Page 7 of His Duchess' Mischief

She looked up at the twinkling stars, the enormous sky stretching forever above her head. Her teeth clenched, her fingers curling into fists.

Perhaps Papa has decided on my future without me. But that does not mean I cannot fight it with everything I have.

The following morning, she woke up to a great hubbub about the house. As her maid dressed her, she listened to the housekeeper’s shrill commands outside, the butler’s rumbling voice as he loped along the corridor.

Everyone was in a flurry of activity, and as she descended the stairs to the hallway, she could see boxes being delivered to the front door in dozens. When she asked the housekeeper about them, the woman gave her a strange look and then simply told her they werefor the wedding.

Alicia swallowed past the lump in her throat, staring at the multitude of items that had arrived—too many to count.

She did not know what to do with herself, fidgeting in place, wishing she could set every one of them ablaze.

Standing in the hallway, she was almost bowled over by two footmen carrying an enormous mirror into one of the parlors, and she made a hasty retreat to the breakfast room.

There, she found her father reading the paper and chewing on a bit of toast as if it were any other ordinary morning. There was butter on his stubbled jaw, and his hair was unkempt and in need of some pomade.

She took a seat beside him, but he did not greet her.

The ride back from the ball had been tense and charged with anger, and she had no interest in speaking with him when all he would want to discuss was the wedding.

A folded piece of paper landed on her plate as she was about to pile it with scrambled eggs.

“St James’s, I think. That is where your mother and I were wed.”

Alicia blinked at him, picking up the paper and unfolding it to find a list of names, most of whom she did not recognize.

“What is this?”

“The guest list. Read through it quickly and tell me if there is anyone else I should invite.”

Alicia’s fingers began to tremble as she heard the front door open and close again with yet more deliveries. She could hear the servants shuffling about with packages and boxes outside the door.

How did he have time to arrange all of this? It has been mere hours since the agreement with the Duke was made.

Her gut clenched as she realized her father must have been planning this for weeks. He might not have knownwhoshe would marry, but he had been organizing it for many months.

He cannot wait to be rid of me.

She did not even review the list, not caring who would be there. If someone important to her were to miss it, then all the better—she wished she could miss it herself.

Handing it back, her father plucked it, still chewing loudly on his toast as he placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

“You will have your mother’s ring. Jane’s fingers were too big for it, but I do not want it moldering in a box in my room forevermore. Your hands are as slender as Anna’s were. It will do.”

Alicia said nothing, pouring herself some tea and staring at the empty plate in front of her, her appetite gone.

She could not speak as her father continued discussing the arrangements. Apparently, her groom had obtained a special license, and the wedding would indeed take place in one week.

The Earl spoke of the family members who would be in attendance and how important it was that everything ran smoothly. He spoke of the Duke and his wealth and reputation—that he was a hard man, but that she would be making a great alliance.

Alicia sipped her tea, feeling numb.

Eventually, the Earl finished his breakfast, dabbing at his chin and smearing the butter further down his neck as he rose.

“You are still sulking, I see. I do not need your opinion to arrange this wedding, but if you wish to have a say in the matter, then speak now.”

She said nothing.

The Earl scowled in irritation and threw his napkin on his plate, pushing his chair back.

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