She drew a slow breath.
"I have not been truthful with you," she confessed quietly. "There was more to the reason I came to Wexford Manor that night to ask for your hand."
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She lowered her gaze to the license still resting in her hands.
"When Lord Donmere inherited my father's estate," she said softly, "he informed me that I had one month to marry and leave this house. If I failed..." Her voice faltered before she forced herself onward. "He had already arranged for me to enter Westborough Abbey. He sent his own sister there when he could no longer afford to maintain her. The same fate awaited me."
Silence.
She slowly raised her eyes.
The color had drained from Damien's face. His expression hardened with terrifying speed until his green eyes darkened to black. Every trace of restraint vanished beneath a fury she had never before witnessed.
"What?" he demanded.
The single word cracked through the room like thunder.
Before Seraphine could answer, Damien turned sharply, strode to the door, flung it open, and marched out into the corridor with unmistakable purpose.
Seraphine remained rooted to the spot, her heart pounding as she stared after him, dread slowly tightening its grip upon her chest.
The moment he walked out of the room, Damien saw nothing, but red. Fury pounded through his veins with such force that it drowned out every sensible thought. His boots struck the polished floor in long, purposeful strides as he marched through Donmere House, scarcely noticing the startled servants flattening themselves against the walls to avoid his path. Every word Seraphine had spoken echoed through his mind.
One month to marry. An abbey if she failed.
The more he considered it, the less he trusted himself to remain civil.
Why did she not tell me? How has she carried such a burden alone while smiling through dinners, dances, and polite conversation?
He thought back to the night she had arrived at Wexford Manor and proposed marriage with such quiet dignity. He had believed it peculiar and impulsive. Now he understood. She had not been chasing a title. She had been fighting for her freedom. And he, blind fool that he was, had sent her away.
A footman pointed him towards the drawing room without Damien needing to ask. He reached the doorway and stepped inside without knocking. Lord Donmere stood beside the fireplace, leisurely pouring himself a glass of claret as though the world contained not a single care. At the sight of the Duke, the Earl’s face brightened immediately.
"Oh! Your Grace," Lord Donmere exclaimed, setting the decanter aside with an eager smile. He spread his arms in welcome before noticing Damien's expression. The smile faltered. "How... delightful..." His voice dwindled into silence as he instinctively stepped backwards until his shoulders met the wall. "Is... is something the matter?"
"The matter," Damien said, advancing across the room with frightening composure, "is that you threatened Lady Seraphine Fairchild." He stopped only a pace away, towering over the smaller man, his voice dangerously quiet. "If you ever dareinterfere with any of the Fairchild sisters again, I shall personally see to your complete demise. Do you understand me?"
The Earl stared at him, blinking rapidly as color drained from his cheeks. "Y--Your Grace," he stammered, raising both hands defensively, "whatever do you mean? I have always treated Lady Seraphine exceedingly well." His laugh came out thin and nervous. "Why, she has wanted for nothing under my roof."
Damien let out a humorless laugh that chilled the room. "Wanted for nothing?" he repeated, taking another deliberate step forward until the Earl had nowhere left to retreat. "You attempted to send her from her childhood home to live out the remainder of her life within an abbey while you enjoyed the fortune accumulated by her father." His jaw tightened visibly. "Pray explain how that constitutes kindness."
The Earl swallowed hard before hurriedly shaking his head. "It was merely an idle threat," he protested, wringing his hands together. "I never truly intended to send her there. I simply wished to... encourage her to marry. Ladies sometimes require a little motivation, you understand." Even as he spoke, his own words sounded increasingly feeble.
"A little motivation?" Damien repeated, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "Her trunks are outside ready to be sent to the abbey as we speak. You sought to frighten an innocent young lady into surrendering control of her future because it suited your convenience." He folded his arms across his chest,struggling to master the anger threatening to spill over. "There is not a gentleman alive who would call that honorable."
Lord Donmere opened his mouth to defend himself again, but the words died as movement appeared in the doorway. Damien's attention shifted only briefly. Seraphine stood upon the threshold, one hand resting against the frame, her face pale with alarm. She had evidently followed him after realizing exactly where his temper had carried him. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before Damien turned back to Seraphine’s cousin.
"Your Grace," Seraphine said softly, taking a cautious step into the room. She clasped her hands tightly before her, concern written plainly across her features. "Please... there is no need for this." Though her voice remained gentle, Damien recognized the familiar instinct beneath it. Even now she sought to spare another person discomfort rather than see conflict unfold on her behalf.
"There is every need," Damien replied without taking his eyes from the Earl. His voice remained remarkably controlled despite the storm raging inside him. "Lady Seraphine has spent weeks believing she was to lose her home through no fault of her own." He glanced briefly towards her before returning his attention to the trembling man opposite him. "She deserved protection. Instead, she was given fear."
The Earl licked his lips anxiously. "If Lady Seraphine wishes," he blurted out in desperation, "she may remain at Donmere House for as long as she pleases. Forever, if necessary. I shallnever mention the Abbey again." He nodded eagerly, clearly believing he had found a satisfactory solution. "There. The misunderstanding is resolved."
Damien's expression did not soften in the slightest.
"That will not be necessary," he said with quiet certainty. He lifted his chin slightly as his next words filled the room. "Lady Seraphine shall soon become the Duchess of Wexford after she marries me."
