Duke of Wicked Intentions by Harriet Caves

Chapter Seven

“My Lady, there’s a visitor here for you.”

Miranda glanced up from the book that she had been reading to find Mr. Warren standing in the library doorway.

“A visitor?” She frowned. “Who in the world would be visiting me right now?” She didn’t think it could be Rowena. Her friend had told her she had an engagement with her mother that morning.

“It is His Grace, the Duke of Morgan, My Lady,” Mr. Warren replied. “He is waiting in the drawing room for you, unless you wish for me to send him away.”

Miranda’s heart thumped painfully against her chest. Benedict had come to see her? What in the world could he want? Most likely, he wanted to discuss the night of Lord Henley’s ball, but surely to inform her that he would not be lifting a finger to help her, or something equally as terrible. For a long moment, she debated whether she should go and see him or have Mr. Warren send him away.

However, her curiosity overwhelmed her and she told Mr. Warren, “I will see him, thank you. Please send one of the maids there ahead of me to act as chaperone.”

The butler bowed to her and turning, left to fulfill her request. Closing her book and putting it to the side, Miranda let out a deep breath. Her heart began beating at a quick tempo, as if she were nervous. That was absurd, though. She wasn’t nervous to see Benedict.

In fact, I am relieved to clear this whole messy situation up so that we may part ways and not see each other again for as long as possible.

With a sigh, she decided she had better get the meeting over with. She stood and made her way out of the library. She kept her steps steady and even as she walked to the front drawing room. She didn’t want him to hear her and think she was either over eager to see him, or afraid of meeting him again.

When she reached the doorway to the drawing room, she paused a moment just to gather her thoughts before crossing the threshold. She spotted him immediately. He was standing by one of the windows overlooking the front of the property, his legs apart in a powerful stance and his hands clasped behind his back. The sun streamed through the glass and seemed to caress him like a lover.

He was far too handsome for his own good. It was distracting, and what was worse, Miranda had a feeling that he knew exactly how appealing he looked and wasn’t above using it to his advantage. Benedict hadn’t noticed her walk into the room. She cleared her throat loudly to catch his attention. He jerked his gaze to her, eyes widening slightly at the sight of her.

She dipped into a shallow curtsy. “Your Grace, good day.”

He arched a brow. “That’s a rather formal greeting.”

“Well, I’m in the presence of a Duke, after all,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Formality feels rather necessary.”

“Ah, I see,” he said with a nod. “A bit angry with me that I didn’t tell you about my new status?”

Miranda rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t care if you’re a Duke, though…I am sorry about your father. Such a loss is not an easy thing to bear.”

He glanced away from her and shrugged. “Yes, well…it has been difficult for the family. The adjustment has been a bit rocky.”

Miranda frowned. His tone was cool and formal. His words more concerned with the stability of the Dukedom than his own grief. Was he even sad that his father was dead? Miranda remembered that their relationship hadn’t been particularly warm as he’d grown up. The old Duke had been determined to instill discipline and responsibility into his son, but in doing so, hadn’t been all that willing to show the boy affection or care.

She felt a swelling of sympathy, but she pushed it back. Little good it would likely do with their current situation, as she doubted he would react positively to any extensive acknowledgment of his loss.

“Well, I’m sorry all the same,” she said before crossing the room to get closer to him. “I suppose you and I should have a discussion.”

He inclined his head. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

Miranda took a seat on a settee near the marble fireplace and invited him to sit across from her in a cushioned chair. He took it and for a moment, they just stared at each other.

At length, Benedict began, “There’s a simple solution to our current situation–”

“Your Grace,” she interrupted him, raising her hand, “I know what you’re going to say, but I have to be honest and say that I am not interested in this plan whatsoever.”

Benedict frowned at her. “You aren’t interested? Even when it will save your reputation?”

Miranda sighed. “I understand why our…union is necessary, believe me. I’ve had time to think it over and I recognize that it’s not just about me. I had never planned to marry, but with the scandal hanging over our heads, I’m afraid that I likely have no choice.”

“You never planned on getting married?” He seemed genuinely baffled by that, which Miranda wasn’t surprised about. She doubted there were many ladies in the ton who were as averse to the idea of marriage as she was. Her desires were far from the norm, and she recognized that they were somewhat risky as a woman, for just as her father had pointed out, she could be left vulnerable without a husband to provide for her…which she found exceedingly irritating.

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

“I see.” He appeared thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Well, I’m glad you’ve seen reason in this instance. It’s not what I would have wanted for myself either, but I really see no other way out of this mess.”

Miranda clenched her hands in her lap. “I’m glad we agree on that, at least.”

Benedict nodded. “We should then discuss the arrangement of our marriage.”

Miranda took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she replied, “All right. What did you have in mind for this…marriage?”

He scratched at his chin as he answered, “This will be a marriage in name alone. It is for the purpose of protecting your reputation and saving our families from shame. I know that we have few warm feelings for each other, if any at all, and that this isn’t an ideal situation for either of us. So, I won’t expect us to act like a true husband and wife in private.”

“So…it will all be for show?” Miranda murmured.

He nodded, his expression strangely calm as he delivered his plan. “Yes, essentially. I believe that this will be a mutually beneficial arrangement. You can maintain your independence in private at least, and I can continue living my life as I see fit, though I will promise greater discretion so as not to shame you in any way.”

It took her a moment to realize fully what exactly he meant by his promise not to shame her in any way.

“Oh,” she started when realization hit. “You…you mean you will continue to–” Her cheeks heated as she tried to think of a delicate way to put it. “You will continue to enjoy the company of other women.”

Benedict nodded, not even blinking at her words.

“Yes, that is it exactly,” he told her.

It struck her that he was so willing to continue to seek out other women…but not her. She was oddly hurt by that fact.

Does he not see me as a woman? Does he not want me as one?

She knew she shouldn’t care. This was as ideal of an arrangement as she could’ve hoped for. She didn’t want to be with him, really. She didn’t want to be married. So, if she had to be married to him, it was for the best that they weren’t together in truth.

Yet, that sting of his rejection still lingered. She couldn’t seem to shake it, no matter how hard she tried. Why didn’t he want her? Was she really so undesirable? Miranda had to force her focus back onto Benedict and out of her own head. It wasn’t going to do her any good to dwell on her bruised ego. This was the best possible outcome she could hope for, and she needed to recognize that.

“Very well,” she croaked, then cleared her throat before continuing. “What does the Dowager Duchess think of this union?”

He couldn’t hide his immediate flinch, and that was all the answer that Miranda needed even before he said anything.

“She isn’t…thrilled,” he said, clearly hedging his answer. “However, it really doesn’t matter if she approves or not. I am the Duke, and this is my decision.”

“I see.” So, not only would she enter a loveless marriage out of necessity, she would likely not be well received by the Dowager. Wonderful.

“So, I will meet with your father and officially ask for your hand,” he stated, as if they were discussing something as mundane as the weekly menu of the household rather than their future marriage. “Will I find any resistance on his part?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, you won’t. My father also believes this is the best path forward.”

“Good. The sooner we can get this settled, the better it will be for the both of us. We’ll plan for the wedding to take place in haste.”

Miranda felt a wave of disappointment, which she thought was silly. Since she’d never intended to marry to begin with, she shouldn’t feel cheated at the lack of fanfare or intention behind the ceremony itself. She did feel that way, however. She felt sad that this was the path that her life was forcing her down. Gazing at Benedict, she wondered what exactly what he was thinking. No doubt, he was disappointed by this turn of events as well. There was a certain kind of irony that he was forced to be shackled to her when he ran to Europe to escape such a fate in the first place.

He was watching her, no doubt waiting for some sort of response to his declaration of a hasty wedding. At length, she managed to nod her head and say, “I agree. The sooner this is settled, the better.”

As the two gazed at each other, it began to settle into Miranda’s mind that she was staring into the face of her future. A man she never thought she’d see again. A man who had once stolen her heart, and gave it back to her in pieces.

Who would suffer more from this union? He clearly didn’t want her, and she was determined not to want him in turn.

I understand that this marriage with save our families from shame, and protect my reputation…but will the price we pay really be worth it, I wonder?