Page 5
Story: His Duchess' Mischief
Alicia only realized she was standing motionless in the center of the dance floor when a man and woman brushed her aside.
Swiftly, she stepped away, her eyes scanning the crowd for her father.
She felt dizzy, bile rising in her throat with every second that passed. Surely, the Duke was mistaken. Was it some kind of sick jest?
Alicia had been at the ball for no more than half an hour, and her father had already promised her to someone.
This is absurd! Preposterous! I shall tell him so the moment I find him.
As she looked toward a group of laughing gentlemen across the room, cigar smoke rising all around their heads, she finally saw her father speaking to a man.
There was a large plant beside him, next to a beautiful urn filled with white roses. They perfectly matched the grey at his temples as he laughed with whoever he was speaking to.
Perhaps another prospect, should the Duke change his mind.
She stormed through the crowd, careless of propriety as she elbowed and shoved her way through the bodies around her. There were several exclamations and curses as she did so, but she did not care.
As she reached her father, the tall gentleman he was speaking to was already moving away.
As soon as the Earl saw her, his expression soured.
“Papa, tell me this is not true,” Alicia hissed.
For a moment, her father looked unsure, as though he might feel a shred of sympathy for the tears that were pooling in her eyes. But then his face smoothed into a blank expression as he looked down at her coldly.
“Decorum, Alicia. Do not embarrass yourself.”
“Tell me it’s not true,” she commanded, careless of how loud her voice was.
Her father gripped her upper arm and pulled her back behind the urn, away from the many curious glances they were attracting.
“What are you speaking of?” he asked, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
“I have just been dragged to the dance floor by a giant who has proclaimed that I am soon to be his Duchess. Tell me that you have not acted on your threats when I specifically asked you to give me more time.”
“You have had ample time, Alicia. The fact that you have been dragging your feet and refusing to choose a husband is not my concern. I have done what I needed to secure your future, and I have made an alliance with one of the richest men of the ton. You should be grateful.”
“We have not even been introduced!”
“There will be time enough for that. You will be wed in a week. I warned you, girl. Do not blame me foryourdallying.”
Alicia wanted to scream, to bellow at the top of her lungs. She had never felt so powerless, so hamstrung by her sex.
Her father watched her impassively as he sipped at his wine, before turning to face the room. He was done with her, with their conversation, and there was no further room for protest.
With a growl of fury, she forced her way back through the crowd.
Fighting tears, she ran out of the room, through the wide doors, and out onto the terrace.
The cool night air stung her cheeks where the tears fell. Her feet tripped over a loose slab of stone as she continued down the steps, feeling the soft blades of the grass beneath her feet as she reached the lawn.
Coming to a halt, she covered her face with her hands, trying to compose herself.
All her life, she had believed that she would find love, that somehow, she would defy the odds and meet a man worthy of her spirit and zest for life.
But now she had been tied to someone who, by all accounts, had no feelings for her.
The expression on the Duke’s face had not changed throughout their dance. The only hint of emotion she had seen from him was a smirk when he had told her of her fate.
Swiftly, she stepped away, her eyes scanning the crowd for her father.
She felt dizzy, bile rising in her throat with every second that passed. Surely, the Duke was mistaken. Was it some kind of sick jest?
Alicia had been at the ball for no more than half an hour, and her father had already promised her to someone.
This is absurd! Preposterous! I shall tell him so the moment I find him.
As she looked toward a group of laughing gentlemen across the room, cigar smoke rising all around their heads, she finally saw her father speaking to a man.
There was a large plant beside him, next to a beautiful urn filled with white roses. They perfectly matched the grey at his temples as he laughed with whoever he was speaking to.
Perhaps another prospect, should the Duke change his mind.
She stormed through the crowd, careless of propriety as she elbowed and shoved her way through the bodies around her. There were several exclamations and curses as she did so, but she did not care.
As she reached her father, the tall gentleman he was speaking to was already moving away.
As soon as the Earl saw her, his expression soured.
“Papa, tell me this is not true,” Alicia hissed.
For a moment, her father looked unsure, as though he might feel a shred of sympathy for the tears that were pooling in her eyes. But then his face smoothed into a blank expression as he looked down at her coldly.
“Decorum, Alicia. Do not embarrass yourself.”
“Tell me it’s not true,” she commanded, careless of how loud her voice was.
Her father gripped her upper arm and pulled her back behind the urn, away from the many curious glances they were attracting.
“What are you speaking of?” he asked, sipping his drink nonchalantly.
“I have just been dragged to the dance floor by a giant who has proclaimed that I am soon to be his Duchess. Tell me that you have not acted on your threats when I specifically asked you to give me more time.”
“You have had ample time, Alicia. The fact that you have been dragging your feet and refusing to choose a husband is not my concern. I have done what I needed to secure your future, and I have made an alliance with one of the richest men of the ton. You should be grateful.”
“We have not even been introduced!”
“There will be time enough for that. You will be wed in a week. I warned you, girl. Do not blame me foryourdallying.”
Alicia wanted to scream, to bellow at the top of her lungs. She had never felt so powerless, so hamstrung by her sex.
Her father watched her impassively as he sipped at his wine, before turning to face the room. He was done with her, with their conversation, and there was no further room for protest.
With a growl of fury, she forced her way back through the crowd.
Fighting tears, she ran out of the room, through the wide doors, and out onto the terrace.
The cool night air stung her cheeks where the tears fell. Her feet tripped over a loose slab of stone as she continued down the steps, feeling the soft blades of the grass beneath her feet as she reached the lawn.
Coming to a halt, she covered her face with her hands, trying to compose herself.
All her life, she had believed that she would find love, that somehow, she would defy the odds and meet a man worthy of her spirit and zest for life.
But now she had been tied to someone who, by all accounts, had no feelings for her.
The expression on the Duke’s face had not changed throughout their dance. The only hint of emotion she had seen from him was a smirk when he had told her of her fate.
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