Page 35 of The Duke's Unclaimed Bride
“Would you?—”
“That’s her,” Edith heard someone say.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw two young men. Both wore fine clothes. Wealthy men, to be sure, but without a title. They were standing close, but made no effort to be quiet.
“Is that the child His Grace has taken on?” the second man asked.
“Indeed. I can’t imagine that she will amount to much as a foundling,” the first man replied.
“Oh, I imagine it’s far worse.”
“Worse?”
“Didn’t you hear? She comes from a workhouse. I’m sure she’s slow.”
“Perhaps she was born out of wedlock,” the second man snickered.
Both men grinned, as if that were a witty joke.
Edith looked down at Tilly, praying she had not heard. Alas, the girl had. She’d stopped bouncing and was clinging to the toy store’s windowsill.
“Your Grace,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. “Am I… Am I unworthy?”
Edith’s heart broke, and a protective rage surged without warning in the same breath.
“No, Tilly. Ignore them,” she said softly, before turning toward the men.
She inhaled deeply to brace herself, but Laurence had also overheard the men and stormed over to confront them.
“I see you both still enjoy gossiping like old hens,” he chided, approaching them.
“Y-Your Grace!” both men sputtered, bowing to him.
“I did not think you two would be so bold as to openly voice your concerns,” Laurence said.
“It-It’s not that,” the first man stuttered.
“Good. Then, may I suggest you both act as if Miss Tilly is my child by blood? Her background is irrelevant now. She is the child of a duke, which is all you should concern yourself with,” Laurence said, glaring at them until they cowered.
“Y-Yes!” the first man stuttered.
“We are ever so sorry, Your Grace!” the second man added.
Laurence nodded, then dismissively waved his hand. “You both would do well to get out of my sight.”
Both men scrambled away, not daring to look back.
Edith smiled as she watched. “You are making quite the habit of defending us,” she said as he approached them.
“It seems I am.”
“You’re rather good at it,” she added.
“At defending you?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.
“No.” Edith shook her head. “At scaring others into submission.”
“It’s a gift,” he said dryly, rolling his eyes.
