Page 9 of The Wrong Duke

Miss Baker was quick to leave the dance floor after that, darting through the crowd and in the opposite direction of where her father stood waiting. Evan breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it, convinced for a moment that his warning would be headed and this would be the last time he would hear Miss Baker’s name.

But then he remembered that look in her eyes. That smirk on her lips. The attitude that she wore like a winter’s cloak — like badge of honor. Oh, he might have liked to think that this was the end of it, but deep down, he knew better. Deep down he knew that from now on, for this Season at least, he’d have to keep his eye on Miss Baker whether she liked it or not.

CHAPTERFOUR

“Amelia?” Amelia’s father, Lord Lindstone, started from the end of the table, frustration coloring his tone. “Amelia, are you listening?”

She was not. Not that she was aware of it. Her mind was a million miles away, fixed on the previous night, running over the events that transpired again and again and again... one event in particular. It was silly of her to behave so disconnected when breaking her fast with her family as she knew that her father was likely to demand her attention and quiz her on the night before. But it wasn’t on purpose, and it wasn’t as if she wished it on herself. Sometimes, it was just the way that things were.

“Amelia!” her father barked, snapping her back to attention. “I am speaking to you.”

“Hmm?” She looked up, saw her father’s angered glare, and tried for an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Father. I was... I’m still waking up, I’m afraid.”

“You’re daydreaming,” he snapped at her. “What have I told you about letting your mind wander like that?”

“That I shouldn’t allow it,” she sighed.

He nodded. “When the time comes for you to be wed, what man will have you? A wife whose mind wanders like an unbridled horse the moment she isn’t being lavished with attention. They will think you lame.”

“Sorry, Father,” she said meekly, bowing her head to show that she had heard his rebuke and was properly chastised by it.

Out the corner of her eye, she caught her younger sister, Bridget, rolling her eyes sarcastically so that only Amelia would notice. This had Amelia suppressing a grin; a quick glance at her father who was snapping his fingers at one of the servants, and she stuck her tongue out playfully.

“Speaking of which...” Her father exhaled and pushed his plate away to signal that he was finished eating. “...we must talk about last night.”

Amelia’s eyes went wide. Last night? Where her head was at that moment, she immediately assumed he had somehow found out about her stolen kiss and who it was with. That he had heard her conversation with the Duke. That he knew about what she had been thinking of all morning and was readying to punish her the only way he knew how.

“Wh — what of it?” she choked, reaching for a glass of water and taking a quick sip to cover her stutter.

“What do you think?” He looked right at her, one eyebrow raised. “Lord Malnor, of course. Who else?”

“Oh, isn’t he lovely,” Amelia’s mother crooned. She was sitting at the other end of the table, picking at her plate like a bird might pick at seeds. She was a lithe thing, Lady Lindstone, all elbows and a willowy frame, sharp features, also, which Amelia’s younger sister had inherited. “A real gentleman.”

“I wasn’t aware you were so familiar with him,” her father said coldly.

Her mother’s eyes went wide, and she was quick to focus her attention back on her plate. “I’m not, dear. I’ve just heard that he’s a lovely sort, that is all. Perfect for our Amelia.”

“Yes.” Her father eyed her mother a moment more, that glare warning as if there was some chance that his wife was infatuated with another man so he best warn her off it right now. “That is my thought exactly.”

Amelia was careful not to meet her father’s gaze or to do or say anything that might upset him. It was early in the morning, barely past sunrise, and when he got this way, she knew from personal experience that there was little that could change it. Best to be agreeable and apologetic. It was best to simply say yes to whatever he wanted and wait until she was excused — a moment that could not come soon enough.

Oh, how she hated her father. A terrible thing to say, but in this instance, she felt that it was warranted. The way he treated her mother. The way he treated her and her younger sister. There was no love there, and there never had been. She, as well as Bridget, were merely objects to be used at his beck and call, pieces on a chess board that he moved in any way that he saw fit.

“Before we discuss the Marquess, however...” He paused, long enough that Amelia was forced to look up because she could feel his cold stare demanding that she do so. “...what on earth were you doing last night with His Grace?”

Amelia flinched. “I — I don’t know what you —”

“I told you,” he barked. “Nay, I commanded. It was Lord Malnor who you were meant to dance with. Who you were meant to seek out. But for reasons that I cannot fathom, there you were, dancing with His Grace — infatuated by him! Or that was how it looked.”

“I —”

“And in front of the entiretontoo,” he snarled. “How do you think that looks? What do you think people are going tosay?” His chubby cheeks flared red, his beady eyes glazed much the same.

“I had no choice!” Amelia cried. “Father, you were there. He asked me to dance with him. He is a duke. I couldn’t well deny him.”

“Really?” her mother intervened curiously, almost sounding excited. “Well, that’s interesting.”

“It’s not,” her father snapped at her mother. “It’s a darn nuisance is what it is. His Grace...” The words dripped from his tongue like poison. “I’ve never met a man so arrogant. The way he struts around — lauds his position over everyone.” A shake of the head. “He’s an embarrassment to his station.”

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