Page 23 of The Duke’s Unwilling Bride

And then, it all comes back down to me. This was all my fault. If I never insisted on her coming out on her birthday, we might have been able to wait until the rest of my cadre appeared. If I never allowed her out of my sight to begin with, we wouldn't be in this mess. If I never answered the plea Middlehey put before me concerning this harridan, then I would have never come to help in the first place.

My generosity will be the end of me. I just never knew it would get me into this much trouble, especially when I had nothing to do with the situation in the first place. I study the men before me, looking at their beady eyes as they prepare to lap up this story. Could one of them be her attacker? Or is all of this just pure fiction used to rope me into a marriage I never wanted?

Either way, I’m beyond fucked.

CHAPTER 11

Teresa

My heart stutters in my chest as all eyes turn to me. The only thing keeping me from bolting is the matronly mother to my left. How is it possible for someone as kind and generous as she to have birthed such a reprehensible snake?

Even now, he glares at me, staring me down as if I somehow caused this. But I didn’t. Blazes, I even fought as best as I could. Most of the other women here would have collapsed into hysterics, but I kept my wits about me. What more could I have done?

“Cousin?” Asher steps forward, his tone softer, far more cajoling than I’ve ever heard it before. What could he possibly be up to? It wouldn’t matter to him whom I was married to as long as my reputation wasn’t ruined. “Are you well?”

Closing my eyes, I merely mean to gather my thoughts, but a soft growl scatters them. It’s Foxford. I’d know that disgruntled sound anywhere. Then he must think I’m just stalling, no doubt playing to the crowd, hoping to place them in my favor. But if what the dowager said was correct, the matter is done, and I am now set to be his bride.

I look him dead in the eyes and hold my head high as I can. “I am well. Especially now that I am clothed.” Turning to Foxford, I find I’m unable to resist the verbal barb forming on my tongue. “I owe a debt of gratitude to your mother for her kindness.”

“You owe more than that,” he rebuttals, acid lacing his tone.

It’s clear he’s angry, but then, so am I. I never wanted to marry in the first place, and now I’m forced to be with a man who despises me.

“Not that it will do either of us any good, but did you happen to see the man who assaulted you?” Foxford presses, his eyes boring into my soul.

“No. I have stated as such.”

Asher chimes in, his tone taking on a lighthearted lilt, one I’ve never heard from him before. “So then, you cannot say with certainty whom it was that assaulted you?”

“Of course not.”

“Does that mean you cannot deny it could have been Foxford?”

“See now,” the duke barks out, leaping up. “I am not on trial here. It’s done. I’ve already said I’d marry the girl. What more do you want? For me to bang on the Archbishop’s door tonight?”

“No, no. On the morrow is soon enough. I’m just wanting everything to be certain. Not that it matters.”

In my heart, I know what this is all about. My cousin wants a show. Why? I cannot fathom. What does he stand to gain by vilifying this man and throwing me into the mix?

“If it doesn’t matter,” I bite out through clenched teeth, “then be done with this. It wasn’t him. I know it wasn’t.” But in the eyes of the Ton, in the eyes of propriety, it’s as if it were.

“If you did not see the perpetrator, then how can you be so sure?” His smile is sour, and my cousin carries himself as puffed up as a cat with a bird in its mouth.

I’m unable to answer him without incriminating myself. How can I say it’s because his body felt different, or the scent was wrong? These are intimacies I shouldn’t know. And so I stand there, mute as tears gather in my eyes, hot and angry.

The duke stands next to me, his fingers clenched into fists. “You will desist with this line of inquiry. On the morrow, I will ride to Canterbury and take care of this mess. Good thing I already had the modiste make her wedding gown.”

Motioning to the room, Foxford addresses the rest of the people. “We are to prepare for a wedding. Please continue in your frivolity while we discuss these matters further. You will all, of course, be invited since you have borne witness to this…” he pauses as if searching for a more palatable term… “agreement.”

As if the red sea parts before us, they all file out, titterings and whispers following in their wake. In my eighteen years, I have never been party to any sort of scandal, and now, I’m embroiled in it with no way out. None of this is fair. How was I not able to speak up for myself, to defend my own honor against the face of such speculation?

Normally, I have no problem speaking out in my defense, but here in front of all these people, my tongue fails me. Everything seems so hopeless, so bleak, so… final. What could I even say that I haven’t already tried?

Foxford turns to me, his lips set into a thin line. “Do what you will for the wedding. I will leave it with you and my mother. But do not think to go wild with the funds. There will be a strict budget that will be adhered to or else.”

“Oh, Joseph-”

“No, mother. That is all I will say on the subject. Goodnight.” With a stiff bow, he leaves the room until it is just Lady Foxford, Asher, and me.