Chapter 7 #2
“I know what you are trying to do,” he said.
“I am telling you that I will not accept it. I will not accept another word of insult toward Emily. Whatever your concerns are, you will bring them to me. Not here. Not like this. Not in front of guests in my home.” His eyes held hers without flinching.
“Emily and her family are here at my invitation, and you will treat them with the respect that they require. That is not a request. You claim to speak in my favor, to protect my interests, but you are doing it with a lack of respect that I find utterly loathsome. You have insulted my guests, you have shamed your own standing, and you have made a mockery of my hospitality.”
Julia’s face flushed a deep, mottled red. “I am trying to save you from a catastrophe! I am the one who brought her to you, but I did not know she was damaged goods —”
“Julia!” The word cracked through the glass room like a pistol shot. Theodore leaned forward, his hands bracing against the table. “You will take back those words and apologize.”
“And if I do not?” Julia asked, crossing her arms. “Will you cast aside the woman who navigated your social survival for years? All for a girl who lies and manipulates?”
Theodore’s knuckles went white against the mahogany of the table. The frustration in his chest was a living thing, a jagged heat that threatened to tear through his polished exterior.
“I am starting to think you were in on this from the beginning,” Julia continued. “You knew. You chose her precisely because she was flawed, didn’t you? You picked the one woman with a stain so deep it would rub in my face. You wanted to punish me for trying to secure your future.”
“I am doing exactly what you demanded. You insisted on a match, and now that I have made my choice, you treat it like a personal Vendetta?”
Julia rose to her feet. “Your Grace —”
“If this is no longer about the marriage, Julia.” He held up a hand.
“If this is actually about your pride, then have the courage to say it. If you have changed your mind about me marrying because you cannot control the woman I choose, then speak now. End the charade. Stop the riddles and the cruelty. If you want this match dissolved because it bruises your ego more than it serves your ambition, tell me.”
Julia’s breath hitched. She looked around the room, her eyes darting from Emily’s frozen form to the bewildered faces of the Pierces. The silence stretched, tight and agonizing, until she finally threw her head back with a sharp, hysterical laugh.
“Fine!” she cried, the word tearing through the humid air.
“You want me to say it? I don't want you to marry her.
I don't want you to marry anyone if this is the result. I would rather see the list burned and the search abandoned than see you tied to a scandal that will reflect on me every time we enter a room. If being your godmother means I must defend a lie of this magnitude, then I am finished with it. I will call off the search. I will put an end to the entire endeavor. I would rather you remain a bachelor than see you married to someone who would embarrass me so thoroughly!”
The air in the conservatory had turned thick and stagnant, the humidity of the greenhouse suddenly feeling like a big brick on Emily’s chest. She sat perfectly still, her hands folded in her lap to hide the fact that she was trembling.
It was as if she had been watching a meticulously choreographed dance only to see the lead performers start tearing at each other's throats.
The silence that followed Julia’s outburst was far worse than the screaming. Julia stood there, her chest heaving, her eyes darting between Theodore and Emily’s parents with a frantic energy.
Theodore did not give her the satisfaction.
He remained focused on a single point on the lace tablecloth, his expression carved from granite.
The irritation in his posture was absolute; the dark line of his brow and the rigid set of his shoulders signaled a patience that had finally snapped.
He reached up, slowly smoothing the front of his coat.
“The meeting is over,” he said. He didn't look up, his gaze remaining fixed on the table as if the very sight of his godmother was now an affront. “Julia, you may leave. Now.”
Julia’s face went from a mottled red to a ghostly, translucent white.
She snatched her silk reticule and shawl from the table, the fabric snagging briefly on a silver spoon with a sharp, metallic ring.
She looked as though she were waiting for someone to beg her to stay, to plead for her favor one last time.
Without a word, she turned and fled.
Theodore took a long, steadying breath, the tension in his jaw slowly receding as he finally turned toward Emily’s parents.
“Lord and Lady Pierce,” he began, his voice regaining its polished calm.
“I offer my sincerest apologies for what has transpired this morning. To be subjected to such baseless insults under my roof is a stain on my hospitality that I find difficult to reconcile. Please, believe me when I say that it was never my intention for your family to be treated with such flagrant disrespect.”
He signaled to the butler waiting near the entrance with a stiff, polite gesture. “Mr. Harrison will show you to your carriage. I believe it is best if we all take some time to let the air clear.”
Theodore turned to Emily, the harsh lines of his face finally softening.
She rose to her feet slowly, her muscles stiff as if the ice that had encased her for the last few minutes was only just beginning to melt.
For a moment, she simply stood there, her hands smoothing the silk of her skirts in a repetitive, grounding motion, waiting for her breathing to find a rhythm that didn't feel like a waltz.
“Emily,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was no longer the icy, command-driven tone he had used with his godmother. It was quiet, grounded, and resonated with genuine remorse that made her skin prickle. “I am deeply sorry. Lady Birks’ attitude was inexcusable.”
Emily looked up at him, her pulse thrumming in her ears.
She found his honesty unsettling. She was always prepared for his mockery, his sharp wit, and silly remarks, but this unfiltered sincerity was a variable she hadn't accounted for.
It made it harder to maintain the wall she had built between them.
Nervousness coiled in her stomach. Julia’s outburst was practically a formal withdrawal of her support. To Emily, the subtext was clear. The courtship was over. Julia had been the architect of this arrangement, and with her gone, the foundation had crumbled.
Emily took a mental note of her standing.
She hadn't secured a definitive match yet, but her association with Theodore had at least turned heads.
There were other suitors now, men who had begun to linger a bit longer at her side during the last few events.
She wasn't entirely without options, but the thought of starting the cycle of performance again felt exhausting.
Theodore reached out, his hand steady as he took hers. Her fingers were shaking, a fine, uncontrollable tremor that she hoped he wouldn't notice. He bowed his head and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
The heat of the gesture sent a jolt through her, and she felt hot all of a sudden. She didn't understand why her heart chose that moment to hammer against her ribs, or why the contact felt like a tether she wasn't ready to break. It felt so grounding.
“We shall speak soon,” he murmured against her skin.
He released her hand, and the sudden absence of his touch caused the freezing feeling to return.
Emily didn't trust her voice to remain steady, so she simply offered a small, stiff nod. She turned toward her parents, who were waiting by the arched exit with the butler, and began the long walk across the stone floor. She felt Theodore’s gaze on her back the entire way, and it followed her until she stepped out of the glass house and into the biting morning air.