The Duke’s expression hardened at once.
“Brave?” he repeated, a sharp edge creeping into his voice now. “She has left her family to face the consequences of her actions. She has humiliated herself, her household, and the man she was meant to marry. That is not bravery.”
“It is,” Emmeline said quietly, “if she believed she would lose herself otherwise.”
Something darkened in his eyes then, and he leaned forward slightly without seeming to realize it, closing the distance between them. Emmeline felt his breath press against her skin, and it sent shivers down her spine.
“And what of those she leaves behind?” he asked. “Do they not matter?”
“They do,” Emmeline said, her voice steady even as her pulse quickened and she became acutely aware of how close he was now, of the faint scent of something clean and sharp that seemed to cling to him. “But so does she.”
The Duke’s gaze dropped to her mouth before returning to her eyes. The movement was so quick she might have imagined it, if not for the way it sent a sudden, unexpected heat through her.
“She made a choice,” he said.
“As did you,” Emmeline replied, before she could stop herself. “To decide what is best for her.”
The Duke went very still.
“I did not decide,” he said, and there was something sharper beneath the control now. “I ensured stability. Security. A future that would not depend on whims.”
“On love,” Emmeline blurted before she could stop herself.
Silence fell. There was something deeper in the Duke’s eyes now that made her breath feel suddenly too shallow.
“Love,” he repeated, the word sounding almost foreign in his mouth. “Is that what you would have chosen?”
Emmeline’s throat tightened. She should not answer. She should remain composed, distant, untouched. And yet, sitting across from him, with his eyes fixed on hers, she felt her last careful defense give way.
“Yes,” she said softly.
The Duke did not look away.
“And you would throw everything else aside for it?” he asked, his face drawing even closer to hers.
“No,” Emmeline said, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But I would want it to be there.”
Something flickered in his expression then, gone almost as soon as it appeared.
The carriage slowed.
The shift was subtle, but Emmeline snapped back to herself, just enough to let reality press back in. The Duke leaned back again, the distance returning between them, though the air did not settle as easily as it should have.
The carriage came to a stop.
The door opened, and the outside world rushed back in—voices, movement, the faint echo of a gathering already in disarray.
The Duke stepped down first and then he turned and reached up for her hand.
Emmeline hesitated for the briefest moment, her gaze dropping to his hand, to the strength in it, the steadiness, before she placed her gloved fingers in his. A small, sharp current passed between them, burning her skin.
The Duke’s grip tightened just slightly as he helped her down, his hand lingering a fraction longer than necessary before releasing her.
Emmeline stepped onto the ground.
“Emmeline!”
Her father’s urgent, relieved voice broke through the noise.
