Page 29 of The Duke’s Hidden Runaway Bride

“What do you propose?”

Adrian placed the unfinished letter to Soane beside his mother’s.

“I have money, influence, and a man in London who can make discreet inquiries. You understand the business and the articles in ways I do not. Together, we may be able to find a weakness.”

“Together,” she repeated.

“If you want my help.”

Chapter Thirteen

Ophelia read the marked passage twice, the paper gone soft and cold under her fingers.

Crispin tells me he is resolved to have the law on them now, not the breach of promise merely but the father’s business as well. His lawyers assure him there are claims arising from the articles and from representations made concerning the settlement. He means to recover every farthing the match has cost him.

Adrian had given her the letter and let her read the worst for herself, without softening it or deciding beforehand how much she could bear. He had simply placed the truth in her hands and waited.

The fire crackled in the small library, its heat barely reaching the window seat where she sat. Outside, water dripped steadily from the eaves. The snowbound world Ophelia had built around herself came down as quietly as the thaw.

She had told herself that her flight hurt no one but herself. Lady Elise had accepted the risk knowingly. Her father remained safe in London, occupied with his ships and ledgers, untouched by the loneliness and falsehood of Ophelia’s concealment.

She had been wrong.

Markham could not reach her, so he would strike Josiah instead. He would drag her father’s name through the courts and shake the confidence his business depended upon, undoing in a season what her father had built in a lifetime.

Her hiding could not protect him.

Adrian waited.

The choice was hers. He meant it.

It was the most frightening gift anyone had ever given her.

“Send the inquiry,” she said. “But Mr. Soane must buy nothing yet. Questions alone may alert Markham if they are clumsily asked.”

“He will be discreet.”

“We must also see the signed articles. We do not know what Markham can claim, only what he says his lawyers have told him.”

“Then we begin with inquiries and the articles.”

“No.” She folded the Marchioness’s letter along its existing creases. “I begin with my father.”

Adrian looked a question at her.

“I am going back to London.”

He said nothing, leaving her room to finish.

“I will face Papa and tell Markham myself that I will not marry him. I will not have the matter ended over my head, even for my benefit. If there is a price to refusing him, I will know it and choose whether to pay.”

She heard the strength enter her own voice.

“I will not allow Papa to be ruined while I hide in the snow. And I will not be a thing decided any longer. If I am to be ruined, I will choose it for myself.”

Adrian held her gaze.

“Then I will go with you, if you will have me.”