Evan scoffed. “Because not every woman has the privilege of living as you do, Lady Emma, free to meddle in others’ affairs and pretend to know best. Ophelia knew her family would never approve, nor would theton. They would see her as reckless, even shameful. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”
Emma hesitated, and he saw her steel-like confidence waver. She glanced away, a flicker of doubt shadowing her face. Her voice, however, held a defiant edge when she finally spoke. “No,Ophelia would never do this, she’d never keep such secrets.” As she spoke, the uncertainty in her voice was evident but it only made expression harden. He leaned in, lowering his voice to a near growl.
“Enough of your high-handed interference. Here’s what’s about to happen, Lady Emma. I can do nothing for Ophelia now, and whatever your actions will do to your connection with her is not my business. But I can still ensure my own plans come to pass. Since you have destroyed my engagement with Ophelia, you will take her place. I need a wife so thetonwill stop bothering me. So you will marry me instead to make up for what you’ve destroyed.”
The words landed like stones in the silence between them. Emma’s eyes went wide, her expression shifting from disbelief to shock. Her hand went to her mouth, and she shook her head slightly, as if the notion itself were absurd.
“Marry you?” she echoed, incredulous. “You cannot be serious.”
“Oh, I am quite serious,” he replied coolly. “I need a bride, and thanks to you, I no longer have one. Given that you took it upon yourself to ruin my prospects, it’s only fitting that you should replace them. You will be my wife, so that I can move in society without every woman setting her cap on me. You wanted to save Ophelia from a loveless marriage? You have. And now, you can take her place.”
Emma’s face flushed, her defiance momentarily crumbling. She stepped back, her hands clenched at her sides. “You must bemad,” she said, her voice a mixture of disbelief and outrage. “I have no intention of marrying you.”
Evan met her gaze, unyielding. “And I had no intention of being humiliated before theton, of losing everything I’ve worked for because of some rumor-spreading busybody. But here we are. You were so quick to condemn me, Lady Emma. Let’s see if you’re prepared to take responsibility for your actions.”
She inhaled sharply, her expression shifting from shock to anger. “I don’t owe you anything, Your Grace. You were the one who lied to Ophelia’s family, who plotted some soulless union. Don’t pretend you’re the victim here.”
“Oh, make no mistake—I know exactly what I am,” he replied, his voice icy. “But I also know that I’ve been left in a rather unfortunate situation, thanks to you. And unless you want the whole of London whispering that Lady Emma Hayward was the cause of an unwed duke’s scandal, you’ll accept my terms.”
Emma’s face paled. “Are you threatening me?”
“It’s not a threat,” he said smoothly. “Sooner or later, everyone will come to find out that you ruined this wedding. And you know how thetonis. They will talk. Would you rather have a reputation as a spiteful busybody or would you rather have me paint it as a love story gone wrong? We can say you loved me with such passion, you could not stop yourself. You will be looked down upon either way but the romantic hearts of the noble women might take pity on you.”
“You must be in your cups,” she said but he shook his head.
“I wish I were. It’s a chance to salvage some dignity from this wreckage you created. No one will have to know that you disrupted a marriage; instead, they’ll see us as star crossed lovers finally united.”
She looked at him with mounting horror, a faint tremor in her shoulders as she took a step back. “I can’t believe this… I can’t believe you would actually try to force me into such a ridiculous plan.”
Evan lifted a brow, his voice steady and controlled. “Ridiculous, perhaps. But effective. You’ve left me without a choice, and you don’t seem to have many options either. Unless you want this to become the scandal of the season?”
Emma’s mouth opened, but words failed her. She looked as though she were trapped, her face torn between indignation and resignation, her fists clenching in a mix of frustration and helplessness. He could see the wheels turning in her mind, the realization settling over her that she might not be able to easily escape the very situation she’d created.
Evan crossed his arms, watching her carefully. “Consider it, Lady Emma. Or I’ll be more than happy to inform your family—and theton—of your involvement in all of this. After all, we wouldn’t want them to think you lack a sense of responsibility, would we?”
For a long moment, she simply stood there, her face flushed with anger and uncertainty. But at last, she straightened, her eyes meeting his with a glimmer of defiance.
“If you think you can manipulate me into this, Your Grace, you’re gravely mistaken,” she said, her voice trembling with resolve. “I may have made a mistake, but I am no one’s pawn.”
Evan felt his own resolve harden. “Then I suppose we’ll see who the victor is in this little game, won’t we?”
Emma shot him a look filled with barely concealed contempt before turning on her heel and striding away. But Evan knew he had planted a seed of doubt, one that would inevitably grow.
Watching her walk away, he felt a strange mix of triumph and bitterness. He hadn’t wanted this—any of it. But now that she had forced his hand, he was determined to see it through to the end, no matter what the cost.
CHAPTER 7
Emma
Emma burst through the doors at the front of St. George’s, her heart pounding as she caught sight of Ophelia crossing the crowded churchyard to an alcove at the far end. Could the Duke have spoken the truth? Had her friend been aware of all of this and she’d ruined her chance? It was true Ophelia loved a commoner but would she have gone so far? No…the Duke had to lie.
He was a scoundrel. A blackmage. He was horrible and haughty and high in the instep. No…. This was all lies, she was sure of it.
Emma’s legs felt heavy as she hurried after her friend, desperate to make things right.
“Ophelia!” Emma called, breathless as she reached the alcove, where Ophelia stood with her family. When Ophelia spottedher, she turned away from her parents and stormed towards the door, her expression cold.
“Why did you do this, Emma? My father said you wrote the letter? Why?” Ophelia’s voice hitched as she spoke, yet it cut through Emma like a knife. Emma took a shaky breath, trying to summon the words to explain.