Helena swiped her hand at the newspaper. “If these articles continue, not even his heart will prevent him from walking away.”
Miss Webb glanced at her sister, who replied with a subtle shake of her head.
They were concerned about the same outcome.
Handing the newspaper to Helena, Miss Fernsby-Webb said, “The rumor had to originate from someone at the Duke of Lennox’s house last evening.”
Silence fell across the table. Miss Webb fiddled with her teacup.
“None of the men would do this,” she said after several minutes.
Helena and Miss Fernsby-Webb nodded their agreement.
“Nor I,” Helena added, then shrugged when both ladies stared open-mouthed at her. “We should be thorough.”
“I wouldn’t,” Miss Webb said, a tiny grin appearing on her face. “It’s detrimental to my scheme to marry off Merritt’s friends if I ruin the connection between you and the Duke of Lennox.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Miss Fernsby-Webb said, stabbing her fork into a sausage. “That leaves Miss Venning, her cousin, and Mrs. and Miss Wilmington.”
Miss Webb threw down her napkin and rose. “Before we accuse any of those ladies of besmirching Miss Rowe’s name, we need to speak with Miss Sinclair to learn why our story wasn’t printed.”
Helena and Miss Fernsby-Webb, who dropped her fork with a clatter, shoved their chairs back and stood as well. Single file, they marched to the door, each lady grabbing her pelisse. Then, Miss Webb yanked open the front door and screamed.
“Your Grace,” she said, curtseying as she moved aside. “I apologize for yelling. I didn’t expect to find you standing on the doorstep.”
“Forgiven.” The Duke of Lennox’s warm timbre rolled into the foyer, causing Helena’s stomach to flip over. “However, it is I who should apologize for arriving so early without any warning.”
He held up a beleaguered newspaper, crushing the page in his fist. “I’d like a few moments to speak with Miss Rowe.”
“Of course.” Miss Fernsby-Webb sidled around Helena and pushed her sister toward the open door. “We have an errand to attend. I trust Miss Rowe will be safe in your company.”
Before the Duke of Lennox could respond, she shoved Miss Webb through the doorway and slammed the door.
“I-I’m sorry,” Helena whispered, backing away from him. “I didn’t know that story would be printed.”
A wounded expression flashed through his eyes. “I’ve never given you cause to fear me, Miss Rowe.”
“I know,” she replied, forcing herself to stop moving.
“But someone has,” he said, sliding his greatcoat from his shoulders.
She flinched, then nodded.
“May I take your coat?” He held out his hand.
“Why have you come?” she asked, her voice wobbling as she peeled off her pelisse.
“This situation is entirely my fault,” he said, draping their coats on the rack. “I should have been more careful.”
“You didn’t know someone would report the incident,” Helena replied, taking a tiny step toward him.
“I should have.” He grimaced and hung his head. “However, I’m going to remedy this situation with four words.”
Winding her fingers together, she forced herself to take a second step forward. “Which are?”
He dropped to his knees. “Will you marry me?”
She froze, the feeling draining from her legs. “You can’t marry me.”
