“I need space to work,” he asked brusquely. “I must attend to him.”
Dorothy and the staff reluctantly stepped back, leaving the room heavy with tension. Outside, Dorothy began to pace the hall as she nervously played with her fingers.
Could the stress of the whispers and the mounting pressure have been too much for him? Was this sudden collapse a cruel consequence of the turmoil she had unwittingly unleashed?
The idea sent a fresh wave of guilt crashing through her. If only she could undo what had been done. A part of her was completely certain that the rumor she started must have weighed heavily on her father, perhaps even pushed him to this brink.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps reached her ears. Turning sharply, Dorothy saw Lucy approaching, her face flushed from the brisk walk. The letter Dorothy had sent earlier must have summoned her quickly.
“Dorothy! What is the matter?” Lucy asked, concern knitting her brow as she took in the tension in Dorothy’s posture.
Her voice trembling, Dorothy replied, “It’s Papa. He slumped in his chair this morning. The physician is with him now, inside the study.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Good heavens. Is he..?”
Dorothy shook her head, unable to find the words. The fear clinging to her was raw and unyielding.
“We must be strong for him,” Lucy said gently, reaching out to grasp Dorothy’s hand. “Try not to worry. He’ll be fine. Trust that he’ll be fine.”
Dorothy gave a faint, grateful nod, but her thoughts remained tangled in guilt and uncertainty as the shadows of the day stretched long. “Lucy...” she began. “... this morning, Papa discovered the rumor we started, the one about the Duke of Walford.” She looked up, searching Lucy’s face. “I had to confess that I was the one who spread it all, just to avoid marrying Lord Hensley. I told him I didn’t want that match, that he was cold and… old.”
Lucy’s eyes softened. “Was he upset?” she asked.
“He was,” Dorothy continued, her voice faltering. “Do you think that it’s because he learned the truth? That it agitated him so much… that it caused his health to deteriorate like this?”
She paused and massaged her nape. “I cannot help but wonder if my actions did this to him.”
Lucy squeezed her hand gently. “We cannot know for certain, but the stress might have taken its toll. However, your papa has been ill for a while now, Dorothy. You cannot be certain that the revelation caused this. Now, we must be strong for him. Don’t think about such things.”
Dorothy nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Lord Hensley has even heard the rumors, Lucy. But, against all reason, he’s determined to go forward with the wedding. We wed next week.”
Lucy blinked, disbelief clear in her eyes. “Next week? The wedding wasn’t supposed to be this month.”
Dorothy nodded. “He thought it best to expedite it. That way, we could be wed before the rumor does any permanent damage.”
“He heard the rumors and still insists on marrying you? That’s… unexpected.”
Dorothy nodded. “Exactly. It completely upends everything we planned. The whole point was that he would walk away.”
Lucy shook her head. “Perhaps he’s stubborn or truly fond of you. But this changes things. Our little scheme isn’t working as we hoped.”
Dorothy’s gaze dropped to the floor beneath her feet. “I don’t know what to do now. If the wedding goes ahead, then all this was for nothing. I was scared that our plan fell through; that’s why I sent for you. I thought we could come up with another plan together to stop the wedding. But now...”
Lucy exhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced toward the closed study door. “Now that your Papa is unwell… Are you rethinking all of this because of what happened to him?”
Dorothy’s gaze dropped to the floor beneath their feet, the hardwood planks seeming to echo the heaviness settling in her chest. The muffled sounds from within the study only made the moment feel more surreal. She felt a mixture of sadness and guilt pressing down on her heart.
“Yes,” she said slowly, struggling to keep her voice steady. “I’m rethinking everything.” Her hands clenched at her sides, knuckles paling with tension. “If the rumor we started, the scandal I helped spread, was enough to worsen his health so suddenly… then I’m not sure I have the right to continue.”
A nervous tremor shook her, and she pressed her fingers against the seam of her gown as if to hold herself together. The thought of causing her father more pain was unbearable, yet the stubborn part of her, the part that had once clung to defiance, still flickered beneath the surface.
“Maybe it’s better if I simply do what Papa wishes. Set aside my own hopes for his sake and for the sake of peace.”
She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing heavier. What once had seemed a simple escape now felt like a chain tightening around her spirit.
Lucy’s gaze softened, but her voice was gentle, probing. “What of you, Dorothy? What about your own peace and happiness in all this?”
The question struck a chord deep within her. Dorothy’s breath hitched as she fought the conflicting emotions swirling inside. She longed for freedom, for a life not dictated by others’ expectations. But the one thing that was holding her back was the image of her father, frail and exhausted.
