Duke of Wicked Intentions by Harriet Caves

Chapter Fourteen

Later that evening, Miranda wandered aimlessly through the halls of the Manor, lost in her thoughts and disappointments. Rowena and Lord Dunlop had long ago departed, and she hadn’t seen Benedict since. He’d all but fled to his study, shutting the door firmly behind him. He didn’t come out the rest of the afternoon, and as far as Miranda knew, he’d taken his dinner in there as well.

A small part of her wanted to go and bang on the door until he let her in. Then, she would lay into him and tell him exactly what she thought of him and his treatment of her. However, she reined in her temper and avoided his study, knowing no good would come of confronting him there. Plus, she didn’t think she could be in that room alone with him again without reliving what had happened the last time they’d been there together.

“Goodness, you look like a specter haunting these halls,” a cool voice suddenly jerked Miranda from her thoughts. “It’s a rather pitiable sight, My Dear. You really should confine yourself to your room when in such a gloomy state.”

Miranda held in the groan that wished to tear itself from her chest and slowly turned to face her mother-in-law. The Dowager was standing with her hands folded in front of her and a superior look on her face that Miranda was becoming only too familiar with.

“Good evening, Lady Morgan” Miranda said, doing her best to keep her irritation leashed. “I didn’t hear you approach.”

“Of course you didn’t, with your head in the clouds such as it was,” the Dowager replied in a condescending tone. “A lady of your standing should never allow her attention to wander so aimlessly. However, you weren’t raised for this position, so I suppose you can’t be blamed for your less-than-regal behavior.”

It was always like this with her mother-in-law. Compliments that weren’t really compliments. Criticisms of every aspect of Miranda’s character. Snide remarks that she didn’t try all that hard to disguise as tidbits of motherly advice.

The woman made it no secret that she disliked Miranda, or that she believed she’d somehow tricked Benedict into marrying her. It was frustrating to know someone believed such a terrible thing about her, but Miranda didn’t know what she could possibly do to convince the Dowager otherwise. As far as the woman was concerned, the new Duchess was an upstart little gold digger who’d compromised her virtue to trap the Duke into marriage.

“I shall endeavor to do better, Lady Morgan,” Miranda reluctantly replied, hoping to appease the Dowager enough that the woman would let her be. Of course, she should have known better than to hope such a thing.

“You can try all you want, but I doubt you’ll rise up to the very high standards of your title.” The Dowager released a long, labored sigh. “To see the Sutcliffe name fall so far so quickly…it’s truly heartbreaking.”

Miranda curled her hands into fists at her sides. She didn’t deserve this. She had spent her life striving to be the very best she could be in terms of propriety and ladyship. She was very confident, under different circumstances, she would take on the mantel of Duchess with dignity and pride. To have this woman look so far down her nose at her made Miranda’s gut churn with frustration and anger.

“Lady Morgan, I’m sorry you find me such a disappointment,” Miranda hissed through her teeth, using every ounce of willpower she possessed not to completely come undone on her mother-in-law. “Unfortunately for both of us, this is the fate that we find ourselves tied to. I think it would be best, for all our sakes, that we try to make some kind of peace with it.”

The Dowager snorted. “I highly doubt that possible, My Dear. I don’t believe I can ever be at peace with this farce of a marriage. If only my poor Benedict hadn’t found himself entrapped by you, he would be able to marry someone more worthy of him.”

Miranda clenched her jaw. “Lady Morgan, I should return to my room now,” she said in a low voice. “If we continue this conversation, I do not believe either of us will leave at all happy.”

Her mother-in-law sniffed indignantly. “You are likely right, for once. It is probably for the best that we go our separate ways. Talking with you tends to drain me of all my strength.”

Miranda turned without another word. She was afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she spoke any more. Her mother-in-law didn’t appear nearly as concerned about saying something rude, however.

“You mustn’t worry too much about Benedict, Dear,” she called after Miranda. “His liaisons aren’t a personal commentary on you, I’m sure. It’s simply his nature, I’m afraid.”

Miranda nearly stumbled in her steps at the woman’s harsh words, but managed to keep herself steady and hurried on. It took a great deal of strength not to just run from the dreadful woman, but Miranda refused to sacrifice her dignity. The Dowager could take much from her, but she would never take that.

* * *

“I think I shall write to my Aunt Pam and invite her to stay.”

Rowena met Miranda’s gaze with a small, curious frown. “Oh? Any particular reason?”

The two were sitting out in the garden together, under their usual tree. Miranda had been attempting to read while Rowena worked on some embroidery when she’d made the sudden announcement.

“I find myself in need of some…motherly comfort,” Miranda replied with a shrug. “Aunt Pam is the closest option I have to that.”

Rowena gave her a sympathetic look. “Have things gotten any better for you here?”

Miranda sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I had a rather unpleasant interaction with the Dowager last night, and I haven’t seen any sign of the Duke today. It’s been…tiring, truth be told.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Rowena said. “Having your aunt to visit could do much to cheer you up. Has she still been staying with your father?”

Rowena nodded. “I believe so. They keep each other company which puts my mind at ease in many ways, I must confess.”

“Still, I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind if you stole her away for a few days.” Rowena’s eyes suddenly lit up. “You should have a dinner party!”

Miranda frowned. “A dinner party? Why in the world would I throw a dinner party?”

“It’s just the thing,” Rowena insisted. “You can have it while your aunt is here, and so have another ally, including me. It will also help to establish your position as the Duchess and Lady of the Manor.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, really. Miranda could see the merits to such a plan, as she considered it carefully. “That…that actually might be a very good thought–”

“Of course, you should invite a few other people, so that it’s not simply a family meal,” Rowena continued. “Lord Dunlop, for instance. I’m certain he would be up for such an event.”

Miranda furrowed her brow, taken aback by Rowena’s suggestion. “Lord Dunlop? What makes you name him specifically?”

Rowena gaped at her a moment before shrugging, attempting nonchalance. “Oh, well…he’s a friend of the Duke’s, which I’m sure will put your husband at ease. He’s also quite…engaging. I’m sure he’d help keep things from becoming too tense.”

Miranda regarded her friend carefully, not truly convinced by her words that that was her only interest in extending an invitation to Lord Dunlop. “Please, Rowena, do not tell me you like the man.”

Her friend’s eyes widened. “What? N…no! Of course not. Don’t be absurd. I’m just thinking of you and what will make the party successful–”

“Oh, really? Is that what you’re doing?” Miranda nearly rolled her eyes, seeing right through her friend’s flimsy façade. She decided to tease Rowena a bit. “Won’t that work against me, though? Allowing the Duke to have an ally of his own present? Apart from his mother, of course, who is a handful. I’m not so sure I need Lord Dunlop traipsing about the place, making me feel inadequate as well.”

“He would never do such a thing!” Rowena insisted vehemently. Then, as if realizing that she’d reacted a tad too much, she took a breath and continued in a calmer voice, “I’m certain Lord Dunlop would not attempt to belittle you, especially around your family and friends. He has too much chivalry within him for that.”

Miranda nearly laughed at that. “Chivalry? Rowena, My Dear, you do realize that Lord Dunlop is as much a rake as the Duke, don’t you? He is not an innocent bystander to my husband’s antics. They are often partners in their foolishness.”

Rowena frowned so hard, her mouth appeared pinched. “Whatever you are insinuating, it quite simply isn’t true. I do not like Lord Dunlop, and I do not want you to invite him for my sake…though I really do think you should.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. “You are not a good actress. You know this, yes?”

Rowena released a huff of breath and threw her hands into the air. “You are insufferable! You are free to believe whatever you will, but the notion that I like Lord Dunlop is simply ridiculous. Please tell me you will invite him to the dinner party.”

At that, Miranda released a giggle. She couldn’t remember ever seeing her friend so worked up, and it was rather entertaining to see the usually cool and collected Rowena come slightly undone. Miranda wasn’t yet sure how she felt about her friend seeking the attention of Lord Dunlop, as she felt that it would complicate things further to have the two of them involved with each other in some way.

Still, she supposed she shouldn’t hold it against Rowena. Lord Dunlop was indeed charming, if not a little stiff in his interactions with Miranda. She wondered if he kept a polite distance from her for Benedict’s sake, as if he was demonstrating his loyalty in some way. Regardless of the reason, though, so long as he wasn’t a scoundrel to Rowena, Miranda had no real reason to deny them time together.

Releasing a long sigh, she conceded. “Oh, very well. I’ll throw the blasted dinner party, and I’ll invite Lord Dunlop if that will make you happy.”

Rowena’s smile was wide. “It will, thank you. But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

“I’m sure,” Miranda teased. “You are absolutely not interested in Lord Dunlop whatsoever. I can see that.”

Rowena scowled and then released a defeated sigh. “Well…I’m not uninterested in him.”

Miranda chuckled. “You don’t say.”

Waving a hand at her dismissively, Rowena groused, “I must marry eventually, right? Not that I would necessarily marry him…but he is charming, and he doesn’t seem to mind that I’m merely the daughter of a Baron.” That was a positive, at least.

“Well, we shall see what comes of the dinner party then, won’t we?” Miranda declared with a grin.

Rowena appeared pleased, and that did make Miranda happy. She couldn’t admit to her friend some trepidation regarding the party, though. The Dowager would likely be irritated that Miranda was taking initiative in her new role, and the chances of Benedict not even showing up seemed rather high. Miranda wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle such humiliation.

“I suppose I have to ask His Grace,” Miranda murmured, remembering she had a husband to answer to. “I’m not completely sure what I’m allowed to decide on my own as Lady of the Manor. That’s not a conversation we’ve actually had.”

“Oh, I see,” Rowena replied with a nod. “Then you likely do need to check with him. Just to be safe. I can’t imagine he would say no, however.”

Miranda couldn’t imagine any reason for Benedict to refuse either, but in her short time as his wife, she had come to understand that the Duke of Morgan was anything but predictable.