Dorothea was descending the staircase, dressed in a white wrapper, her red hair braided and trailing over one shoulder. Her brows drew together. “Where were you?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.
There was no use in lying to her. Not now. “I went to your brother’s townhouse.”
Her frown deepened. “At this hour?”
“It wasn’t to see him,” Dominic replied. “I was searching for something. The wills.”
Dorothea froze at the base of the stairs, her eyes wide. “You found the second will?”
“I did.”
Without hesitation, she hurried to him, her bare feet barely making a sound against the marble floor. “What did it say?”
“I haven’t read it yet,” he admitted.
She stared at him in disbelief. “Why on earth not?”
He gave a crooked smile, the tension easing just slightly. “At the moment,you’rethe thing stopping me.”
A laugh broke from her lips. “Well then, we can rectify that. Shall we adjourn to the kitchen and read the wills over a biscuit or two?”
He gestured gallantly. “Lead the way, my lady.”
As they walked down the corridor side by side, he asked, “May I ask what kept you awake?”
She hesitated. “I kept thinking about what Lord Inglewood said to me. The way he looked at me. Spoke to me.”
Dominic’s jaw tensed. “He can’t hurt you.”
“I know,” she said slowly. “But what is to stop others from doing the same? From thinking that I am… available? Tarnished?”
“You are not tarnished,” he said, more sharply than intended.
She paused in the doorway of the kitchen, her expression shadowed. “If the annulment is granted, there will be whispers. And some men will take those whispers as permission. You say you’ll protect me, but you can’t duel every man who speaks ill of me. You can’t guard every room I walk into.”
Dominic said nothing at first. Her words rang with truth. He couldn’t fight every man who dared utter a cruel word. But he could stop the need for such defense altogether. He could stay.
He could choose her.
The realization settled heavily in his chest. “You’re right,” he murmured at last. “I can’t protect you from everything.”
She looked away, a small nod of acknowledgment passing between them. But when his voice came again, it was lower. Steadier.
“But I can protect you by withdrawing the petition for annulment and staying married to you,” he said.
Dorothea stared at Dominic, her breath catching in her throat.Did he truly mean it?The words he had just spoken were what she had longed to hear—for him to stay, to choose her. And yet… the moment that longing flickered to life, a wave of cold disappointment crashed over her.
He wasn’t choosing her out of love.
There had been no such confession. No tender declaration. He was offering to remain married out of protection, out of duty.
Not desire.
Not affection.
Not love.
And she loved him too much to accept that kind of half-hearted vow. To chain him to a life he might one day grow to resent. If she kept him in this marriage—knowing he didn’t want it—how long until he looked at her with regret instead of tenderness? That, more than any whispered scandal, was what she feared most.
