Page 65 of The Wrong Duke

“Wh — what do you mean?” she glanced behind her father, expecting Lord Malnor to pop out.

He sighed and strolled into the room. “I have some bad news. Lord Malnor...” His lip curled, and he shook his head. “He wrote me earlier, and it seems that he has decided not to go through with the wedding.”

“He did?!” She couldn’t hide the excitement from her voice; her eyes went wide, and she dared a smile. “Wh — why? Did he say?”

“He did not.” Her father reached the middle of the room and stopped. Arms folded across his chest, he looked about the room as if angered by it. “The man is an embarrassment to his class. After what the two of you were caught doing —”

“We didn’t do anything,” she blurted.

Her father narrowed his eyes in warning. “After what you were caught doing,” he repeated coldly, “I would have thought he’d have enough respect for himself, not to mention his station, to do the honorable thing. It seems that I underestimated you.”

“What do you mean?”

“All this time, I thought I had a daughter than any man would be thrilled to wed. I was led to believe that you were desirable, that it would be a simple thing to hand you off. Now, I know better.”

Oh, how she hated him. Did he really blame her? Did he really think that this had anything to do with her? What she would have liked to have said was that this was his doing. That Lord Malnor likely knew who tricked him, and this was his way of getting back at the man. She would have liked to have laughed in his face and called him a failure — an idiotic, fat loser who wasn’t fit to tie the Marquess’ boots!

She didn’t, not because she didn’t want to upset him but because deep down, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, he might have changed his mind. He said, he would auction her off if the Marquess denied her. But what if it was an empty threat? What if there was a chance he might seek someone else? And that she might even suggest it.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she forced herself to say, speaking through her teeth to keep the anger at bay. “I don’t know what to say.”

“There’s nothing you can say. What’d done is done, and it is as simple as that. Which means...” He leveled a stare right at her, and in that moment, she knew exactly what was coming. “...that —”

“Please!” Amelia leapt to her feet. “You don’t have to do this.”

Her father frowned as if surprised by her reaction. “This again? Really, Amelia? You embarrass yourself.”

“There has to be another way.” In a moment of desperation with no other choice left to her, she threw herself at her father’s feet. “I will marry another. There has to be another who —”

“I told you already, there is not. And now that Lord Malnor has rejected you, what man will have you?”

“I know of one!” she cried before she could stop herself. Her eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth.

“What?” her father growled. She shook her head, and he stepped forward. She fell backwards so that she was looking right up at him. “Who?”

She had no choice. A final, desperate plea because that was where she was at. “His Grace...” she said a little too softly. “If you were to ask —”

“His Grace?!” her father snarled. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Please! I know that if you —”

“If I what? If I went to him, hand in hat and begged him? Do you really think I would put myself through that? Do you really think I would suffer that indignity, just to be laughed at? I thought you daft girl, but I had no idea how stupid you were.”

“He will!” she cried. “I promise you, if you were to ask —”

“The decision has been made, Amelia. And you know what it is.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she gasped.

“No. Please. You can’t!”

“It is done. Tonight, you and your sister will join me in London. I have already told my friends what to expect, and needless to say, they were nothing if not excited.”

“Just me then!” she begged, pushing herself back up and grabbing a hold of her father’s hands. “Just me! Don’t include Bridget. There is no need to —”

“Just you?” he barked a laugh. “You certainly have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you. My friends are rich, Amelia, but you are not worth the price I require. Both you and Bridget however...” The smile that crossed his face made her blood run as cold as ice. “Yes, the two of you will fetch a fine price.”

The man who stood before her wasn’t her father. There was just no way. He was a monster, ripped from the pages of one of the stories she used to read as a girl. There would be no bargaining. No reasoning. One needed a soul to be reasoned with, and this cretin didn’t possess such a thing.

“We leave in four hours.” He pushed her away and started back across the room. “I expect you to be —”