Chapter 19
Dominic sat at the head of the dining table, the half-folded newssheets between his fingers.
He kept his eyes trained on the columns of print, feigning interest in the articles, but not a single word registered.
His thoughts were tangled, jumbled—a hopeless knot of what-ifs and maybes—and at the center of them all was her.
Across from him, Dorothea read the newssheets. Her expression was focused, serene, and utterly lovely. He couldn’t stop stealing glances. And with each glance came a gut-deep ache.
He had nearly told her that he loved her the night before.
But the words had stayed trapped in his throat. Because the truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt. Not yet. Or perhaps he was simply afraid to face it.
Now that she was an heiress in her own right, she no longer needed him. She could purchase her own household, hire her own guards, and surround herself with potential suitors. The mere thought made his blood run hot.
What was he to do? Was it selfish to want her now, to keep her close—not because she needed him, but because he needed her?
From behind her pages, Dorothea glanced up. “Is everything all right?”
“It is,” he said quickly. “Why do you ask?”
She gave him a knowing smile. “Because you are reading the newssheets upside down.”
He blinked, looked down and cursed under his breath. “So I am,” he muttered, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. “I’m afraid I was… woolgathering.”
“Anything you wish to share?”
No, his mind screamed. But she deserved more than silence.
Reaching for his fork, he replied, “I was thinking about the state of my estate.” It was a lie, but a polite one. And it seemed to suffice.
Before she could respond, Wright entered the room, his expression unusually grim. “I beg your pardon, my lord, but Mr. Haverleigh is in the entry hall. He insists upon speaking with you.”
Dominic set down his fork with deliberate care. “Inform Mr. Haverleigh I will join him shortly, once I’ve finished my breakfast.”
Wright nodded and withdrew, but a moment later, a voice like a thunderclap echoed down the corridor. “Warwicke!”
Dorothea flinched at the sound. “He sounds furious. Do you think he’s discovered the missing wills?”
“I do,” Dominic said, standing and adjusting his coat. “But it matters not. I have no intention of returning them.”
She rose beside him. “May I come with you?”
Dominic hesitated, studying her face. “Are you certain? You don’t need to confront him.”
Her eyes sharpened. “He lied to me. Tried to cheat me out of what is rightfully mine. I want to be there when he realizes he’s lost.”
He offered his hand. “Then we shall face him together.”
“Together. I rather like the sound of that,” she said, accepting his arm.
As he led her towards the entry hall, a silent sigh lodged in his chest. He had hoped Haverleigh wouldn’t discover the missing documents until after the new will had been filed in probate court. But it hardly mattered now. He would face whatever storm came—for her.
In the entryway, Haverleigh stopped pacing and turned at the sound of their steps. His face was mottled with rage.
“How dare you!” he roared.
Dominic remained calm. “It would be best if we discussed this in private. Follow me to my study.”
Without waiting for a response, he guided Dorothea into the study, and Haverleigh’s heavy, angry footsteps trailed after them.
Once inside, Dominic turned. “Now then—what has you so distraught?”
“You know perfectly well what you’ve done!” Haverleigh growled.
Dominic feigned confusion. “I’m afraid I don’t. Would you care to enlighten me?”
“You stole the wills.”
“Wills?” Dominic echoed, his tone light. “Plural? So there were two?”
Haverleigh stepped forward until he stood just inches away. “Don’t play games with me, Warwicke. I know you have them, and I want them back.”
Dominic’s gaze didn’t flicker. “You’re right. I have them. And no, you may not have them back.”
“So you admit it.”
“I do. And I intend to file the most recent will with the probate court because your father wanted Dorothea to inherit, and I mean to honor that.”
Haverleigh’s face darkened. “Absolutely not! My father was not of sound mind when he wrote that second will.”
In a clear, steady voice, Dorothea replied, “I disagree.”
Haverleigh’s gaze snapped to her. “Of course you do. You’re eager to steal what’s mine.”
Dorothea stood her ground, lifting her chin. “You are the one who stole from me. Father saw the kind of man you were—are—and he did what he could to protect me.”
“You know nothing.”
“But I do,” she replied. “I know that you dismissed my grief, denied me choices, and treated me like a burden. Father knew it, too.”
Haverleigh’s nostrils flared. He began pacing like a caged animal. “What if I released your dowry to you? Is that enough for you?”
“No, because I will no longer accept scraps from a table that should have been mine,” Dorothea replied.
“You would ruin me,” he spat. “Leave me with nothing? Have you no decency?”
“Father left you ten thousand pounds,” she reminded him, her voice calm. “That is hardly nothing.”
Haverleigh’s face twisted. “It’s not enough.”
Dorothea stepped forward, and Dominic instinctively tensed, his hand twitching at his side as if ready to intercept her. But she didn’t back down.
“I’m sorry, Matthew,” she said. “But I won’t apologize for receiving what was meant for me.”
With no warning, Haverleigh’s hand lashed out, striking her hard across the cheek.
“Dorothea!” Dominic roared, surging forward, but he stopped short when Dorothea, without hesitation, drove the heel of her palm into her brother’s throat.
Haverleigh staggered back, choking, eyes wide with disbelief as he clutched his neck.
Dorothea stood tall, eyes blazing. “I am not afraid of you anymore,” she said firmly. “You have treated me like something beneath you for far too long. It ends here.”
Dominic stepped beside her. And for the first time, he didn’t see a woman who needed defending. He saw a woman who could defend herself.
After a long, seething moment, Haverleigh drew in a breath through flared nostrils and finally met his sister’s gaze. His voice came out low, bitter. “I should have known. Your husband put you up to this, didn’t he? He wants your inheritance for himself.”
Dorothea didn’t so much as blink. “What I do with my money is none of your concern.”
Haverleigh gave a sharp tug on the ends of his waistcoat. “You’re not clever enough to manage such a large fortune. You’d squander it all on lace and sentiment and foolish causes. Is that what Father would’ve wanted? His hard-earned estate wasted away on your whims?”
Dorothea held his gaze. “You may go now,” she said. “You are no longer welcome in our home.”
Haverleigh gave a bitter laugh, his lip curling. “Your home? Is that what you’re calling it now? Tell me—did your husband suddenly drop his bid for annulment after discovering how much you were worth?”
“That,” Dorothea replied, “is none of your concern, either.”
Haverleigh’s smirk twisted into something uglier. “So typical. He didn’t want you when you were nothing. He was ready to cast you aside like rubbish. And now? Now he wants you? And you believe that? Who’s deceiving whom?”
Dominic had stood still long enough. His fists clenched at his sides, jaw taut with restraint—but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Dorothea placed a hand on his chest, stilling him.
As much as he wanted to hit Haverleigh, to enact revenge for the man daring to touch his wife, he knew that this was Dorothea’s fight.
“Dominic is more honorable than you could ever dream of being,” she declared.
Haverleigh didn’t press her further. Instead, he turned towards the door with the slow, seething dignity of a man who knew he had lost.
“You’ll rue the day you treated me this way,” he snarled.
“I don’t think we will,” she responded.
Haverleigh said nothing more. The sound of his booted footsteps echoed as he stormed down the corridor and out of the townhouse, the main door slamming behind him.
Dominic moved to stand in front of Dorothea as he gently lifted his hand to her cheek, now reddened where her brother had struck her. “Are you all right?”
“I am.”
His mouth twitched into a crooked smile. “Remind me never to anger you.”
Dorothea gave a small laugh. “Thank you,” she simply said.
“For what?”
“For giving me the strength to stand up to my brother,” she replied. “I’ve waited so long to do that.”
Dominic cupped her cheek more fully now, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “That strength has always been inside you,” he said. “You didn’t need me to find it. You only needed to believe it was there.”
Her eyes shimmered with unshed emotion. “I’ve wanted to hit him for years. And when I finally did… it felt right. Like it was earned.”
Dominic chuckled under his breath. “It most certainly was, but I wish I had the opportunity to hit him as well. Heaven knows I wanted to.”
“I know, and if Matthew ever comes around again, I give you leave to,” she said. “Now, shall we return to finish our breakfast?”
No.
Everything in him screamed against the suggestion.
He didn’t want breakfast. He didn’t want the dull clatter of cutlery or the polite hum of conversation.
He wanted this—the quiet intimacy of the study, the warmth of her cheek beneath his palm, the way her eyes looked up at him like he was someone worthy of trust… of love.
He wanted to stay here and never let her go. He wanted to kiss her. To tell her that she was everything he had never dared to hope for—that somehow, despite all the darkness in him, she had become the light he gravitated towards.
But he wasn’t strong enough.
Not yet.
Not with everything still unraveling inside him.
So, instead of leaning in, instead of speaking the words that trembled on the tip of his tongue, Dominic did the one thing that felt safe.
He let his hand fall from her cheek.