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“Upon me,” the Duke interrupted, his voice low and rough.

The Dowager Duchess flinched, glancing uncertainly at him. “I… I beg your pardon, Edward?”

The Duke leaned forward, scowling. He did not look at Daphne.

“All of this, Clarissa, has been brought uponme. Me, my family, my title, my name. Whatever these scandal sheets say, it is I who will bear the consequences. Don’t forget your place.”

The Dowager Duchess flinched. “Myplace? May I remind you that I was married to your father, Edward!”

“But that does not make you my mother!” Edward shot back at once.

There was an awful silence after that.

Clarissa had gone pale, her lips almost disappearing into a thin line. The Duke seemed a little taken aback by his own words. Regretful, perhaps? He said nothing, though, and the awful moment dragged on and on.

Daphne wished she could sink through the floor. She wished she was anywhere but here. She briefly contemplated throwing herself out of the window. She could probably smash through the glass if she got a good run-up.

“Excuse me,” Clarissa said, her voice tight and shaking.

Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the room, knocking her shoulder against Daphne’s on the way.

Another silence followed, but this time, Daphne was ready for it.

“Something terrible has clearly happened,” she said, her voice a little too loud for the silence, “and I would appreciate it if somebody told me what’s going on.”

The Duke rose to his feet, glaring at her. “Don’t play the innocent, little goose with me,” he snarled. “This is all your doing.”

“My doing? What, exactly, have I done?”

He stared at her for a long moment. Daphne forced herself to meet his gaze squarely.

I’m not afraid of you, Sir. You can shout down all the others and bully your stepmother, but none of that will work with me.

He slammed down the crumpled bit of paper on the table.

“Read that,” he said shortly. “Then come to my study. At once, do you hear?”

Daphne opened her mouth to say that she was not in the habit of taking orders from anyone, least of all him, but he did not wait to hear her reply, storming out of the room at once.

There seemed little else to do but move over to the crumpled piece of paper. She was aware of both Alex and Mrs. Trench’s eyes on her.

She recognized the paper at once. It was a page from one of the most widely-read scandal sheets in London,The Watchful Chaperone.Heart sinking, Daphne began to read.

She Protected Her Sister But Could Not Protect Herself!

Dedicated Readers of The Watchful Chaperonewill be appalled and thrilled to hear about the latest scandal. Once again, the Belmont name has appeared in our papers, alongside another infamous name.

Only yesterday, polite society was shocked by a display of wanton deceit and a runaway bride. Miss Emily Belmont, dueto marry the illustrious Duke of Clapton, was replaced upon her wedding day by her very own twin sister, Miss Daphne Belmont. For what reasons, this author cannot say, but rest assured that she shall get to the bottom of this. The sharp-eyed Duke noticed the villainous swap at once, and Miss Daphne promptly bolted, leaving the poor gentleman at the altar.

But the story is not over yet. Miss Daphne Belmont fled the church and is said to have made a beeline to none other than the estate of the Duke of Thornbridge, a name familiar to long-time readers of these sheets. An infamous recluse, the Beastly Duke has kept his distance from Society for many years, giving rise to speculation about the Thornbridge curse, which may well target innocent female members of that family. A source close to the Duke himself confirmed that Miss Belmont did indeed spend the night—unchaperoned!—under the Duke’s roof. Scandalous, indeed!

However, speculation must naturally arise about why Miss Belmont went straight to the Duke’s estate. A coincidence? Hardly. The meeting was most clearly arranged ahead of time, and one must wonder whether Miss Belmont intended to marry the Duke of Clapton at all. Perhaps she had her sights firmly set on another prize. Or perhaps the Duke of Thornbridge has woven his dastardly magic on a naive and thoughtless young girl.

A fatal mistake, Miss Daphne Belmont! For now, you are a warning example held up to other errant ladies.

It is clear, of course, that Miss Daphne cannot return to Society until this matter is concluded. No doubt this is an irrevocable fall. One is inclined to remember the elder Miss Belmont, now the Duchess of Langdon, who was unfortunately jilted and left at the altar, and hastily contracted marriage with the Duke of Langdon, the elder brother of her groom-to-be. Could such unluckiness in marriage descend through a family? This author believes so.

And so, dearest readers, this author shall continue to investigate and will keep dedicated readers updated on the latest scandals and developments. Best of luck, Miss Belmont! You have our pity. Or is it the Beastly Duke we should feel sorry for?