Page 44 of Road Trip With a Rogue (Her Majesty’s Rebels #3)
As desperate as she was to go straight back to Wansford House to tell Tess and Ellie about the party, or to the sanctuary of her office at King & Co., Daisy instructed the carriage driver to take her to Dalkeith House.
The hope that her father would be absent from town, hosting one of his infamously rowdy parties at Hollyfield, their country estate, or attending something similar elsewhere, was dashed when she entered the back hallway and tried to sneak up the stairs to her bedroom unobserved.
“Dorothea!”
Dalkeith’s carrying tones stopped her in her tracks on the first stair, and she cursed at the way he always made her feel like a naughty child caught in some scrape, as opposed to an intelligent, self-sufficient woman of twenty-three.
She straightened her spine and headed toward her father’s study, and her spirits dropped further when she saw him seated behind the huge mahogany desk, a position he always adopted when he wished to make one of his children feel inferior.
“Hello, Father.” She took the mahogany chair on the opposite side, the one that had been deliberately chosen because it was so uncomfortable.
The Duke of Dalkeith was not an unattractive man. A few years over sixty, he kept himself in shape with regular hunting and riding, but his penchant for drink and general debauchery showed in the slightly florid tint to his cheeks and the bags beneath his pale gray eyes.
“I returned from a visit with Lord Ashford in Kent yesterday, and when I went to my club for dinner, I heard a series of interesting rumors.”
Daisy kept her face completely impassive. “Oh, really?”
“Rumors concerning you , Dorothea, and the Duke of Cranford.”
She raised her brows and tried to look surprised. “Hmm?”
Dalkeith tapped his fingers on a pile of papers stacked on the leather desktop. “Rumors of an elopement. A clandestine engagement. Or even a secret marriage conducted at Gretna Green. Would you care to explain?”
Daisy’s throat felt tight as she swallowed. “I didn’t elope. And I’m neither engaged nor married to—”
Dalkeith shook his head. “Rumors are rarely unfounded. I don’t know what you’ve been up to, and quite frankly, I don’t care.
I’ve never meddled in your affairs before now, because unlike your brothers, you’ve generally been discreet.
But now you’ve been in discreet, and I will not have you bringing this family into disrepute. ”
Daisy’s temper surged at his hypocrisy. “That’s not—”
He wasn’t listening. A sneer curved his lips. “You’re just like your mother, after all. Ruled by your passions. She ‘followed her heart’ too.” His tone was scathing.
Daisy ground her teeth, willing herself not to leap to her mother’s defense, nor point out his own shortcomings that had contributed to the decision.
For all his sins, Dalkeith had still provided her with a roof over her head, food in her belly, an education, and countless other necessities.
He’d claimed her as his legitimate daughter, and she’d benefited from that deception for her entire life.
But the fact that a woman’s behavior was judged a hundred times more harshly than a man’s was bitterly unfair.
“That’s not how it is. I’m not in love with—”
“I can only be grateful that you ran off with a duke, instead of a chimneysweep. Or a fencing master.” Dalkeith continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Cranford will make you an excellent husband. Better than I’d ever dared to dream for you, if I’m honest. You will marry him as soon as can be arranged. ”
Daisy’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I—”
“He’s willing. I received his letter this morning.”
Her head was spinning. Letter? When had Lucien written a letter? Had he sent it from Carisbrooke Hall? From Wansford?
It didn’t matter.
“And what if I don’t want to marry him?” she managed.
“Your wishes are of no consequence. It’s too late for regrets. If you merely meant to have an affair with him, you should have been more careful. Now that you’ve been compromised, nothing less than marriage will do.”
His pale eyes roved over her face. “Is there a chance you might be with child?”
Daisy choked back a mortified groan. “No.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose. There’ll be enough talk, without the next Vaughan making an appearance in less than nine months. I don’t suppose you did this on purpose? Started the rumors yourself, to force his hand?”
Angry heat warmed her cheeks. “Of course not! I would never do something so calculating, just to trap a man into marriage.”
“You wouldn’t be the first woman to do so.” Dalkeith shrugged cynically. “Still, you should be grateful that Cranford’s coming up to scratch. He said he’d apply to the Archbishop of Canterbury for a special license. You will marry as soon as it is granted.”
Daisy’s heart felt as though it would punch its way through her ribs.
Dalkeith continued, unaware of her inner turmoil. “In the meantime, you will silence the worst of the rumors by confirming your engagement as soon as possible. And when you are wed, an announcement in The Times .”
He tapped his knuckles on the desk to signal an end to the discussion. “I’ll discuss your marriage portion with Cranford at his leisure. You may go now, Dorothea.”
Daisy stood and made her way back out to the corridor on trembling legs. She ascended the stairs, and it was only when she reached the privacy of her bedroom that she allowed her emotions full rein. She threw herself down on her mattress and screamed her frustration into her pillow.
A special license? The presumption of the man! She hadn’t agreed to marry him yet.
Daisy hated the sensation of being trapped, of not being mistress of her own destiny. And yet being married to Vaughan was something she desired with her whole heart.
If only his urgency was due to passion, instead of regrettable necessity.
She took a deep breath. Fine. She might not have had any control over the way she’d ended up in this position, but she could control what happened from this point on.
She would marry him. And she’d take Tess and Ellie’s advice, and use every weapon in her arsenal to make Lucien the most loving, most faithful husband in England.
It would be her greatest challenge yet.