Page 45 of Three Scandals for the Wild Duke

These words did little to assuage the fear that clutched at her heart, the dreadful realization of what her integrity had cost her. In doing the right thing, she had likely sealed her fate, consigning herself to a life with the Marquess of Neads. Worse still, she faced the imminent wrath of her parents, whose ambitions she had thwarted.

Unable to hold back any longer, Emma surrendered in the fight against her tears. They burned a slow, torturous path down her. It was all too much—the weight of her decisions, the crushing expectations, and now, the looming consequences. She covered her face with her hands and clenched her teeth in an effort to control the sobs that shook her.

Emma thought she heard her bedchamber door opening, but she was uncertain, but the gasp that followed told her she had company. Nevertheless, she did not look up.

“Goodness dear, what happened?” Antoinetta exclaimed, rushing toward her. Before Emma could respond, she felt Antoinetta’s arms wrap gently but firmly around her shoulders, guiding her toward the bed.

“There, there,” Antoinetta cooed softly as she sat Emma down and perched next to her. Emma allowed herself tocry Antoinetta’s arms, for it was the only place she had at this moment where she would neither be misunderstood nor scorned.

“Tell me what happened,” Antoinetta encouraged after giving Emma a moment to gather herself.

“I could not do it, Antoinetta. I could not bring myself to betray the Earl in that manner,” Emma confessed, her voice muffled against Antoinetta’s dress.

“I knew you wouldn’t do it. You’re not that sort of person, Emma,” Antoinetta replied.

Her maid’s unwavering faith in her character, despite her current ordeal, brought a small comfort to Emma. Even if the world were against her, she had Antoinetta’s understanding.

“I was in the garden to be alone, and I came upon the Earl,” Emma continued, her voice faltering as she recalled the appalled look George had given her when he’d intervened between her and Alexander. The memory stung, for it seemed to confirm her worst fears about how he perceived her. She couldn’t fathom why his disapproval hurt more acutely than the prospect of failing to secure a decent match. “He saw me with the Earl, and he is disappointed now.”

“Who?” Antoinetta inquired, her brows furrowed.

“The Duke. Seymore,” Emma clarified, realizing she had not given Antoinetta the entire story.

“Oh, I see.” Her features softened, followed by a flicker of something else—perhaps surprise or understanding—that Emma could not quite decipher. “I suppose you hold his opinions in such high regard.” She mumbled, more to herself than to Emma.

“What?” Emma asked, not sure she had heard her correctly.

“I am sure the Duke will understand it was merely a walk in the gardens.”

Emma shook her head, feeling her face tighten. “It was not only that,” she whispered. “I could not trap the Earl, but I tripped over my dress and fell. The Earl fell with me, Antoinetta, and the Duke saw us.”

Antoinetta’s face colored. “Oh, my dear Emma.”

“No one else saw us, but the disdain on the Duke’s face told me that I have lost his good opinion, and what little dignity I came into this house party with,” she lamented, her voice thick and her throat tight.

“Never say that. Never allow your parents that triumph over you, Emma,” Antoinetta squeezed her hand. “You told me that you couldn’t betray a good friend as they’d ordered you to. You did the right thing, and I never saw a more admirable act of selflesssacrifice,” she added, her words holding warmth meant fortify Emma’s crumbling spirits.

“It certainly is a sacrifice, for now I am doomed to a life with the Marquess of Neads,” Emma said resignedly, her voice hollow, as if the very thought leeched the life from her.

“There is hope yet,” Antoinetta insisted gently.

Emma simply could not see the light. Not anymore. Not when the house party was concluding. She would return to Town and face the fate that awaited her there. A future as the Marchioness of Neads.

“You have been too quiet since we left the castle,” Alexander finally broke their long silence as they walked through the farm fields stretching out from the manor grounds.

George’s mind was indeed a storm. He’d harbored suspicions, yet the thought that Emma could actually devise such a plan was something he had refused to accept. He had believed in her, believed she was above such deceit. Alas, it seemed his faith had been misplaced. The realization brought not just disappointment but a deep, stinging hurt. If he was being completely honest with himself, it was more than just the act itself—it was the betrayal of the trust he had placed in her.

“What were you thinking, Alexander, allowing yourself to be alone with Emma in that maze?” George demanded, his words carrying the harshness of the emotions raging within him as he battled to keep his anger at bay.

“Surely you do not think I did that on purpose?” Alexander asked, his eyes widening with incredulity. “She found me in the maze when she got lost, George.”

Alexander’s defense seemed to contain the truth of the unexpected meeting, yet for George, the pieces did not fit neatly. “Lost. Yes,” George replied with a heavy dose of sarcasm, and his friend’s face registered a look akin to having been struck.

“What are you implying?” Alexander bristled, his stance tensing as if bracing for a blow.

“That you should have left the maze the instant she ventured toward you. It is fortunate that I saw you with her in there and not someone else,” George responded, his voice strained. All of this was exhausting him, and he was sure he would not be in this state if it was not Emma he’d seen with Alexander.

“Ah, so it ismyfault now that I didn’t foresee her tripping?” Alexander retorted with equal impatience. “Or that I would try to help her and unfortunately fall along with her?” His voice rose very slightly.

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