Duke of Wicked Intentions by Harriet Caves
Chapter Five
Acouple days later, Miranda stood outside her father’s closed study door. She could hear her father and Aunt Pam speaking inside, though their voices were so low that she couldn’t make out their words clearly. She didn’t have to hear them to know what they were saying, however. They were discussing the only thing that anyone in the household had been talking about since the night of Lord Henley’s ball.
Miranda’s scandal and possible ruin.
Her father had been so distressed, he’d nearly fallen physically ill. He’d confined himself to his rooms and his study, barely speaking to her the past few days. Aunt Pam was about the only person who he would let interact with him for any extended amount of time.
Miranda had spent the time anxious and uncertain. She hadn’t been able to sleep well, and she hardly had an appetite. Almost everything she did try to eat tasted like ash on her tongue. Most of her days had been spent pacing through the house, praying her father would seek her out soon so that they could talk.
At long last, the butler, Mr. Warren, had come to her while she’d been strolling distractedly through the garden and told her that her father wished to see her in his study. She was nervous, but eager to explain herself to the Earl. Miranda was certain once her father heard her side of things, he would realize that she hadn’t meant for this to happen. It wouldn’t fix things, necessarily, but if her father at least understood the situation better, perhaps he would at least be less angry with her.
Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked sharply on the door. The murmurs on the other side instantly stopped, all but confirming that her father and aunt had been talking about her. Miranda waited until she heard her father’s strained voice.
“Come in.”
She flinched, worried at his tone, but she threw her shoulders back and raised her chin, plastering on what she hoped was a pleasant smile as she opened the door and stepped into the room. Her father was sitting behind his desk and her aunt was standing next to him. Aunt Pam gave her a small, reassuring smile and an encouraging nod.
Miranda crossed the room until she stood before her father, who gazed at her with a haggard expression that made her smile falter. She waited for him to speak first, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground with him.
After several moments of stifling silence, he finally said, “Well Miranda, you’ve certainly created quite the mess, haven’t you?”
She couldn’t help but flinch again, but she tried to keep her voice steady when she replied, “Yes, I know, Papa. I was hoping to talk to you about it all, however, so that you can understand what exactly happened–”
“What happened?” he scoffed. “What happened is that you were caught in the arms of a man. And not just any man, but Lord Benedict Sutcliffe, the new Duke of Morgan!”
Duke? He’s the Duke now?
That would explain why he’d come back. She hadn’t heard of his father’s passing, though she was certain her father would have…but he hadn’t told her.
No! She needed to focus and not get distracted by what her father may or may not have told her. It didn’t matter, after all. She’d sworn not to let herself care about Benedict or what happened to him. While she might feel sympathy for him at his loss, that was a natural reaction that she would feel for anyone who had gone through such a tragedy. It had nothing to do with Benedict himself.
“Papa, please just let me explain. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I want to assure you that I had no intention of putting myself in such a position. It was entirely accidental, I swear to you.”
Her father scowled, and she realized that he didn’t believe her. That made her jaw drop.
“You expect me to believe that you simply wandered into the garden and happened to run into Lord Morgan by chance? Do you think me such a fool, Miranda?”
“Papa!” she exclaimed, hurt by his accusation that she was lying to him. “How can you say such a thing to me? You know me better than that.”
He shoved to his feet and snapped, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe, Miranda! This situation is nothing I would’ve ever expected to find us in. I have no idea what to think. This was never supposed to happen to you! Not to my daughter! You are too intelligent to allow something like to take place.”
She stared at him, stunned, unable to come up with a response. His words hurt her, and his disappointment gutted her. Yet, she couldn’t really blame him for reacting in such a manner. She had always thought herself smarter than those women who lost themselves to passion and ruined their lives as a result. She’d never have believed this fate was at all possible for her. Yet, here they were, facing down a scandal that no one would have seen coming from her.
Her father dropped his head into his hands. “How will you find a husband now? What will become of your future?”
“Papa, I never intended to get married anyway,” she said, though she wasn’t sure he would find that reassuring. “This situation doesn’t change that, but I never intended to cause so much harm to myself or our family.”
He brought his gaze up to hers, incredulous. “Never marry? Are you serious?”
She furrowed her brow. “Well…yes. I’ve told you before that that was my intent. I wish to remain single and independent. I’ve no need for a husband, just like Aunt Pam.”
Her father stretched an arm toward Aunt Pam and exclaimed, “Your aunt was married! Her husband died, leaving her with an inheritance to sustain her. What will you have to sustain you? Me and my wealth? Is that your plan?”
Miranda’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as she couldn’t think of a single response that wouldn’t make her sound like a spoiled child. Her father had to know that she didn’t want live off of him and burden him. Didn’t he?
Yet how else is a single woman meant to survive, if not thanks to the resources provided her by a man?
She shoved the thought away. No. That wasn’t going to be her fate. If she had to find a way to survive on her own, she would, but she would not give up her identify and autonomy just because it was the expected thing for her to do.
“I don’t think now is the time to discuss that specifically,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“You’re right,” her father sighed, collapsing back into his chair. “There are far more important things for us to worry about. Your reputation being of the highest priority.”
Her father looked so tired. So heartsick. Miranda hated that she’d done this to him, despite how angry his words were making her.
Aunt Pam took a step forward and spoke in a soft, even voice. “My Dear Miranda, I must implore you to remember all that your father has given and sacrificed so that you grew up with affection and attention. He has always been there for you, and now, in this moment, he needs you to be there for him. For the family. This incident does not only affect you, remember.”
Miranda glanced at her aunt, knowing she was right. Growing up without her mother had not been an easy thing, but her father had showered her with more love than she could have ever asked for, outright spoiling her when she was young. She’d lived her life knowing that she was the apple of his eye and that he would do almost anything to make her happy.
She in turn cherished her father, and not just because he was her only parent. He was kind and loving. Generous and patient. He treated her like a princess, but he treated everyone else he encountered with respect and courtesy, something that not all lords of the ton were wont to do.
Hurrying around the desk to him, Miranda dropped to her knees next to his chair and took his hand in hers.
“Papa, please, trust that what I’m telling you is true. I had no intention for any of this to happen. I didn’t even know Bene…His Grace was back in England, let alone at the ball. I went out to the garden to get some air and I stumbled upon him by pure chance.” She didn’t mention the fact that he’d been with another woman at the time. The thought sent a flare of annoyance shooting through her.
Her father turned his head to look at her. “Is that really the truth?”
She nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes it is. I swear it.”
Aunt Pam suddenly reached forward and laid a gentle hand on the Earl’s arm.
“My Lord, Miranda has never given you reason to doubt her,” she assured him. “While it is true that when we came upon them, they were…well, we all know what they were engaged in…at no point throughout the night did I see them interact even the smallest bit. His Grace arrived rather late, and Miranda was distracted by Miss Rowena as well as the various gentleman vying for her attention. I believe her to be as innocent as she claims.”
Miranda’s father gazed up at Aunt Pam as though her words were lifting some great burden off him. Miranda found it curious how familiar they seemed with each other, especially with how boldly Aunt Pam touched the Earl and offered her unsolicited advice. They’d been friends for years, of course, and Aunt Pam had been a great support to her father after her mother’s passing. This exchange, however, seemed different than the ones Miranda had witnessed before. More intimate, somehow–
Her wandering thoughts were interrupted by her father nodding at her Aunt Pam, then turning to Miranda to say, “I’m sorry. I should not have doubted you. Your aunt is right, you’ve never given me a reason to. I can understand how such…exchanges can come to pass between a man and a woman. Especially when they have such as shared history as you and His Grace.”
Miranda didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to forget all about her past with Benedict, but that was about as possible as wishing she could fly above the clouds and gaze down at the world below like a bird. Squeezing her father’s hand, she gave him a smile she hoped looked genuine.
“Things are…complicated between myself and His Grace, that much is true,” she said, though she refused to acknowledge any deeper feelings lingering between them. “But I have no interest in him now, Papa. Once this all blows over, we’ll be able to put it behind us and there will be no need to associate with His Grace again.”
Her father blinked at her then furrowed his brow, as if confused. “What do you mean, Miranda? Of course you’ll have to associate with him again.”
Now it was her turn to look confused. “What do you mean? Why?”
“Because you’ll have to marry him.”
Miranda shot to her feet and backed away from her father as though he’d burned her.
“What?” she exclaimed. “What are you talking about? I’m not going to marry him–”
“You have to, Sweetheart.” Her father’s tone was more sympathetic as he lumbered back to his feet. Moving closer to her, he put his hands on her shoulders and continued, “This is the only way to save your reputation. If you don’t marry him, even if you do not wish to marry at all, you will be ostracized from society, and that is something I cannot allow. I won’t see you made an outcast for this.”
She blinked up at him, a feeling of panic settling in her chest.
“Papa…you…you can’t be serious–”
He nodded, his expression grave. “I’m afraid I am, My Dear. I wish there was another way, but there simply isn’t. To retain your standing within the ton, you must marry the Duke.”
“But what if I don’t care about my standing?” she questioned, her voice a little bit wild in her anxiety. “What if I don’t care if I’m ostracized? I don’t need to be a part of the ton. Most of the people are nasty and two-faced anyway.”
Her father sighed and shook his head sadly. This was all clearly weighing on him so much, and she imagined it was all compounded by the fact that he likely did not wish to hurt her in any way, but felt it was an inevitable outcome.
“You know how miserable your life will be if we allow that to happen,” he told her softly. “I…I know he has a rather scandalous reputation, but I believe he is still a man with honor, and so should make you a very fine husband.”
“He won’t agree to it,” she blurted. It was her last hope of escaping this. “He values his bachelorhood too much. He won’t give up his ways and women so easily.”
Her father’s eyes widened at her blunt words, but he didn’t scold her for them. Instead, he cleared his throat and answered, “If His Grace is the man I think he truly is, he’ll do what’s right by you. He’s likely already reached that decision himself by now.”
You’re wrong. You’re so, so wrong. He won’t do it. He won’t give up that life for me.
When she didn’t respond right away, her father wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I know this is all rather difficult to take in,” he murmured into her hair. “Just know that I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Ever. Neither will your aunt.”
Aunt Pam hadn’t moved from where she stood, but she gave her niece a reassuring smile when Miranda gazed at her over her father’s shoulder. When the Earl brought the hug to an end, he held her by the shoulders at arms’ length and gazed into her eyes.
“I promise you, Sweetheart. All will be well. His Grace will fix this and do what he has to in order to protect you. I have faith in the man.”
You shouldn’t. Not after everything that’s happened between us.
As badly as Miranda wanted to say those words out loud, she bit her tongue. It wouldn’t do her any good, she could see that. Her only hope now was that Benedict wouldn’t suddenly decide to be noble and do the gentlemanly thing. She was certain he wouldn’t. He enjoyed his life of debauchery too much. Or, at least that’s what she heard.
He would never choose her over his freedom. She should take comfort in that fact.
So why was her stomach twisting as if with disappointment?
