Page 2 of A Duchess to Reclaim

Realizing her transgression, Amelia looked away from Lord Robin’s furious expression and toward her father, only to find an equally savage look on his face. She blushed wildly, fighting the urge to scream, and attempted to salvage the situation.

“Lord Robin, I apologize, I-”

“I knew better than to dance with a ruined flower,” Lord Robin interrupted, his tone vicious. “I only did so because your father offered me money. Clearly you are not worth the price.”

Amelia flinched at the hostility of his words, and watched with deepening embarrassment as he drew his composure, bowed stiffly, and walked away toward a group of men. Her heart hammered in her chest as Lord Robin immediately began whispering to them, and they turned their narrowed eyes toward her in apparent disgust.

She hated this. Hatedallof it. Hated pretending that her reputation could be salvaged. Hated that she was forced to appear as if she actually cared. She had been ruined when Roland had left her. She knew it, embraced it, even if her parents didn’t, and she wished for nothing more than to be able to accept spinsterhood and go hide the rest of her life away in the country.

It would not be so bad. Her dear friend Ophelia would be by her side; another young noble woman who did not wish to marry. And her other dear friends Theo, Rosamund, and Seraphina would visit her frequently.

“What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing?” Her father seethed, grabbing her tightly around her upper arm as he appeared by her side.

“Papa, I am sorry,” she whispered, sweat forming on her forehead as her blush grew into a fever, “It is not my fault, he was being so unseemly, I could not-”

“I told you this was your last chance,” Felton hissed through gritted teeth.

Though he was furious, the calm expression on his face did not even show a hint of it. He’d learned to appear as such while his voice whispered of punishment through years of keeping up with the social standards of the Londonton.If only the others knew what volatile anger laid beneath the disguise of such an unbothered look.

Dread filled Amelia as Felton led them casually through the staring crowd, nodding and smiling politely at every gaze he met. Though she had been grateful for her friends’ absence at the party at first, she suddenly wished they had been able to come. Perhaps their intervention would stay whatever punishment was certainly awaiting her in the carriage.

But alas, Seraphina was with her new husband and baby girls in Vanderbilt, Theo was at home once more nursing her mother’s slowly failing health, Ophelia was visiting her aunt in the country, and Rosamund was at another ball with her own mother across town. She was alone.

Amelia waited until they were in the confines of the carriage before she spoke to her father again, immediately begging for his forgiveness and time.

“Papa, please, you must know this was not my fault! Roland left my reputation in tatters and now the only men that show interest are the most crude,” Amelia insisted.

“Stop blaming everything on Roland,” Felton commanded, his face twisting into a look of pure fury. “You have had three years.Three yearsto prove those rumors wrong and you have failed impeccably.”

Amelia flinched, her lithe body tightening at the damnation, but she did not refute it.

“Very well. I have failed,” she admitted, “You still have two other daughters who could yet marry well. Allow me to retire to the country where I will be out of sight and out of mind to all. By the time Sarah comes of age, they will have forgotten all about me.”

Felton laughed darkly, shaking his head.

“No one will forget about you, darling girl,” his voice a clanging juxtaposition to the kind moniker. “Not after the scenes you have caused. And tonight’s was the last one. For the sake of our family name and your sisters’ future, I am taking care of this matter once and for all tonight.”

Amelia felt herself grow pale as a coldness seeped into her body. She stared at her father in disbelief, wide-eyed and mouth agape. He had not always been this harsh. In fact at one time he was a man that would call to her to sit on his knee, who would tickle under her chin to make her laugh and ask her what she learned that day. But when Roland had left her that night, after he had made the very public announcement at their party, it was as if her father’s personality had been stolen away, and in its place a demon had taken host.

He had not looked at her with true kindness since. Had not had anything but harsh words and reprimands for her. Had she truly done that to him? Had she somehow stolen her father’s joy by being made a fool on what was supposed to be the most exciting night of her life?

Amelia’s throat bobbed as she took in a gulp of air, trying her best to steady her fraying nerves.

“If you will not allow me to disappear to the country,” she said slowly, calmly, “Then will you at least tell me who you have arranged for me to marry? Do I not deserve to know that much?”

Felton stared at her, not a trace of emotion whatsoever in his eyes.

“How can I answer that?” he stated, his tone calm for once, “When I do not know the answer myself?”

Pain sliced through her chest, a sense of danger filling the air.

“What- what do you mean?” She asked. “Where are you taking me?”

The carriage stopped and her father flung open the door before the footman could get to it. For a moment she felt relief as she saw the front of their house. Perhaps her father was just trying to scare her. Perhaps he was-

“Go upstairs, put on your best dress, and come back to the carriage right away,” her father demanded quietly. “Do not talk to anyone. Do not tarry. If I have to come in after you, child, you willnotlike it. Now go.”

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