Page 10 of The Wrong Duke

“I think he’s cute,” Bridget giggled. Her father’s eyes widened at her, and she shrunk back. “Just saying...”

“What did the two of you talk about?” he demanded.

“Nothing!” Amelia said quickly. “Nothing, I promise. He just wanted...” She thought quickly, cursing herself for not coming up with a lie sooner. “He just wanted to know what my intentions were with Lord Malnor, that is all. I think he means to put in a good word for me.”

Her father narrowed his eyes at her, and she held them, determined that he believed the lie. “It’s none of his business.”

“That’s what I told him.”

That, surprisingly, resulted in a smile from her father. “Did you now?”

“Oh yes, Father,” she nodded. “I told him that you meant for me to be courted by Lord Malnor, but beyond that, it wasn’t his concern.”

He tilted his head and studied his daughter, almost looking proud of her. Then he exhaled and gave his head a shake. “Well, it’s done now. But so long as he got the message, I suppose the night wasn’t a complete waste.”

What a debacle Amelia had found herself in. She had thought she was doing the right thing. The smart thing. Knowing her father had his eye on Lord Malnor, Amelia had thought to take the initiative and seduce the Marquess before there was a chance that he might deny her. Better that than the alternative, which she was certain would involve her father selling her off to one of his drunken gambling buddies for the highest price available.

Little did she realize that the man whom she had seduced wasn’t Lord Malnor at all but the very duke who her father despised with a passion she couldn’t have predicted. Worse that the Duke and Lord Malnor were friends which meant there was a very good chance he might tell Lord Malnor what she had done...

Amelia’s only hope was that the Duke knew how to keep his mouth shut, and that the next time she spoke with Lord Malnor, she made sure it was him who she was actually speaking with.

“His Grace is no concern,” her father huffed. “And I don’t want his name mentioned again, understood?” He looked warningly at Amelia, who nodded her head, and then at her sister, who also nodded. “Good. It is Lord Malnor whom we must concentrate on. He is the one whom I intend to see you wed. Understand?”

“Yes, Father,” she said meekly.

“What was that?”

“Yes, Father,” she said with more conviction.

“Good. Last night would have been a perfect chance, too. And if it wasn’t for that duke...” He clicked his tongue. “The man is a menace!”

She’d had no idea until this morning how much her father hated His Grace. Strange that his abhorrence for the man whom she had kissed had the complete opposite effect on her. Yes, the man was arrogant and nosy and just plain rude. But he was more than that ...

Since she’d returned home the previous evening, despite how hard she had tried, her mind had continued to drift back to that kiss. A quick thing, mere seconds at most, but in her mind’s eye, it seemed to last an age. The feel of his lips on her own. The warmth of his breath. The way his heart fluttered at her touch. And that wasn’t to mention the way he had taken hold of her, his strong hands gripping her waist and... No. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to pine for it. But whenever she found herself remembering that fleeting kiss, her cheeks flushed bright red, and she became somewhat... confused.

“Amelia!” her father barked again. “I said pay attention.”

“Wh — sorry, Father,” she stammered, cursing herself silently for drifting off again.

“Honestly, girl. I thought you were past this. Remind me, do I have to treat you as a toddler again? I do not wish it but...” He glared at her in a way that made her blood turn cold as she remembered the way he used to treat her when she was younger; the slightest accident made, and he would punish her as if she was one of his horses that had stepped out of line.

“It won’t happen again,” she said softly, unable to meet his eyes because when she did, her arm throbbed from memories of the times he would grab her, drag her to her room, and toss her inside like a ragdoll.

“I do have good news,” her father continued, his tone as cold as his glare. “Tomorrow night, we have been invited to a dinner at Lord Brundel’s manor.”

“Oh,” Bridget said. “I hate him. He always stares at me.”

“He is a viscount,” her father snapped, “and you will treat him with respect!” A raised eyebrow in warning, and her sister went back to her plate, muttering under her breath. “The point is we have been invited to sup, and it is my understanding that Lord Malnor will be there also.”

“Oh?” Amelia said. She almost asked if the Duke would be there too but was smart enough to keep that thought to herself.

“You failed me last night, Amelia,” he said with a click of his tongue. “You knew what you had to do, and you didn’t do it. It is as simple as that.” He held a hand up to silence her, even though she didn’t move to speak. “But tomorrow night, you will make up for it, understand?”

“Yes, Father. I will do my best.”

“You’ll do better than that. I think you know the consequences if you don’t. I have many friends who would literally kill to find themselves wedded to a daughter of mine, and while most are beneath our station, it is better that than raise a spinster.”

How could he be so cold? How could he be so callous? And most importantly, how could he be so uncaring to those he was meant to love? Amelia knew of what he spoke. Bridget too. Her father had made no secret of the fact that he would have preferred to have sons, but in light of that, he was making do with daughters the only way he knew how. Money was what he wanted, money made from a good match. If Amelia didn’t marry the Marquess, if she failed him, then it would be up to Bridget to succeed where she could not. And at seventeen years of age, Amelia very much doubted that he’d be willing to wait much longer.

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