“You and Emma were caught in the duke’s parlor, presumably in an intimate moment. Her dress was disheveled and your trousers undone.”
William scoffed in disgust. He could not believe the tales that would soon circulate the entire county. “That is utterly ludicrous. Why on earth would I engage in an intimate moment with Emma, and have undone trousers?”
“Precisely. Although you do have rakish tendencies. No offense, brother,” Elizabeth stated with a cringe.
“No offense taken,” he grumbled.
“I am well aware of how much the young lady frustrates you. Although you have been civil to her for the sake of James and Kitty, you would most certainly not do such a thing. Emma would not allow it either. She would toss you from the balcony, not be intimate with you. At a ball, of all places.”
William’s jaw clenched as Lizzie proceeded to emphasize how much Emma despised him, much to his dismay and frustration, but he remained quiet. The guilt, however, had begun to bubble up inside him, and he feared that soon enough he would admit to her that it had been indeed the truth.
“Of course, I did not believe those tales, as Lady Clara—”
“She was the one who told you?” William interjected.
“Indeed,” she answered. “But all of Somerset is aware of how tall Lady Clara tends to weave a tale, which was why I did not believe her and told her to stop being irresponsible with her tongue.”
“Thank you for that, sister,” William said gratefully, “but I must confess. The root of the tale is true.”
“I beg your pardon?” Lizzie exclaimed.
“Emma and I were in the duke’s parlor, alone, when Lady Clara walked in. She seems to be under the impression that something had happened between us, but...”
“Nothing had. Brother, there is no need to feel guilty, as I see it in your face. You did nothing wrong, and neither you nor Emma must feel worried. You both know the truth of what happened.”
“But her reputation will be ruined because of a lie.”
A lie I just told, William admitted to himself.
“Brother, do not fret. I will ensure that nothing happens to Emma, nor her reputation. I vow this to you.”
William nodded gratefully and sat back against the velvet cushion of the coach, clenching his fingers into fists.
He was well aware that his sister did not have enough influence or power to stand by her vow, but he trusted her beyond a reasonable doubt.
After arriving at Woodlock Manor, he made his way to his chambers and stayed there for a short while. He paced around until finally, he could no longer take the agony and left.
He made his way to Emma’s bedchamber and knocked softly on the door. He heard shuffling inside but remained quiet. The door slowly opened and Emma stood in the doorway, dressed in a soft white night shift, her long red hair hanging loosely down her shoulders.
“My lord,” Emma whispered with a furrowed brow.
“May I speak with you for a moment?”
Emma sighed. “Do you think this is a good time?”
“As good a time as any. I must speak with you. Please,” he practically begged.
Emma pursed her lips for a moment and nodded. “Very well, but quickly.”
“Of course,” William whispered and entered her bedchamber.
Emma closed the door and turned to him. Her eyes were red, and there were tear-stains present on her cheeks as the light of the candle by her bedside illuminated her face.
“You’ve been crying,” he said as he approached her, but she fobbed him off.
“No matter. Why do you wish to speak to me at this hour, my lord?” Emma asked and crossed her arms.
“Lizzie informed me of the rumors that have already begun to circulate about the two of us,” he answered.
“No, those rumors are about me. They do not include you, and even if they had, it would not matter. When men do scandalous things, they are not gossiped about or torn to shreds by the very people whom they had considered friends. Your reputation was not harmed in the process. Mine was, and will be for a long while,” Emma answered, her tone bitter.
He hated seeing her like this. It was beyond the pale.
“Allow me to right this injustice.”
“I would rather not, William. It happened, and now I must take responsibility for my actions.”
“Our actions.”
He was not a fool. It took two, and he would not allow her to take the fall for a decision they made together.
Emma smiled, though it looked strained, and shook her head. “This is what I meant when I told you it is difficult enough being a woman, without being involved in a scandal. We are persecuted and called out as being promiscuous even if it is not true. But this is my burden to bear.”
“Emma, you could have easily told people that I had forced you into that position,” he offered. “You still can.”
“But it is not true,” she said simply and William’s chest tightened.
What man did he know who had this sort of integrity?
Truth above all else.
He couldn’t stand by and let her sacrifice herself. “It does not matter. I am willing to do that for you.”
Emma sighed. “While I admire your noble heart, I cannot allow you to lie and tarnish your reputation for the sake of saving mine. I cannot allow that. William... you mean too much to me.”
A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard. “Emma—”
“Please, leave me be for the night. I am tired,” she said, glancing at the carpet beneath their feet and opening the door for him.
He straightened his spine and nodded morosely.
What else could he do but respect her request?
He’d made enough of a mess for one night.
He bowed to Emma and quietly left her bedchamber, consumed by guilt. He’d now irreparably hurt the only woman he had ever truly cared for.
Chapter Eleven
It had only been three days since Emma had returned to her parents’ townhouse in Somerset, a short journey from Woodlock Manor, however, she had
