Page 79 of Mr. Cavendish, I Presume

“But his name—”

“Was Cavendish at birth,” Mr. Audley said. “I went by Cavendish-Audley at school. You may check the records, should you wish.”

“Here?” her father asked.

“In Enniskillen. I only came to England after serving in the army.”

Amelia’s father nodded approvingly. He’d always wanted to join the military, she remembered. He couldn’t, of course. He’d gained the earldom at the age of seventeen, with no male heirs behind him. Crowland could not risk losing the last earl before he’d had a chance to procreate. As it was, he’d had five daughters. Amelia wondered if he sometimes wished he’d just gone into the army. The outcome would have been the same, as far as the earldom was concerned.

“I am satisfied that he is a blood relation,” Thomas said quietly. “All that remains is to determine whether he is also one by law.”

“This is a disaster,” her father muttered, and he walked over to the window to look out.

All eyes followed him—what else were they meant to look at, in such a silent room?

“I signed the contract in good faith,” he said, still staring out over the lawn. “Twenty years ago, I signed the contract.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. She’d never heard her father speak this way. His voice was tense, barely controlled, like a string pulled taut and trembling, just waiting to snap.

Abruptly, he turned around. “Do you understand?” he demanded, and it was difficult to know just who he was yelling at until his eyes came to rest on Thomas’s face.

“Your father came to me with his plans, and I agreed to them, believing you to be the rightful heir to the dukedom. She was to be a duchess. A duchess! Do you think I would have signed away my daughter had I known you were nothing but…but…”

Her father’s face turned red and ugly as he tried to figure out just what Thomas was. Or would be, if Mr. Audley’s claim was authenticated. Amelia felt sick. For herself. For Thomas.

“You may call me Mr. Cavendish, if you so desire,” Thomas said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “If you think it might help you to accustom yourself to the idea.”

But her father was not finished. “I will not allow my daughter to be cheated. If you do not prove to be the right and lawful Duke of Wyndham, you may consider the betrothal null and void.”

No!

Amelia wanted to shout it. He couldn’t just tear it all up. He couldn’t do this to her. She looked frantically to Thomas. Surely he would say something. Something had happened between them. They were no longer strangers. He liked her. He cared for her. He would fight for her.

But no.

Her heart sank. Crushed under its own leaden weight.

Apparently he would not.

Because when her mind cleared enough for her to focus on his face, she saw that he was nodding. And he said, “As you wish.”

“As you wish,” she echoed, unable to believe it. But no one heard her. It was just a whisper. Just a horror-struck whisper from a woman no one seemed to notice.

They weren’t looking at her. None of them. Not even Grace.

And then her father turned, and he looked at Mr. Audley, and he pointed his finger at him. “If that is the case,” he said, “if you are the Duke of Wyndham, you will marry her.”

Later that night, and every night for many weeks, Amelia relived that moment in her head. She saw her father move, turning, pointing. She saw his lips form the words. Heard his voice. Saw the shock on everyone’s faces.

Saw the horror on Mr. Audley’s.

And every time, when it all played out again, she said something different. Something clever, or something cutting. Maybe something witty, or something furious.

But always something.

In actuality, however, she said nothing. Not a word. Her own father was trying to foist her onto a man she did not know, in front of people she did know, and she said…

Nothing.

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