They Mocked Their Elder Sister For Being Unmarried… Until A Mysterious Duke Approached Her At The..

Chapter 7

Late one evening, Alistair returned unexpectedly to Whitmore Manor after realizing he had forgotten important documents in the study. As he walked through the corridor near the drawing room, angry voices stopped him.

Seraphina’s voice carried clearly through the partially open door. “She is embarrassing herself chasing him. At her age, she should be grateful for any attention at all.”

Arabella laughed sharply. “Once he grows bored, things will return to normal. Men like him do not marry women like her.”

Lavinia added quietly, “Perhaps once he stops visiting, we can finally have peace again.”

Alistair’s jaw tightened. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open.

The sisters froze immediately. Lady Helena’s face drained of color. Lord Reginald stared at the floor.

“What exactly,” Alistair asked calmly, his voice carrying the cold precision of a blade, “has Miss Whitmore done but endure cruelty from her own family?”

Nobody answered.

Alistair stepped forward, his gaze moving across each face in the room. “I have heard the way you speak to her. I have seen the way you look at her. I have watched you humiliate her in front of guests, in front of servants, in front of your own husbands. And I have never once heard her speak an unkind word about any of you in return.”

The silence was absolute.

“Elara Whitmore possesses more dignity,” Alistair continued, his voice sharp enough to cut through stone, “than anyone I have met within this household. If you cannot see that, the failure is yours, not hers.”

He walked away before anyone could respond.

Hours later, Elara stood alone near the darkened garden windows, tears streaming silently down her face. She had heard everything. When Alistair found her, she tried to hide her tears, embarrassed by her own emotions.

“No one has ever defended me before,” she whispered painfully. Her voice cracked on the last word. “They have treated me this way for so long that I began to believe I deserved it.”

Alistair stood in the shadows, his hands clenched at his sides. The sight of her tears stirred something protective and fierce inside him, something he thought Vivienne had killed forever.

“Elara,” he said quietly, and the sound of her name in his voice made her look up. “You deserve far more than they have given you. You deserve to be seen. To be valued. To be loved without condition.”

Her breath caught. “You barely know me.”

“I know enough,” he replied. “I know that you are kind when no one is watching. I know that you carry pain without letting it harden your heart. I know that you are the only person in that ballroom who made me feel something other than contempt.”

That night, long after leaving the estate, Alistair sat alone inside his carriage beneath the glow of a small lantern. Resting silently in his hand was a diamond engagement ring he had purchased days earlier.

He had known for weeks what he wanted. He had simply been waiting for the right moment.