you will excuse me.’ Stephen rose and bid his brother farewell.
Before he could leave, James Chesterfield entered the dining room. The Marquess raised his hand to halt Stephen. ‘Where are you going?’
He met his father’s accusing eyes. ‘I am returning home to my wife.’
‘She cannot remain your wife for long,’ his father warned. ‘Emily Barrow is an unsuitable Countess. Her family was penniless, and after that scandal—’
‘Enough.’ Stephen’s fists curled, and he kept a firm rein upon his temper. ‘It is a legally binding marriage. You can do nothing to end it.’
He didn’t know why he was defending Emily or the impulsive move he’d made. A part of him still questioned whether he even wanted her to remain at his side. He hadn’t decided whether he wanted a wife at all.
But he’d never let his father know it.
The Marquess’s face turned crimson with fury. ‘If you persist in this farce, I shall cut off your funds.’
‘I have investments of my own.’ Stephen kept his voice deliberately calm.
‘Do not presume to introduce her into society as your wife. I am warning you. You will not like the consequences.’
‘Good day, Father.’ Stephen brushed past the Marquess, not bothering to hide his anger. James thrived upon authority and controlling others. He enjoyed arguing, which was precisely why Stephen refused to engage in it. It was his own small measure of power.
For now, he would return home to Emily. Now that he knew the truth, there were decisions to be made.
Namely, whether or not he wanted to remain married to her.
Emily strolled into Mayfair, enjoying the late morning sunshine. She had coerced two footmen into escorting her instead of her maid, preferring their protection. Stephen had left her funds to purchase whatever she might need, but the coins made her uncomfortable.
It reminded her of how much she was bound to him. He truly had rescued her family, providing for Royce and Victoria. Her throat constricted, even as she stiffened her spine.
She’d been so distraught when the men had delivered Daniel’s body. And then to learn that her husband was missing, after being seen last with his mistress…It had been too much to absorb.
She’d lived in a state of numbness, not knowing whether Stephen was alive or dead.
I won’t let myself fall under his spell again.
She’d been weak before, letting herself dream of him. She knew better now, didn’t she? He hadn’t loved her. He didn’t even remember her.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
She gripped her reticule, pushing her mind back to the task at hand. Today she would go shopping. The children needed new clothes, and it would take her mind off her worries.
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