Page 89 of A Temporary Bride for the Duke

“I do believe you’ve already asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage,” the Earl blustered, trying to regain his footing. “What else is left to discuss so urgently? You want to know about her dowry? I admit it’s small, but?—”

“I have no interest in your money, Lord Claymore,” Edmund interrupted, the words slicing through the room like ice.

“Then what is it?”

“Your daughter was forced into a position that I find utterly abhorrent,” Edmund said, leaning forward, his broad shoulders squaring. “She was forced to assume your responsibilities and quietly pay your debts. She put herself in grave danger to shield this family, and had I not arrived in time—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle violently twitched. He expelled a sharp, furious breath, his fist tightening against his knee.

The Earl shot to his feet, the shock temporarily sobering him. “What are you talking about?”

“Lord Dulforth,” Edmund spat out the name like poison. “He has been blackmailing your daughter.”

“Surely not!” the Earl protested, his face flushing a mottled red. “Dulforth and I reached an agreement. I was to pay him slowly.”

“And had you begun to pay him at all?”

“Well… no, but?—”

“And it never occurred to your lordship why a creature like that didn’t simply have you thrown into a debtor’s prison?”

The Earl puffed up his chest, his voice rising in defensive anger. “I am a gentleman!”

“Then act like one,” Edmund snapped, his restraint finally fracturing. “A gentleman knows that gambling debts are settled immediately. Yet you thought… what? That Dulforth was a patient benefactor? That you had an infinite amount of time?”

Daisy hunched in on herself, a deep, burning embarrassment for her father flushing through her. Yet beneath the shame, a powerful, cathartic emotion was brimming in her chest. She had spent her entire life managing the fallout of her family's failures; she had never, not once, been defended like this.

“I—I—I did not think—” the Earl floundered.

“You didn’t care, just so long as he didn’t bother your peace,” Edmund replied harshly, his gaze raking down the Earl’s disheveled frame with pure disgust. “Look at you. You’re ape-drunk before the sun has even fully set. You would rather drown your senses in spirits than secure your own household. What kind of man leaves his daughter to face a predator alone?”

The Earl merely gaped, looking entirely undone as he searched for some way to defend his honor. Finding none, his desperate gaze finally landed on Daisy.

“My girl… what happened to you? Why did you not tell me Dulforth was pursuing you?”

Daisy’s mouth twisted bitterly. The lingering fear from the carriage ride evaporated, leaving behind a cold, sharp clarity. “Would you have done something about it, Papa? Or would youhave simply offered me up like a sacrificial lamb to clear your ledger?”

“Daisy!” The Earl gasped, taking a step back as if struck. “I would never. Is that truly what you think of me?”

Daisy shrugged, though the movement felt heavy, weighted by years of quiet neglect. “I don’t know. All I know is that I have long since learned not to trust you with my well-being.”

A heavy, ringing silence fell over the room. The Earl looked at his daughter as if seeing her clearly for the first time in years.

“Have you not been living in a house where you don’t even know if there is food on the table?” Daisy continued, her voice trembling but steady. Do you know who paid the vendors this month? Who managed the servants so they wouldn't leave us?”

Her father slowly lifted his hands in a gesture of utter surrender. The anger drained out of him, leaving him looking small, old, and broken. “I am sorry,” he whispered quietly. “I understand that I have been deeply remiss in my duties.” He looked directly into her eyes; his expression wretched. “Can you ever forgive me, Daisy?”

Daisy looked at the broken man before her and felt a sad, quiet wave of pity. “I can forgive you, Papa. But only if you promise to try harder.”

“I promise,” the Earl said immediately, a sudden flash of misguided bravado returning to his face. “I’ll start tomorrow. I shall go and challenge Dulforth to a duel for what he did to you.”

Daisy barked out a sudden, surprised laugh, the absurdity breaking the heavy tension. “There is absolutely no need for that.” She turned, casting a deeply fond, soft glance toward the man sitting beside her. “The Duke has already rescued me. Dulforth will not dare show his face near us again.”

The Earl shifted his attention to Edmund, looking thoroughly impressed and small in comparison to the younger man's imposing presence. “Well… it seems you chose your future husband well, my dear.”

Daisy looked up, her gaze instantly locking with Edmund’s. He was already staring down at her, his honey-warm eyes entirely open, completely unraveled by the vulnerabilities they had shared. The fierce, protective anger that had stiffened his spine melted into something profoundly tender, wrapping around her like a physical embrace.

She smiled, her voice barely a whisper. “I did.”

“Which brings us to the final matter,” Edmund announced, his voice echoing clearly against the parlor walls. “I have officially proposed to Daisy, and we will not be waiting for the Season to conclude. Lady Daisy and I are to be wed in exactly one month’s time.”