Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Emma

T he following morning, Emma came down to breakfast, feeling as though the walls were closing in on her. She’d barely slept, her mind an unrelenting storm of regret and anger. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ophelia’s devastated expression and the Duke’s menacing gaze, his threats echoing in her mind. The absurdity of it all—that her attempt to protect a friend had led to nothing but disaster—gnawed at her. Now, in the cold light of day, she wasn’t sure what to think, let alone say.

Alexander was seated at the table, his gaze fixed on her the moment she entered. She could feel the weight of his disapproval. He said nothing at first, merely watching as she took her seat across from him.

She looked down at her plate, avoiding his stare. But finally, unable to hold back, he broke the silence.

“Emma,” he began, his tone carefully measured, “were you involved in… all of this?”

Emma stiffened, her hands clenching in her lap. “That is of no concern to you,” she replied, her voice tight.

“On the contrary,” he said, his expression unwavering. “It is of concern—to me and, I daresay, to the entire family.” He reached beside him, holding up the London Morning Post . Without a word, he handed her the paper.

Her heart skipped as she saw the bold headline:

“Wedding of the Season Halted by Scandalous Interruption! Mysterious Letter-Writer Exposes Duke of W.’s True Intentions”

Emma’s eyes scanned the article quickly, her stomach sinking as she read:

In a shocking turn of events at St. George’s, what should have been a grand union between His Grace, the Duke of W., and Lady O. was abruptly halted as new revelations about the Duke’s intentions came to light. Though the source of these revelations remains officially unknown, whispers circulate that the information came from a young lady of nobility—a certain spirited daughter of an Earl recently disgraced. The same lady, rumored to be well-acquainted with scandal herself, is said to have acted out of ‘heroic interference’ in what she deemed an unsuitable match.

Emma’s fingers gripped the paper tightly, her face growing hot with fury. “This… this is his doing. The Duke is behind this!” She practically spat the words, her voice trembling with indignation.

Alexander watched her warily. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that yes, I was the one who wrote the letter but nobody knows except for the Braverman’s and the Duke. He confronted me yesterday after the wedding was cancelled and he … he ….and she… Ophelia…. I was wrong. They wanted this. Both of them. They had an arrangement and I runed it but I didn’t know…” She dropped into her seat. “He says I must marry him instead.”

Alexander’s expression softened, but he waited for her to continue, letting her storm around the room as the floodgates opened. "Pray, do tell me what happened from the beginning,” Alexander said gently.

She took a deep breath and slowly told him everything that had happened, ending with the Duke’s demand.

Alexander’s eyes widened. “He… demanded marriage?”

“Yes!” she cried, her voice catching. “He insisted that I would pay for my interference. And now, with my name in the papers, it’s clear what he’s trying to do—he’s trying to make me look so scandalous that I’ll have no other option but to accept.”

Alexander shook his head, running a hand over his face in exasperation. “Emma, do you have any idea of the extent of this situation? The impact of these rumors? You’ve… inadvertently walked into something that could haunt you for years.”

Emma felt a hot tear slip down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away, standing taller. “I was only trying to help Ophelia. I thought—she wrote me letters, telling me how much she despised society, how she couldn’t imagine a life married to a man she didn’t love. I thought…” She shook her head. “I thought I was rescuing her.”

Alexander watched her with sympathy, his voice gentler as he spoke. “Emma, intentions matter, but so do consequences. Perhaps, in the future, you’ll remember that not everyone’s life is as it seems.”

Her face crumpled, her pulse pounding with a mix of hurt and indignation. “How can you speak to me as though I were some naive child who didn’t think this through?” she said sharply. “You think this is some lesson I need to learn?”

Alexander’s calm expression didn’t waver, though he looked at her with unmistakable sadness. “If you take it that way, perhaps it is. But one thing I can promise you, Emma—you will not be marrying the Duke. Not if I have any say in it.”

“Thank you,” Emma said and looked away, unable to bear his gaze. Her throat tightened as she struggled to regain control over her emotions. She couldn’t stand here and listen to lectures—not now, not after everything she’d already endured.

Without a word, she turned and left the room, her steps quickening as she headed toward the door. She knew precisely where she needed to be: at the orphanage, with people who needed her, people she could help without interference or scrutiny.