Page 75 of A Duke to Steal Her
Lady Ridgewell’s gaze focused on Emily’s face, and her expression immediately hardened. “You.”
Emily blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re bringing shame to us,” Lady Ridgewell said, her voice weak but full of accusation. “Always so dramatic. First a runaway bride, then a scandal… You managed to clean it up with yourmarriage to the duke. But now this? Why did you have to ruin it? Why can’t you just be good, like your sisters?”
The words hit Emily like a physical blow. She felt the blood drain from her face as her mother’s disappointment washed over her like ice water.
“Mama, that’s not fair,” Juliana said firmly. “Emily didn’t cause tonight’s incident.”
“She never does, does she?” Lady Ridgewell’s voice rose with hysteria. “It just follows her everywhere she goes. Scandal after scandal?—”
“That’s enough,” Ava interrupted sharply. “Emily is not responsible for Lord Swanwood’s vile behavior or her husband’s response to it.”
“You’re defending her again,” Lady Ridgewell began to hyperventilate, her breath coming in short gasps. “All of you, taking her side when she’s destroying our family’s reputation.”
“Stop,” Emily said quietly, rising from her chair. “Please, just… stop.”
She moved toward the door, her composure cracking with each step.
“Emily, wait,” Juliana called after her.
“It’s best if I leave,” Emily said without turning around. “I’m only making things worse.”
“Don’t you dare listen to her,” Juliana said firmly. “She’s overwrought and saying things she doesn’t mean.”
But Emily was already walking away, each of her mother’s words echoing in her mind like accusations.
Everything she touched turned to ruin. Every attempt at propriety ended in scandal.
She found Ambrose in the drawing room with the other gentlemen, his knuckles still raw from the evening’s violence.
“We should go,” she said quietly.
He looked up immediately, sensing her distress. “Of course.”
The carriage ride home passed in strained silence. Emily stared out the window, her mother’s words playing on repeat in her mind.
When they reached the townhouse, she went straight to her chambers, hoping Ambrose would respect her need for solitude.
I should have known better than to think any good would come out of this entire fiasco.
“Emily.” His voice came from the doorway moments after she’d dismissed Martha.
“You’ve done enough,” she said without turning around, fighting to keep her voice level. “Thank you for the spectacle.”
“He insulted you.”
“And you made it infinitely worse!” The words exploded from her as she spun to face him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The whispers will follow me for months. The looks, the speculation?—”
“I couldn’t let him speak about you that way.”
“So instead, you gave them something even better to talk about! The violent duke and his scandalous wife—what a perfect pair we make!”
Ambrose’s face went white. “Emily, I?—”
But she was already pushing past him, fleeing the room and his stricken expression.
She made it to the garden before the tears started. The first drops of rain began to fall as she collapsed onto a stone bench,and she welcomed the cold water on her skin. At least this way, no one would see her crying.
