Page 93 of His Scarred Duchess
“No,” Adeline said firmly, surprising herself with her own resolve. “We face this together.”
They entered the drawing room to find Lord Brenton pacing like a caged lion, his face thunderous. He whirled around at their entrance, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Edmund.
“So,” he spat, “the prodigal daughter returns, with her Duke in tow. How charming.”
Edmund stepped forward, subtly positioning himself between Adeline and her father.
“Lord Brenton,” he said, his voice cool but polite. “I believe we have much to discuss.”
Lord Brenton’s lip curled. “Do we? I wasn’t aware that family matters were any of your concern, Your Grace.”
“They became my concern the moment I married your daughter,” Edmund replied, a hint of steel entering his voice.
Adeline laid a hand on Edmund’s arm, stepping forward. “Father, we need to talk. About how things have been since my accident.”
Lord Brenton’s gaze shifted to her, his expression hardening. “What is there to discuss? We’ve moved past that unfortunate incident.”
“No, Father, we haven’t,” Adeline replied, her voice steady despite her racing heart. “You’ve treated me as a burden ever since. As if my scars were something to be ashamed of, to hide away.”
Lord Brenton’s face flushed. “I’ve only ever tried to protect you, to shield you from society’s cruelty.”
“By making me feel worthless?” Adeline countered, tears pricking her eyes. “By pushing me aside, focusing all your attention on Isabella’s debut?”
Isabella stepped forward, taking her sister’s hand. “It’s true, Father. You’ve always treated Adeline differently, and it’s not fair.”
Lord Brenton’s anger flared. “Isabella, hold your tongue! This doesn’t concern you. In fact, you’ll be coming home with me this instant. I won’t have Adeline’s rebellious influence corrupting you further.”
“I will do no such thing,” Isabella retorted, chin raised in defiance. “I’m staying with Grandmama. At least she appreciates us for who we are, not how we can advance the family’s standing.”
Lady Gillingham intervened, her usually jovial face stern. “Richard, that’s quite enough. Isabella will remain here, where she is loved unconditionally. And Adeline is a married woman now, with her own household to manage.”
Lord Brenton’s hands clenched at his sides, his body coiled with tension. Edmund stepped forward, his presence a clear warning.
“I suggest you calm yourself, sir,” Edmund said quietly, his eyes locked on the Earl’s.
The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Finally, Lord Brenton seemed to deflate, the fight leaving him.
“Is this truly what you want, Adeline?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “To turn your back on your upbringing, on everything I’ve tried to teach you?”
Adeline shook her head, tears now falling freely. “No, Father. I want you to see me, to love me as I am. Not as a pawn in your social games, not as a burden to be hidden away. As your daughter.”
Lord Brenton’s face crumpled, the reality of his actions finally sinking in. “I…… never meant… I thought I was protecting you. Both of you.”
“Forcing me onto that horse wasn’t protection,” Adeline said softly. “Nor was trying to hide me away after the accident. It only made me feel ashamed, Father. Like I wasn’t worthy of your love anymore.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with years of unspoken pain.
Lord Brenton staggered as if physically struck, collapsing into a nearby chair. “Oh God,” he whispered, his face buried in his hands. “What have I done?”
The room fell silent, everyone stunned by this unexpected display of emotion from the usually stoic Earl. Adeline felt Edmund’s hand on her back, offering silent support as she struggled with her tumultuous feelings.
“I’m sorry,” Lord Brenton choked out, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m so sorry, my dear girl. You’re right. The accident… it was my fault. I was so focused on impressing our guests, on maintaining our image, that I didn’t listen to you. I didn’t protect you when I should have.”
Adeline felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her. After years of denial, of subtle blame and dismissal, to hear her father finally acknowledge his role in her accident was overwhelming.
“Father,” she began, her voice trembling.
“No, please,” he interrupted, rising unsteadily to his feet. “Let me finish. I’ve been a fool, Adeline. A prideful, stubborn fool. I let my fear of scandal, of what others might think, overshadow what truly mattered—the happiness and well-being of my daughters.”
