Page 55 of Healing the Duke's Desires
His worst nightmares blended with reality, and with each passing second, the chaos around him seemed to intensify. The figures closed in, their features still shrouded in obscurity, and Alexander’s efforts to maintain a grip on Emily became a desperate battle against the forces of the night.
With a final burst of strength, Alexander managed to pull himself and Emily out of the water, their soaked forms gasping for breath on the shore of the lake. As he regained his bearings and took in the gravity of the situation, his vision slowly cleared.
To his astonishment, he realized that a group of people from the same ball they had all attended had gathered at the edge of the lake, having come outside to witness the chaotic scene. Their elegant attire and concerned expressions stood in stark contrast to the surreal events that had just unfolded. The onlookers, a mix of shocked and curious faces, whispered among themselves, their voices a hushed murmur in the night.
As Alexander and Emily lay there, catching their breath and shivering from the cold water, he couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of vulnerability. Their private turmoil had been exposed to the prying eyes of those around them, and the ballroom masks of society had been replaced by raw, unguarded emotions.
“Emily!?” A gasp of shock emerged from the crowd, the voice blended with muffled whispers and the wind eerily blowing through the nearby branches.
Both Alexander and Emily aimed their gazes in the direction where the voice had come from. As the shock and disorientation began to recede, Alexander’s vision gradually sharpened, allowing him to make out the faces in the crowd that had gathered by the lake. The moonlight cast a pallid glow upon the onlookers, revealing familiar countenances from the ball.
The faces became more distinct, revealing a mosaic of emotions—pity, curiosity, and judgment, all intermingling in the moonlit tableau. Alexander’s heart raced with a profound mixture of discomfort and resignation.
It was impossible that they had all innocently found themselves there at the same time. Who could have brought them there? And why? Alexander was furious, but he couldn’t have said anything. At that moment, a man elbowed his way through the crowd, coming to the very forefront. Alexander recognized him immediately.
It was the marquess. And following him, another familiar face emerged from the crowd—Emily’s father, eyes wide with shock.
With a haughty tone, the marquess turned to the man. “Sir, it is evident that your daughter is nothing more than a wanton, bringing disgrace upon your family and this gathering.”
Alexander stood up, shielding Emily’s body with his own as if these words were poisonous arrows, and he was glad to offer himself in her place. But no matter what he did, he could not hide her disgraced form from the rest of the prying eyes, which refused to look away even for a single moment.
Emily’s father, taken aback by the marquess’ harsh accusation, attempted to defend his daughter’s honor, rushing to her side and wrapping his arms around her. “My lord, there must be an explanation for what has occurred. It was an unfortunate accident, nothing more.”
But the marquess remained unmoved, his judgmental gaze unwavering. “Accident or not, the reputation of your family is tarnished,” he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain. “Such behavior cannot be tolerated within our esteemed circle.”
Alexander noticed a few murmurs and nods of approval. He wanted to shout to them all that they were vultures, feeding off of the misery and embarrassment of others, but he felt as if someone had stolen his voice. Before he could regain his composure, the marquess continued.
“Furthermore, it makes me wonder what your daughter was doing outside, with this man, without a chaperone!” the marquess exclaimed, pointing the finger of blame at none other than Alexander. “Such behavior is a grave breach of propriety and decorum!”
“My lord, I assure you that…” Lord Ashfordshire tried to clarify, but he was not allowed to do so.
The marquess’ disdain was evident in the way he handled himself, turning this into a theatrical show everyone seemed to have been invited to attend. “This is not merely an affront to decency, but a direct insult to myself and my standing in society!”
With a few more murmurs were heard, the crowd fell silent, their eyes widening in shock as the marquess continued. His words rang with finality. “I cannot possibly condone such behavior or excuse it in any way. It is with great regret that I must announce the immediate cancellation of my wedding to Miss Emily.”
Emily’s father and Emily herself stood stunned, their faces pale with disbelief. The marquess’ decision sent shockwaves through the gathering, and the atmosphere grew tense with uncertainty and apprehension. Alexander’s eyes widened in shock. Emily was supposed to marry the marquess?
“My lord, I implore you to think about this carefully. You have to see that there is more to this than meets the eye,” Lord Ashfordshire tried to appeal to the marquess, but it was all in vain.
“My mind is made up.” The marquess gave Emily one last, disgusted look. “I have seen enough.”
With his pronouncement echoing in the night air, the marquess turned on his heel and left the gathering, his departure a dramatic and indignant exit. The stunned guests stood in shocked silence, their eyes following the marquess’ retreating figure.
Whispers and hushed conversations erupted among the attendees as the gravity of the situation sunk in. Emily’s father, crestfallen and humiliated, could only watch as the marquess’ departure marked the culmination of a nightmarish turn of events. The man, holding his daughter close to himself for warmth, started to make his way toward the crowd.
“My lord, let me help you,” Alexander started, but Lord Ashfordshire’s eyes cut him off as though with a sword.
“You have done enough,” the man replied. “Let us pass.”
There was nothing Alexander could do. This was all his fault. He never should have allowed things to go this far, and now, Emily’s reputation was ruined. A path began to form through the crowd, like a somber corridor, a funeral procession of onlookers, parting to allow them passage. The atmosphere was heavy with judgment and humiliation, tinged with a realization that things would never be the same for either of them.
Emily, her face marked by a mixture of sadness and resignation, and her father, burdened by the weight of the night’s events, walked through the aisle of parted guests. The moonlight cast a pallid glow upon them, their silhouettes framed by the figures of those who watched in silence.
Alexander stood there, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He longed to reach out and stop them, to offer some form of consolation or comfort, but he knew all too well that this entire chain of events was a result of his actions and the choices he had made. This was exactly what he had been afraid of. His worst nightmares had unraveled right before his eyes.
His love for Emily had been the catalyst for the night’s tumultuous turn, and the consequences had reverberated through the gathering. It was a bitter realization that he couldn’t ignore—the pain and humiliation that Emily and her family now faced were inextricably linked to his own indecision and inner turmoil.
Had he not rejected her, she would not have run off here, to the lake. And as a result, none of this would have happened. They would have remained concealed in the gazebo, having returned to the festivities at some point. But fate wanted it other way. This way.
