Magnus inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Lead the way, Viscount.”
Dorothy followed closely as the two men moved toward the side door. The heavy wooden door of the vestry closed softly behind them, cocooning them in silence, far from the whispers of the assembled guests. Soft daylight still seeped through the narrow, stained-glass windows, mingling with the flicker of candlelight to cast gentle, dancing shadows on the paneled walls.
Howard ran a hand through his thinning hair, eyes fixed on Magnus with a mixture of frustration and genuine confusion. “Your Grace, I must confess, I remain perplexed by this entire affair. Surely, you are aware that this scandal circulating about my daughter and you is unfounded, untrue and baseless?”
Magnus’s eyes held a steady, almost solemn gaze. “Viscount,” he began quietly, “I am an honorable man. It is precisely because of that honor that I intend to do right by her.”
Howard’s brow furrowed deeper. “But the girl is not ruined. The whispers are false, fabrications. Dorothy is a lady of good character. You have no obligation to do right by her.”
A shadow flickered across Magnus’s face, the faintest tightening at the corners of his mouth. “You speak truth. There wasno scandal. Yet my name has been dragged through the mud alongside hers. This cannot stand.”
He stepped forward, voice firm and resolute. “I will marry her. Perhaps, not out of obligation but to restore my dignity. To end the slander that stains us.”
Howard shook his head. “If I may protest, Your Grace?—”
“Imagine my surprise,” Magnus said, cutting him off, “when, safe within the walls of my home in Northern England, I begin to hear about whispers... rumors about me, about my name, swirling through the streets of London.”
He met Howard’s eyes, unflinching. “Whispers that suggest a scandal that threatens not only her reputation but mine as well.”
Dorothy remained silent throughout the exchange, her breath caught and her heart pounding, every word settling like stones in her chest.
Magnus stepped forward, closing the small distance between him and Howard. “Tell me, Viscount,” he said, his voice low but edged with steel. “What do you suppose I should do in a situation like this? What would a man of my standing and reputation typically do when whispers spread or when people believe I have ruined a lady’s name?”
He paused, letting the question hang heavily in the air. “Do you think I would simply stand by and allow such falsehoods to persist? To let the world believe I am a man without honor?”
His voice dropped to a near growl. “No, Viscount. I would do what must be done.”
Howard’s usual composure faltered just enough to betray his measured demeanor. His fingers brushed restlessly against the edge of the ornate wooden table, as if seeking some anchor amid the mounting storm.
“I... I see where you’re coming from, Your Grace,” he said cautiously. “But you must understand, you are not bound by duty to… to remedy the whisper that drifted through society’s corridors.”
His eyes flickered briefly toward Dorothy, and with a subtle shift in tone, he continued, “Especially when the source of such whispers is… well, the lady herself.”
Dorothy’s breath hitched imperceptibly, though her face remained composed. Her eyes locked with Howard’s for a fleeting moment, an unspoken exchange heavy with shared understanding and silent reprimand. He had just let slip the truth she’d desperately hoped to keep hidden, that she was the one who had started the rumors.
Magnus’s gaze, sharp and unwavering, swung from Howard to Dorothy. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a commanding gravity that demanded attention.
“I would like to speak with Miss Lockhart alone,” he said, his voice steady.
Howard hesitated, the conflict plain in his eyes. To deny a duke was folly, yet leaving them alone in this fraught moment must have stirred his unease. After a long, measured pause, he gave a reluctant nod.
“Very well,” he conceded quietly. “I shall withdraw and leave you to your discourse.”
With a subtle bow, Howard stepped toward the door. As the door closed behind him, the room contracted, and the tension between Dorothy and Magnus seemed to thicken, filling the silence with a thousand unspoken questions.
“I... I’m so sorry, truly, Your Grace. About the rumors, I mean. It wasn’t meant to be malicious,” she began, voice rising slightly with nervousness. “It’s just... I didn’t want to marry Lord Hensley. I thought if I could make him break off the engagement, then maybe I’d be free. But for some reason, he refused! Even after I started the rumor. He still insisted on marrying me. In fact, he said he wanted to speed things up. That’s why we were getting married today instead of a month. Can you believe that? I just wanted out of this madness, and then it all spun out of control, and the rumors… well, I never imagined they’d reach you.”
She paused, breathless, eyes searching his face for any sign of understanding.
Magnus’s expression remained unreadable. “Miss Lockhart, I did not come here for explanations.”
Dorothy blinked, confusion flickering across her features. “You… you didn’t?”
“I did not,” he repeated. “I want something from you.”
Dorothy blinked, confusion mingling with disbelief. “Something? You mean like a favor?”
Magnus stepped closer, the faint scent of Sandalwood and cold air following him, instantly charging the space between them. “I need a bride of convenience.”
