Page 69 of The Marriage Wager

But, no. They must have been afraid that Dominic would persist in his plans, that he might go after her and persuade her to return. If they managed to disgrace her in front of everyone, if they convinced Dominic that she was a thief and made her name a subject of scandal, then he would not insist on marrying her. They were making certain that she could not marry Dominic. And they did not care that they would ruin her in the process.

“Young lady!” Lady Rutherford exclaimed. “Mind your tongue. How dare you speak to me like that?” She whipped around to face Lord and Lady Selbrooke. “It is clear that you have nursed a viper to your bosom, my lord. Lady Sybil, my heart goes out to you. What a blow this must be. And to think that she was almost your daughter-in-law.”

Lady Selbrooke did not respond but looked aside. At least she, Constance thought, had the grace to look embarrassed at this charade.

An awkward silence fell on the group. Constance could feel the eyes of everyone upon her. She realized, with a sinking sense of horror, that she had no idea how she could disprove any of what Lord Selbrooke had just said. No one knew of their conversation last evening in his study. And who would think that an earl would do such a thing? Who would believe her over him?

“I did not take that necklace,” Constance said, angry at the tremor of emotion in her voice. “You offered it to me, and I told you no. But I left Redfields anyway. You had what you wanted. How could you do this?”

She glanced over at Dominic. He was not looking at her; his eyes were on his father. Her heart twisted within her chest. If Dominic believed his father, she thought that her heart would break.

There was a long silence. Then Dominic spoke at last, his voice like ice. “Is this the best that you could do, Father?”

Lord Selbrooke turned an affronted gaze on his son. “What do you mean? This young woman stole one of our family heirlooms! Surely you cannot be so foolish, so naive, as to believe her protestations.”

“No, I am not foolish,” Dominic replied levelly, his blue eyes like shards of glass. “Nor, I imagine, is anyone else in this room foolish enough to believe this tale you have concocted.”

The Earl’s eyes widened. “How dare you—”

“No, Father, how dare you?” Dominic exploded, stepping forward to face his father, putting himself squarely between the Earl and Constance. “How can you have allowed your greed and animosity to lead you to so strip yourself of all honor?”

His father swelled up in indignation and opened his mouth to speak, but Dominic stepped forward and took the necklace in his hand, which seemed to rob the Earl of speech. Lord Selbrooke sputtered and reached in vain to take it back, but Dominic had already turned and was holding it out in his hand toward the guests on the staircase, who were all gazing at the scene with avid interest.

“I realize that none of you know Miss Woodley as I do. You may not be certain, as I am, that the idea of stealing anything from anyone would never occur to her. You probably have no idea that she tried to argue me out of marrying her because she felt that I had a duty to my family to marry otherwise.”

He paused for a moment. Everyone’s eyes were glued to him. Constance’s heart warmed within her chest at his words, and tears pressed against her eyelids. Nothing else mattered, she thought, as long as Dominic believed in her.

“However,” he went on, “even if you do not know Miss Woodley, I would think that anyone with a modicum of sense—anyone, at least, whose mind was not clouded by his own greed—would quickly see that if a woman were about to marry the future Earl of Selbrooke and would then have not only this necklace but every other jewel in the Redfields safe to wear, as well as having this house and these lands and a rather large amount of gold and silver plates at her disposal, she would not throw it all away to steal one paltry necklace.”

The silence after his words was deafening. Finally, in a faint voice, the Earl offered, “The necklace would have given her immediate gain. She would not have to wait. She would not have to marry.”

“No. Nor would she if she had taken your offer last night,” Dominic answered smoothly. “Would she? And if, by chance, she had actually chosen to steal a necklace that she could have had only for agreeing not to marry me, it seems odd that she would not have hidden it but would instead put it her trunk in plain sight of anyone who might open it. Without even a lock upon it. Not a particularly clever action for someone who must have been smart enough to break into the safe in your study. But then, I suppose her carelessness in not concealing what she stole is no odder than the idea that, having broken into the safe, she stole none of the other jewelry there, even the earrings and bracelet that match this necklace. Speaking of peculiarities, I find it strangest of all that you happened to discover that this necklace was missing at dawn this morning. And that you had such an unerring instinct as to where it was hidden. You did not have to bring in any other bags or search her reticule. You just looked in this trunk.”

Dominic’s gaze remained on his father for a long moment. Then he turned to Constance. “My father offered you this very necklace last night in return for your refusing to marry me?”

“Yes.”

He looked back at his father. “I would not have thought you would stoop so low as to try to bribe a young girl with this.”

He turned his hand to the side, letting the necklace slide from his grasp. It hit the floor, and as everyone watched in astonishment, Dominic raised his foot and smashed down on the necklace with his heel.

“Paste,” he said flatly, lifting his foot to reveal the mess of powder and chain.

Gasps echoed all over the room, and everyone’s eyes were now focused on the Earl. All color had drained from his face. His mouth opened and closed spasmodically.

“I think we all realize what happened here,” Dominic went on, his voice deadly quiet as he turned to his father. “But I think it would be best if you admitted to everyone what you tried to do to Miss Woodley, so that there will be absolutely no threat of any stain to her good name.”

His father set his jaw rebelliously, and Constance was certain that he was about to refuse.

Dominic quirked one eyebrow and said without inflection, “Or perhaps you would like me to continue to enlighten everyone about our family.”

The Earl’s nostrils flared. Bright spots of color flamed in his cheeks, and hatred shot from his eyes. But he turned toward the crowd gathered on the staircase and said, “Leighton is correct. I was wrong to accuse Miss Woodley.” He swallowed, casting a last venomous look in Constance’s direction. “She did not steal the necklace. The servant put it in there when he carried down the trunk.”

Lady Rutherford’s servant, Constance thought, and turned to look at the woman. Lady Rutherford was staring at the Earl, her face livid.

“Selbrooke, you are a fool,” she said flatly. She whirled around, saying, “Come, Muriel.”

She strode out of the house, followed by her daughter.