Chapter 12

William entered the dining room with heavy steps, his countenance betraying the storm raging within him. The twins watched him anxiously while Marina approached him with caution.

"William, what happened?" Marina inquired softly, her gaze searching his troubled expression for answers.

William paused, his jaw clenched tight as he wrestled with the tumult of emotions churning inside him. How could he begin to articulate the turmoil that had gripped his heart, the weight of the decisions he now faced?

"It's nothing," he replied tersely, his voice strained with the effort of masking his inner turmoil. "Just… complications."

Marina studied him intently, her gaze probing, as if searching for the truth hidden beneath his stoic facade. She could sense the tension radiating from him, the unspoken turmoil threatening to consume him whole.

"William," she pressed gently, her tone soft yet insistent. "You can talk to me. Whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone."

A flicker of vulnerability flashed in William's eyes, fleeting yet unmistakable, before he quickly masked it. He appreciated Marina's concern and her unwavering support, but some burdens were meant to be borne alone.

"It's really nothing," he murmured, offering her a faint smile that failed to reach his eyes. "This is something I must deal with on my own."

Marina nodded understandingly, though the worry still lingered in her gaze. She knew better than to press him further, to pry into the depths of his inner turmoil. Instead, she squeezed his hand reassuringly before stepping back, allowing him the space he so clearly needed.

"Where is Mother?" he asked in a muffled voice.

"She… retreated to her chambers," she answered softly.

William's mind raced with a torrent of conflicting emotions as he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors of the manor. The image of Esther walking away from him with barely a word lingered in his mind like a haunting specter. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, the sense of disquiet that had settled over him like a shroud.

"Why does it bother me so?" he muttered to himself, frustration lacing his words as he quickened his pace.

The answer eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, leaving him grasping at shadows.

Why did she look hurt?

His brow furrowed in frustration as he mulled over the events of the evening.

"I'm just following the arrangement we both agreed to. I'm not doing anything wrong."

Yet, despite his attempts to rationalize his actions, a sense of guilt lingered in the recesses of his mind, whispering accusations that he couldn't quite shake. He knew that he had hurt Esther, that his words had cut deeper than he had intended, and the knowledge weighed heavily on him like a burden too heavy to bear.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," William muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper as he rubbed a hand wearily over his face. "I was only… trying to do what's best for both of us."

But even as he spoke the words aloud, a part of him knew that they rang hollow, a feeble attempt to justify his actions.

As he paced the length of the corridor, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the stone walls, William couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong. He had thought that their arrangement was clear, that they both understood the terms of their engagement. So why then did Esther look at him with such sadness in her eyes?

The question lingered in the air like a ghost, haunting him with its unanswered presence.

As he reached his mother's chambers, he hesitated for a moment, steeling himself for the confrontation that lay ahead. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door, his eyes narrowing as he spotted his mother sitting by the window, her posture rigid with tension.

"Mother," William called out, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and exasperation. "We need to talk."

Dorothea looked at him with a frown as she sat near the fireplace. She turned to face him, her expression guarded as she met his gaze. She knew that this conversation was long overdue, that the animosity between them could no longer be ignored.

"What is it, William?" she asked, her tone clipped as she braced herself for whatever her son had to say.

William took a deep breath, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. He knew that this conversation would not be easy, that the words he spoke would carry weight far beyond their mere utterance.

"What were you doing?" he began, his voice faltering slightly. "I need to know why you were being so… difficult with her. What is it that Lady Esther has done that makes you dislike her?"

Dorothea's eyes narrowed at the mention of Esther's name, a flicker of irritation flashing across her features.

"I have my reasons, William," she replied evenly. "Reasons that you may not understand."

William bristled at his mother's cryptic response, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I don't care about your reasons, Mother," he retorted defiantly. "All I care about is that you treat Esther with the respect she deserves. Is that too much to ask?"

"You simply don't understand, William!" she snapped suddenly as her voice grew louder. "Lady Esther's muddled reputation should not be allowed to mix with ours. We have worked tirelessly to uphold our family's standing in Society, and we cannot afford to have it tarnished by association!"

"Is your mind truly that small?!" he yelled back. "Mother, how could your world be so narrow?!"

"They say she's been carrying on with that artist fellow down in the village!" She spat those words like poison-tipped arrows aimed straight at his heart. "If there is no issue of her possibly frequenting the gaming dens and squandering her father's hard-earned fortune on cards and dice, then maybe you should care about her promiscuity!"

"Where did you hear these absurd rumors, Mother? Where is the evidence?" he demanded loudly. "Did I not ask you to stop mentioning them?Esther is nothing like what you describe. She's kind, intelligent, and fiercely independent. She would never stoop to such behavior."

Dorothea's steely gaze remained fixed on her son, her expression unreadable as she continued to assail him with her accusations.

"Perhaps you've been blinded by your infatuation," she retorted, "but the truth remains that everyone in the ton dislikes her very much. Even if her reputation is squeaky clean, her behavior alone is difficult to tolerate. Are you truly prepared to saddle yourself with a wife like that?"

William's fists clenched at his sides as he fought to maintain his composure in the face of his mother's relentless assault.

"I refuse to believe such baseless gossip," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "I will not allow you or anyone else to besmirch her good name. Enough is Enough."

"But, my son, the entire ton talk about you with so much… disrespect," she replied with disdain.

"And I intend to take care of it myself."

"Pardon me?" Dorothea's eyes widened.

"How utterly unfathomable," William grunted as he turned to leave.

"William, I demand you tell me where you're?—"

But he didn't wait for her to finish.

William's footsteps echoed with purpose as he strode through the dimly lit corridors of his ancestral home, his head aching from the argument. He was so irritated that he nearly smashed his head into a wall to make it stop.

Without sparing a backward glance, he muttered a curse under his breath and grabbed his hair, breathing as deeply as he could to compose himself. All he wanted, though, was to ram his fist into a wall and take it down. And if he could, he wanted to take down the grand and pompous homes of everyone in high society who had the audacity to insult Esther.

He wanted to tear the very fabric of high society and cause it to crumble to the ground if it meant that he could be with Esther without people giving him so much grief for it.

"George!" he called out sharply, his voice cutting through the quiet of the grand estate.

The trusty assistant appeared almost instantly, looking almost fearful as he slowly approached the Duke. "Yes, Your Grace?" he inquired quietly.

"I need my carriage prepared at once," William instructed tersely, his tone brooking no argument. "We're paying a visit to Lord Norbury's estate, and I won't tolerate any delays."

"Right away, Your Grace," George replied, his movements swift as he hastened to fulfill William's orders.

William spared a fleeting glance at the door behind which his mother's voice continued to drift. For a moment, he wavered, torn between duty and desire, between familial obligation and the undeniable pull between him and Esther.

But then, with a resolute shake of his head, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully towards the waiting carriage, his mind set on one singular purpose.

He'd given enough of himself to his family, and he'd seen very little appreciation for it.

The carriage rolled steadily down the winding path that led to Lord Norbury's estate, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves punctuating the otherwise tranquil ambiance of the countryside. It was on the ride that some of the anger drained from his body. He could finally breathe properly, but there was an emptiness in his chest that manifested itself into a sickening yearning for a certain someone's embrace.

He wanted Esther so much.

As they approached the imposing gates of the Norbury estate, William's anticipation grew, his thoughts consumed by the urgency of his mission.

Upon his arrival, servants scurried about, their bustling figures a testament to the sudden influx of activity that accompanied his unexpected visit. With practiced efficiency, they tended to their duties, ensuring that every detail was meticulously arranged to meet the esteemed guest's standards.

"Tell your master I am here to visit," William told one of the servants.

Word of the Duke's arrival spread like wildfire throughout the estate, prompting Duncan himself to hasten to the entrance to greet his esteemed guest. It was evident that William had disturbed the man right as he was heading to bed, but the Duke couldn't bring himself to care.

"William?" Duncan called out to him, surprised. "What is it, my friend? You rarely visit, and especially not at this time of night."

William walked up the steps to the residence, his expression grave yet determined. "I apologize for the abruptness of my arrival," he said urgently. "I find myself in need of your counsel on a matter of great importance."

"Of course," Duncan replied, gesturing for William to follow him inside. "Whatever you require, you have but to ask."

With a nod of gratitude, William fell into step with Duncan, his mind racing with the weight of the revelations he was about to make. As they disappeared into the depths of the estate, he braced himself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead, trusting Duncan to understand his state of mind and help him see reason.

As they settled into the privacy of Duncan's study, William wasted no time in broaching the subject.

"Duncan," he began almost helplessly. "I fear there may be something else to the rumors that have been circulating about… about Esther."

Duncan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly recovered.

"Ah, the rumors." He groaned and rubbed his temple. "You're well acquainted with the whims of the ton, my friend. They'll spin tales out of thin air if it suits their fancy."

"But these rumors threaten to tarnish Esther's reputation irreparably," William pressed exasperatedly. "I need to put a stop to them somehow. They're getting out of hand, more so than most rumors ever do."

"Esther is a remarkably strong woman for putting up with them."

"That's why I'm here, Duncan," William declared firmly. "I need your help because I'm starting to think that these rumors are coming from somewhere specific."

Duncan tilted his head in thought. "Why do you think so?"

"It just doesn't make sense any other way," William argued. "For one, where are my sisters and mother getting all this information from? There seems to be something new to hear despite not having taken them to any gatherings in between those rumors."

"Letters?"

"I'm not going to rummage through their private things," he grumbled. "I have half a mind to track down every person involved in any rumor about Esther and threaten them with some form of legal action."

"Well, I have a whole book of secrets for you to use as blackmail," Duncan offered with a sly smile. "Then again, please make sure this is a last resort."

William pondered quietly to make more sense of the circumstances, then something came to him. "What was she like when she first debuted four years ago?"

"She was… splendid, actually," Duncan recalled as he stroked his chin. "Ah, as a matter of fact, she was the Diamond of the Season. I mean, given her beauty that hasn't wavered a bit since, I'm very sure it was her."

William squinted at him in disbelief. "She acts like anything but!"

"I understand, but you didn't see her back then, did you? You weren't here." Duncan insisted. "Everyone wanted her, William. There would be a line of suitors for her at Seymour Manor. Not that I was one of them, just so you know."

William glared at his friend, who coughed uncomfortably.

"All right, maybe I was," Duncan said apologetically. "I didn't get to talk to her during that Season at all, promise. Never mind that, but, good grief, it seems impossible we're talking about the same woman right now."

"You're not one to have a weak memory either," William said suspiciously, "so I'm inclined to take your word for this."

"I wouldn't say she was too different back then in disposition. Sunny, charming, charismatic. She had a way of making the whole room laugh voraciously, and no one chided her for it."

"Then why did she not marry if she was so desirable?"

Duncan gave him a blank look. "Good question. I'm sure there was someone who got close enough."

"Who?" William asked curiously, feeling almost rageful towards the man lucky enough to have been able to make it that far with someone as beautiful and witty as Esther.

Duncan shrugged. "Honestly, William, too many suitors to keep track of. Almost all of my friends married the women who debuted with Esther, except for a few who had to go abroad."

"Well, I guess we have leads." William sighed exasperatedly. "You must still be in touch with your friends and their wives who married in Esther's first Season, yes? Could you maybe gather more insight from them?"

"Worry not, old friend," Duncan replied soothingly. "I have a question, though. You're not one to interfere in someone else's personal affairs. Why are you so worried about Esther?"

William paused, his brow furrowing as he grappled with the weight of Duncan's inquiry. The question pierced through the facade he had erected, forcing him to confront the reason behind his actions.

He hesitated, the weight of his actions heavy on him. He had always prided himself on his indifference to the petty intrigues of Society, yet now he found himself ensnared in a web of rumors and deceit that threatened to unravel everything he held dear.

"It's… complicated," William began, his voice strained with emotion. "I cannot simply stand idly by while Esther's reputation is tarnished unjustly. She… she doesn't deserve this. She just doesn't."

Duncan regarded his friend with a mix of sympathy and understanding.

"Love makes fools of us all, William," he remarked gently, his tone tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "But if defending Esther's honor means confronting the shadows of Society head-on, then so be it."

William stared at his friend, unable to answer him. Because if he did, it would make him confess his feelings out loud, and he wasn't sure he was ready to confront them yet.