Lord Lempster’s face darkened. “Margaret, that’s enough!” he barked, though his voice carried a hint of exasperation.
“It is of no concern, Lord Lempster.” Raph turned towards Lady Margaret and Lady Camelia. “What is mine… will always be fiercely protected.”
And LadyCamelia will be mine.
“We need to speak privately, Lord Lempster,” Raph continued before anyone could ask more questions. “There are matters to discuss.”
The Earl hesitated, his eyes darting between Raph and Lady Camelia, but eventually, he nodded. “Very well, Your Grace. This way.”
As they moved towards the door, Raph caught Lady Camelia’s glare, her eyes burning with questions she wouldn’t voice in front of her family.
She’ll demand answers about my decision to marry her soon enough.
He braced himself for the inevitable confrontation about Lord Montague and the friction between them. The bad blood was plain to see, yet that was a bridge to cross another day.
For now, the notion of marrying Lady Camelia simply to thwart that vile man’s schemes had presented itself as an opportunity, and he had seized it without hesitation.
Curse him.
As he exited the study, Lady Margaret’s voice followed them, sharp and teasing.
“Don’t think you’re escaping my questions, Camelia! I’ll have the full tale out of you soon!”
CHAPTER 7
Camelia’s heart pounded as the door closed behind the Duke and her father, leaving her with Margaret and Iris in the study. The daylight streamed through the windows, exposing Margaret’s pale, curious face and Iris’s wide, fearful eyes.
Me? The Duchess of Brentmere?
Her chest tightened with a swirl of emotions. The memory of the alley would linger like a shadow, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would lead to marriage.
“Camelia.” She felt Iris’s soft hand on her wrist.
“Yes, Iris?”
Since her husband’s passing, Iris had spoken little, but when she did, her words carried a rare warmth and wisdom that lingered.Camelia met her gaze, finding in her sister’s eyes a kindness and understanding that steadied her heart.
“Was this your plan, to protect our family?”
Margaret gasped.
How could I answer her?
Camelia found herself having to choose between the unvarnished truth and a carefully crafted lie. She was no liar by nature, yet the truth threatened to wound them. She hesitated, torn between honesty and mercy.
“Camelia, wherewereyou this morning?” Margaret asked with an arched eyebrow. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her as she looked up at Camelia with troubled eyes. “And how in heaven’s name did you convince aduketo marry you? And to save us?”
Iris leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, tell us, Sister! One morning, you’re gone, and now you’re back with a duke claiming you as his Duchess? How did it happen?”
“And not just any duke, Iris! But the Duke of Brentmere. The dreamiest, most mysterious of them all!” Margaret giggled, while Iris laughed quietly and tried to hush her.
I can’t tell them the truth—not about Whitechapel, not about the alley.
Camelia’s throat went dry. Her mind raced for a response that wouldn’t betray her shame, but she felt her skin heat at the thought of the Duke and the scandalous time they had spent together.
Why would he choose me out of all the eligible ladies in the ton?
“Sisters, there is no secret. I… I merely took a walk in the garden, as I said. I needed to clear my mind and consider how to settle Father’s debts. The Duke happened to be passing through the gardens to see Father, though we spoke very little at that time. I informed His Grace that it was not a good day, and I assumed he left. That was when I hurried inside to inform Papa and found Lord Montague already there. Had I known of the proposal beforehand, I would have told you both without hesitation.”
