She glanced down at her dress, horrified by Dolan’s attempt to stop her. Clara lost her footing and stumbled, sliding across the ground. She rolled over and sat up. Dolan stalked towards her. Even with the limited light from the moon, Clara could see the fury on his face. This was to be her husband, a monster playing the part of a gentleman.
A door was thrown open, the sound echoing through the garden. She looked up to the terrace where people were now standing stock-still, except for one person; Sam was running down the pathway at a full sprint. He ran right past her and dove into Dolan, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
~
Sam stood and grabbed Dolan by the front of his jacket. He swung his fist, contacting Dolan’s jaw. Dolan sputtered and pushed him off. Sam stumbled back but stayed on his feet.
“You are lucky I don’t kill you,” Sam snarled.
Dolan regained his composure and stood. “This is none of your concern, Kincaide.”
Sam helped Clara up. His heart pounded furiously. She was a mess. The shoulder of her gown was pulled down, and the skirt covered with stains. He did his best to control his rage but was barely able to.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Clara nodded, dazed.
A sizable crowd had started to form on the terrace, watching them curiously. Damn it, he thought. He’d been reckless, charging out of the ballroom without any discretion when he spotted Clara frantically making her way to the terrace. A smaller group broke away from the crowd on the terrace, making their way down the path. Sam ran his fingers through his hair, overwhelmed.
Dolan moved towards Clara, and Sam blocked his path. “Touch her and I will kill you,” he said quietly.
Dolan glared at him with contempt, but he stayed firmly where he was. “Again, this is not your concern. This is between me and my betrothed.”
There was no way in hell he would ever allow Clara to marry this man. He stepped towards him but was stopped when Clara touched his arm.
“Please don’t,” Clara said.
“Clara, what have you done?” the Duchess of Claremore demanded, stopping before them with her husband, Jack, Mercy, and Lady Hasting.
Clara had taken the time to arrange her dress and compose herself. She appeared much more put together than when Sam first saw her. “Nothing, Mother. It’s just a misunderstanding.”
Jack looked at Sam questioningly, but Sam held his tongue, wanting to protect Clara’s reputation.
“Quite right. Mr. Kincaide, it appears, is jealous. Perhaps the scandal sheets were correct about a connection between Lady Clara and Mr. Kincaide. Luckily, Lady Clara has come to realize that I’m the better man.”
Dolan was twisting what just occurred in his favor to look like the wounded party. Sam glanced at Lady Hasting who glared at him in disapproval.
Dolan smoothed his jacket and held his arm out to Clara. “We have a betrothal to announce.”
Clara hesitated. Desperation clawed at Sam. He couldn’t let this happen. He studied Clara. She mattered too damn much to him to let her go through with marrying Dolan. Sam shockingly said,
“Marry me.”
The Duchess of Claremore gasped. “Most certainly not, Mr. Kincaide. Our daughter is promised to the Marquess of Dolan.”
Sam looked at Jack and Mercy. They stared back at him, clearly confused by his proposal. If the situation weren’t so serious, he’d laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. He’d sworn he would never marry, and now here he was proposing to a lady, and not any lady, but the Ice Princess of the ton. Lady Hasting watched intently, and Sam had no doubt she would be sharing every detail as soon as she could. Sam didn’t care as long as he could protect Clara from Dolan.
Dolan took Clara’s arm and tucked it in his. Sam’s thoughts flashed back to Abigail, so badly beaten by Clara’s soon-to-be betrothed. “Clara, don’t do this,” Sam pleaded.
Her eyes darted back and forth between him and her parents. Sam's throat filled with bile at the thought of Dolan marrying her and touching her. Clara stepped away from Dolan.
“Clara, marry me. Choose me,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with desperation.
She looked at him questioningly. Dolan laughed. “Kincaide, I am not sure what you think you are doing but I suggest you leave.”
Jack studied Sam for a moment before turning back to Clara. “It’s your choice, Lady Clara.”
“There is no choice, Clara. You will be disowned,” her mother snapped.
