Page 65 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

George shook his head. He was unable to see a path forward.

CHAPTER 27

The moment the carriage pulled up before the Dewsbury residence, Emma’s father yanked her out with a force that made her stumble. His face was a mask of fury, eyes blazing as he hissed and cursed.

“I have always known that you would end up a disgrace to the family!” he spat, his eyes filled with venom. “And here we are, are we not?” He laughed, pulling her through the doorway and into the drawing room where he pushed her onto the sofa.

Emma clutched the arm of the sofa to right herself as her mother entered the room but lingered by the door. Her mind flickered back to the grin her father wore earlier, the ecstasy that had lit up his face. The transformation was so abrupt, for he seemed a madman now. She had witnessed his tantrums many times, but never had she seen him thusly. Her mother’s horrified expression only confirmed that Caroline too had never encountered such wrath.

“You have shamed my good name in society with your incompetence and indiscipline, and I will have you amend it all,” her father roared, pushing a brass statuette from a console. It fell onto the carpeted floor with a thud.

Caroline took a step toward him, her voice trembling when she spoke. “Tristan?—”

“You shall be silent, madam!” he hissed, his eyes narrowing. “It is your incompetence which runs in her blood, shaming us all.”

Caroline shrank back, her face paling. Emma wondered if it was his hurtful words or the sheer force of his anger that caused such a reaction. Perhaps both, she concluded, feeling a pang of pity for her mother despite her own troubles.

“Now listen here, girl,” he said, turning his furious gaze back to Emma. She shrunk into the sofa, trembling, her heart pounding. His eyes bored into hers, demanding compliance. “You will make this right, or you will face consequences you cannot even begin to fathom.”

Emma’s throat tightened, fear clawing at her insides. She wanted to cry out, to defend herself, but the words stuck in her throat. All she could do was nod, her mind racing to find a way out of the nightmare that had engulfed her life.

He father came to stand in front of her. When he smiled, a chill ran through her.Who are you?“I will make you do my bidding, one way or another,” he declared, his voice chillingly calm. “That rake of a knight you have been chasing will be nowhere in sightcome morning. Men like him do not make things right. You are ruined now, and no one else will have you but the Marquess. Thank goodness he is just as desperate as we are.”

Something in his tone struck Emma, a painful realization dawning upon her. Had her father orchestrated this entire incident to force her into marrying Neads? The truth twisted her guts.

“You did this!” Emma’s fear was immediately replaced by fury and a sense of betrayal. She shot to her feet, he hands clenching at her sides. “You brought that crowd to the gardens knowing George and I were still there.”

A wicked smile spread across his face, confirming her worst fears. “Thank heavens you did not inherit your mother’s dim wit as well,” he said, his words a cruel mockery.

Emma’s gaze flickered to Caroline, standing passively by, her eyes dull and lifeless. The sight of her mother’s resignation only fueled Emma’s desperation.

“Wasn’t signing me away to the Marquess enough? Have I not agreed to marry him?” Emma’s voice rose.

“Whether I am guilty of your accusations or not, it does not matter.” Her father shrugged dismissively. “What is done is done. And that Duke will never marry you,” he added smugly.

Emma’s heart sank at his words, for they held an undeniable truth. George would never marry her. The weight of this realization pressed down on her, but she refused to succumb to despair. Anger blazed too brightly within her to allow room for misery, though she knew it would follow in due course.

“You have no heart,” Emma said, breathless.

“I have a brain, something you and your mother evidently lack,” he retorted.

“I have been foolish to think you were anything but a despicable man,” Emma spat, her voice shaking with rage.

Her father’s eyes narrowed, and before she could react, he rose to strike her. Emma shut her eyes, bracing herself for the blow, but it never came. In a blur of movement, her mother had stepped between them, taking the force of his strike.

Caroline staggered, her face contorted in pain, but she did not fall. Emma’s breath caught in her throat as she watched her mother, the usually passive woman now a shield against her father’s wrath. The sight filled her with a mix of horror and a fierce, protective love.

“How dare you!” Emma stood taller. “How dare you raise your hand against her!”

Her father’s face was still twisted with darkness, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he looked at Caroline. “Shebrought this upon herself,” he muttered, though the conviction in his voice wavered.

Caroline straightened and brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “No, Tristan,” she said softly but firmly. “You will not hurt her. Not again.”

Emma’s heart ached at the sight of her mother’s quiet strength, and she felt a surge of resolve. She would not be cowed by her father’s cruelty. She took her mother’s hand and stood beside her.

“You will not control my life any longer,” she said. “You may be my sire, but I will find my own way, with or without your approval.”

Her father’s face darkened further, but words seemed to escape him. Emma stood her ground, a defiant statue amidst the storm of his wrath. Another strike came, and again, Caroline intercepted it. She cried out in pain, clutching her shoulder where the blow had landed, sparing Emma's face from its intended mark.

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