Page 2 of Her Duke to Seduce: Lady Be Wicked (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #20)

One

F elicity strolled into the library at her father’s estate. She loved books—had always loved books. They held far more appeal than most things offered in society. She had no desire to attend a ball, a soirée, or even something so mundane as a picnic. People always disappointed her, and she did not believe that would change. Books, however, were a comfort, and one she often returned to.

She ran her fingers over the leather-bound tomes and smiled. Felicity closed her eyes and inhaled, breathing in the familiar scent of parchment, ink, and aged leather. Yes, this was where she went to ease any discomfort. It was like coming home and being wrapped in warmth.

Winter was about to come to an end, and spring was on the horizon. The warmer months would arrive soon enough, and she could enjoy reading in the gardens. But for now, she would have to be content in the library, a fire crackling in the hearth. She stared at the shelves. But what book should she choose? There were so many wonderful stories, histories, and biographies. Did she want something to study or something to become lost in?

Well, who was she fooling? It did not matter the topic—she would always become lost within the pages of any book she held in her hands. That was how she found peace, after all. She loved learning.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, then reached toward the shelf and plucked a tome at random. It did not matter what she would find within its pages. There was no book she found distasteful. All topics held merit and deserved to be read. If one hoped to have a proper education, everything should be considered, and she had read a great many books in her years—even during the summer she had spent at Winston Manor with her Aunt Enid ten years earlier.

She had to be sneaky then, for her aunt had singular ideas about what a young lady ought to learn. Still, Felicity had managed to steal time for her books. She had gained a great deal of knowledge that summer. She had learned to dance, to use watercolors, and even a bit of cross-stitching. She had not exactly hated any of it, but neither had she loved it. She was passable at watercolors and abysmal at cross-stitching.

Dancing, however—she had discovered quite the aptitude for it, much to her aunt’s delight. Aunt Enid had claimed that through dancing, she would win a gentleman’s heart. Felicity had merely rolled her eyes. As if dancing could solve any dilemma.

“Lady Felicity.”

She turned and smiled at the butler in the entry way to the library. His silver-streaked dark hair was trimmed neatly. Wrinkles had begun to form at the corners of his soft blue eyes, and that stern expression had become a fixture Felicity had come to expect. “Hello, Bivens,” she said. “What is it?”

“Your father wishes for you to attend him in his study,” he said.

“Now?” she asked. That was unusual for her father. He never summoned her. There was no reason to. She never left the estate, and they saw each other at meals. She understood that her father, as the Earl of Sheffield, was busy. He had a lot to oversee in the earldom.

“Yes, my lady,” Bivens answered. “He said it is most urgent.”

She frowned. “I suppose I should make haste then.” She handed him the book she had been about to read. She never had determined what it was about. “Can you put this away for me?”

“Of course, my lady,” he said. Bivens took the book and bowed. “It will be my pleasure.”

Felicity strolled out of the library and headed toward her father’s study. Her heart beat rapidly inside of her chest. What reason could her father have had for summoning her to his study? She had a feeling it would not be for something pleasant. The last time they had a meeting like this one… She stopped short. Good heavens surely it could not be for the same reason? Aunt Enid had always wanted her to learn how to be a lady. She had been sent to Winston Manor for instruction. Surely, Aunt Enid would not want to do anything like that again?

There was only one way to find out. She marched forward and stopped outside of her father’s study. Felicity lifted her hand and rapped against the wood frame. “Father,” she called out. “You wished to see me?”

“Yes, dear,” he said. “Come in.”

She went inside and stopped in front of her father’s large mahogany desk. His hair had gone all gray in the past few years. Strain filled his eyes as he met her gaze. His eyes were so like hers. It was one of the few traits she had inherited from him. She had overheard them as described as a stormy gray. Like dark clouds hovering on the horizon.

“Please have a seat, dear,” he said.

She had not realized that she had stood there like a ninny, staring at him for several moments. Felicity had been so lost in her own thoughts she had not spoken or done anything. “What is it?” she asked. She was uncertain about sitting until she knew why he had called for her. Felicity had an uneasy feeling she could not shake.

“Sit, Felicity,” he demanded.

“I do not wish to,” she told him.

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “This is not the time to be difficult.”

“Is it ever a good time to be difficult?” she retorted.

“There is always a time and place for everything,” he replied sagely. “We have much to discuss and you will find it more comfortable if you are seated while we do so.”

That feeling of dread returned. Felicity sat. Not because he asked her to, but because her legs suddenly seemed weak. She would not like any of this. She knew it without him uttering a word. “Now will you tell me what you summoned me for?”

“I am sending you to Winston Manor,” he said.

“No,” she said vehemently. “I do not want to go there.”

“Be that as it may,” her father said. “You are going. Your aunt has arranged for a house party. You are going to have a debut ball at the end of it and then you both will go to London for the season. It is time that you entered society properly.”

It was the last thing she wanted. “You promised me that I would not have to do that.”

He sighed. “I know what I promised.” He leaned back into his chair. “But I was being selfish. I did not want you to leave me, but you deserve more than to be at my side. You should find a husband and have a family of your own.” He smiled softly. “I would not mind having a grandchild or two either.”

Felicity wanted to scream and rail against it all. She did not want a husband, and she doubted she wanted any children either. What would she do with a child? She knew nothing about children and raising them. She certainly did not wish to tie herself to a man. In all her years that had not changed. “Does it not matter at all what my wishes are?”

“Of course it does,” her father said. “I do want you to be happy.”

“Then do not make me go to Winston Manor.” This had to be Aunt Enid’s doing. She had always believed she knew what was best for Felicity. Thank heavens she had only been subjected to one summer in her aunt’s care. Unfortunately, it looked as if she would have another time where she had to endure her aunt’s ideals.

“One season,” he said. “I want you to experience society and see what else there is in life.”

She jutted her chin out. “I do not need to do any of that.”

“Well,” he said. “You are going. My word is final.” He shook his head and drew in a deep breath.

She wanted to scream and throw a tantrum like a child. Why did life have to be so difficult. Her aunt would not allow her to roam the library and take comfort in books. She would want her to do all those lady-like activities she had insisted she learn all those years ago. “What if I do not find a husband.”

“That is a topic we will discuss later.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I fully expect you to take part in everything that your aunt has planned. You will do your best to become acquainted with all the gentlemen she presents to you. If I find that you are not behaving as a lady should, I will be forced to take drastic actions.”

Her adoring father had never spoken to her in such a manner. What did he mean about drastic actions? She nearly snorted. As if her father would ever hurt her. “I do not wish to marry.”

“You may change your mind.”

That was unlikely. She would have to do something to convince the ton she was unmarriageable. Perhaps she would find a way to ruin herself. What would a lady have to do to accomplish such a feat? Would she be willing to take things down a path she might not be able to undo? Would she allow herself to be seduced just to court ruination? Felicity might do just about anything to avoid marriage. But she would not go so far as to trap a gentleman. If she wanted to be seduced it would have to be with a man that would never ask for her hand. It had to be a rake who did not believe in marriage any more than she did.

Felicity’s mind spun as she sat stiffly in the chair, her father’s words reverberating in her head. A season. A house party. A debut ball.

She felt trapped, as if the walls of the study were closing in on her, hemming her into a fate she had never desired. It was not enough that she had dutifully played the role of an obedient daughter, that she had never caused him scandal, that she had accepted her life as it was. Now, she was to be paraded before society like a prize and—if her father and aunt had their way—married off to some insipid gentleman who cared only for her dowry.

The very idea made her stomach turn.

“I see little point in this,” she said at last, struggling to keep the bitterness from her voice. “You know well that I am not suited for the marriage mart, nor do I desire to be.”

Her father’s gaze softened, but his tone remained firm. “You are young, Felicity. You may think you know what you want now, but life has a way of surprising us.” He exhaled heavily, as though bracing himself. “I will not be here forever, my dear. I need to know that you are settled, that you have someone to care for you should anything happen to me.”

A pang of guilt pricked at her heart. She did love her father, even if she did not always understand him. He had been everything to her since her mother’s passing, and she knew, in his own way, he only wished to see her secure.

But marriage was not the solution.

“I do not need someone to care for me,” she countered. “I am quite capable of managing on my own.”

He arched a brow. “And what do you propose to do? Remain unwed and buried in your books for the rest of your days?”

Her lips parted, but she had no answer. It was precisely what she had intended, but hearing it spoken aloud—voiced with such exasperation—made it sound ridiculous. Society would never accept an unmarried woman without purpose. Eventually, she would be seen as a burden, an oddity, something to be pitied. “I will find another way,” she said stubbornly. “There must be some alternative to this .”

“There is none,” he said simply. “Your aunt has already begun the arrangements. You are expected at Winston Manor in a sennight.”

Felicity inhaled sharply. A sennight. She had no time to prepare, no time to formulate a plan of escape. “I see,” she said at last, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “Then I suppose I must make the best of it.”

Her father’s brows drew together in suspicion. “That is… an unexpected response.”

She managed a small smile. “Would you rather I throw a tantrum?”

“No,” he admitted, eyeing her warily. “But I know you, Felicity. I know that acquiescence does not come so easily to you.”

“I simply recognize the futility of arguing.” She shrugged. “You have made your decision, and I must abide by it.” For now. She had many plans to make. There was no way she would willingly allow herself to be married off to some insipid gentleman.

Her father studied her for a long moment, as if trying to decipher her thoughts. Finally, he nodded. “Good. I am pleased to hear it.”

She rose from the chair, smoothing her skirts. “Is there anything else, Father?”

He hesitated before shaking his head. “No, that will be all.”

Felicity curtsied with impeccable grace and turned toward the door. She felt his gaze on her as she left, but she did not falter. Not until she reached the hallway, where she pressed a hand to her stomach, steadying herself. She would go to Winston Manor. She would attend the house party. She would suffer through the debut ball. But she would not marry.

If her father and aunt expected her to become a proper young lady and obediently secure a match, they would soon learn how very mistaken they were. Felicity Hathaway had no intention of submitting to society’s expectations. No, she would do something far more scandalous. She would ensure that no respectable gentleman would dare to offer for her.

And if that meant finding a rake—a true libertine—to assist her in her ruination, then so be it. A slow, mischievous smile curved her lips. Yes, she would play their game. But she would play it her way.