Page 141 of The Betrothal

I blinked slowly at him, waiting for her father to defend her, to protect her as the Fairchild heir trashed the room.

But he didn’t.

His concession was purely because he was outmanoeuvred.

The doors to the room swung open, a member of staff helping Sophie back into the room, both of them laden with bags.

She took in the scene before her, stopping when she saw Theodore fuming, the surrounding devastation, and she beamed. “Someone’s feeling a bit emotional.”

“Don’t you start, you I can ruin.” Theodore stormed over to her, glaring down, his height looming.

I turned my back on Edmund and Archibald to level the Fairchild with a glare.

“I promise you this – one more threat, and I’ll take up my father’s mantle just to tear your world apart, thread by thread. If you so much as breathe in Sophie or Isabelle’s direction, I will bury you. Do you understand?”

Theodore sputtered then yelled his fury, turning to his father for support.

“Enough, son,” Archibald relented.

Theodore stormed from the room, lip curling in disgust at the maid who hovered in the doorway, her face falling and a blush colouring her cheeks.

“I expect you have someone who will be working on spinning this story for you both?” I waited for them both to nod. “You can reach me by email.” I placed a card on their desk. “I will be authorising any reports going to the news outlets and all press statements.”

The men glowered at me.

“I needn’t remind you, that my family’s influence was not only brought about by political lineage. Aristocratic blood holds more weight than both your families combined. Do not try to fuck me on this.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

ISABELLE

Oh, holy headache.

My mouth must have been stuffed with cotton wool.

Every breath hurt, my throat was so sore.

“Iz?”

I was dreaming too. Sophie’s voice inside my head.

I remembered the church, and Father. He was so disappointed in me.

There was the priest, and the start of the vows, the drugs had got the better of me. Perhaps that was for the best.

“Come on, Iz, you’re okay.”

That was definitely Sophie, I threw my arm over my face, dulling the light stabbing through my closed lids, then fluttered them open to look at the underside of my wrist.

“Are you thirsty?”

“Yes.” My voice was a rasp.

I felt the surface beside me dip, confirming my suspicions that I was in bed.

That was not good.

A bottle was placed into my hand and I sipped, the cold liquid spilling down my chin and over my neck unpleasantly.