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The accusation stung like a slap. A coward.
He was trying to be the opposite. He was trying to stay strong for the children he loved—the children Honoria loved. He was trying to protect them. “I’m doing this for you, Elise.”
“Well, I’m not asking you to!” she shot back, stomping her foot. “When Honoria came to me and told me what little she could about her past, I encouraged her to tell you, to seek your support because I thought you’d give it. I thought you’d stand by her every step of the way. And here you are—running!”
He raked a hand through his hair, his whole body tight with tension. “I’m running because if I’m tied to her when the scandal breaks—and it will break and linger for years—we will be ruined. You will be ruined,” he said, pointing at her. “You will suffer for it. You think I care what society thinks of me? I don’t. I haven’t for decades.”
“Then why should I?” Elise asked, chin lifting defiantly.
“Because society treats women differently.” He swallowed hard. “Because you will be punished for my actions. You’ll be shunned during your debut—maybe for years after. You might never make a respectable match.”
And you deserve more than that. More than being ostracized and hearing cruel whispers behind fans. You deserve everything.
“You think I care about that?” Elise cried.
Jacob turned away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze. “You should.”
“No.” She stepped closer. “I shouldn’t. And I don’t.” Another step. “I care about being a decent person.” Step. “I care about my family.” Step. “About standing beside the woman who raised my siblings, who supported me through everything.”
By the time she finished, she was right behind him.
Jacob turned to face her. She stood tall, a defiant spark in her eyes. Not the lost girl who had arrived on his doorstep three years ago, but the strong, stubborn young woman Honoria had helped raise.
“And if men won’t marry me because of that,” Elise said, her voice trembling with conviction, “then why would I want to marry them? I want a good man. A compassionate man. A man who’ll fight for me and the people he loves. A man like the one I thought you were.”
I thought you were.
Jacob took a step back, distancing himself from the weight of her words.
He turned to Lady Somerville, who sat upright, her fingers laced in her lap, her expression unreadable. “Would you care to chime in?” he asked, voice brittle.
Lady Somerville shrugged. “I think you’ve got enough on your hands.”
Jacob frowned. “Pardon me?”
“You don’t want to hear from me, Caldwell. I wouldn’t side with you.”
Jacob crossed his arms. “How can you say that? You, of all people, know the weight of society’s opinions. Hell, you help shape them. You know how hard they are to shake.”
“You’re right, I do. But in my advanced age, I’ve simply forgotten to care.”
Jacob regretted asking. Now he had to argue with both of them. “Elise doesn’t have that luxury,” he said.
“You’re right. And I wouldn’t have risked my standing in society for another when I was her age…” She paused, adjusting the rings on her fingers with deliberate care.
“Yes, you would have,” Elise said, stepping toward her. “Where do you think I got this attitude? Where do you think I learned to speak my mind?”
The older woman huffed, but the flicker of satisfaction in her expression betrayed her pride. “Only with years have I acquired my brazenness, child.” Her eyes grew distant. “Then again… maybe one shouldn’t wait until old age to shed the weight of others’ expectations. To carve their own path. Maybe my life would’ve been… different, had I found that spark at your age. Better.”
Jacob’s throat tightened. “What are you saying?”
“I was going to say, ‘Listen to Elise,’” she replied softly. “But I don’t think that’s quite right.”
“It’s not?” Elise’s face fell.
“What I am saying is—listen to your heart.”
* * *