Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

" L ady Samantha?" the Duke repeated once again. "Do you wish to marry me or not?"

Samantha could feel all eyes on her. She was not a fool, and she knew what they were thinking of her. It would be the same as what they had all been thinking from the start; she was an opportunist that had now gotten exactly what she wanted.

If only they knew.

Samantha so terribly wished to reject the proposal. She had no interest in being his wife, no interest in being anyone's wife, but she knew better than to invite scandal. What was more was the way her father was looking at her, almost in triumph that the Duke had done this. She had no choice.

"Yes, Your Grace," she nodded with a smile. "Truly, I thought you might never ask!"

The duplicity came almost too easily, and she hated that, but it had to be done. She could be angry with the Duke later; for now, she had to play the role of the blushing and bashful young lady who had received a proposal.

Miss Norton and Lord Nicholas seemed less than pleased for her. In fact, Samantha would have wagered that at that very moment they wanted her out of the household, out of the country for that matter, whether she were still living or not.

It made sense, all things considered, that the Duke's brother would be the one that sent her the note. He did not like her, nor did Miss Norton, and given how spiteful the two of them were, she did not put it past them to have planned this, only for the Duke to ruin everything spectacularly for them. They must have planned to ruin her reputation there then gone about their lives as if they had not destroyed the life of another because that was the sort of people that they were. The Duke certainly seemed to think that way of them.

Even so, Samantha thought, it did not give the Duke the right to ruin her life in a different way.

"Oh, Samantha!" Lady Penelope gasped, rushing to her. "You did not tell me about yourself and the Duke! That is quite all right though. Truly, I am so happy for you!"

"It simply all happened far too quickly," she noted. "I had not even noticed it myself, but His Grace certainly did."

"And he is a fortunate man that he did, to have changed your mind. It is a shame that we shall not be lonely old ladies together, but fear not! I shall do the job well enough for the both of us."

Samantha's heart ached to join Lady Penelope in her quest to be a spinster for the rest of her life, but she knew it could never have happened anyway. Her father would have seen to that long before she could achieve such a thing.

Her father came to shake the Duke's hand. Samantha wondered, as he did so, whether or not he would accidentally ruin everything by saying something out of turn. He was not a man known for his careful discussion, that much was certain.

"I had no knowledge of this, myself," he exclaimed proudly, "but of all of the gentlemen that could have taken an interest in my daughter, I am most content that it is a duke."

He was never going to help with the accusations that Samantha wished only to get ahead, it appeared.

"Yes," the Duke nodded sheepishly, "I must admit, I did not ask you beforehand, something that I most certainly should have done, but when needs must —"

"Not another word! If my daughter pleases you, then far be it from me to destroy this wonderful union."

A wonderful union. That is how her father claimed to see it, and Samantha had to admit that it likely was how he saw it. Two daughters that were duchesses. Who could possibly ask for more?

"And now," he mumbled as he took his place behind Samantha, "everything is at last in place."

He did not need to say who everything was in place for. Samantha already knew; it was the one person that had ever truly meant anything to her father, and she hated him for it, but no matter how angry she was with him, the proposal was not his fault.

"I simply cannot believe it," Lady Penelope sighed as they left for some time alone, "You never told me anything!"

"Well, Lady Penelope —"

"Penelope," she corrected her, "now that you are to be the wife of my brother's best friend, it is only right. Besides that, we are friends, are we not?"

"Of course."

"Then Penelope it is."

"Penelope," Samantha agreed slowly, "when I tell you that the feelings between the Duke and I were sudden, what I mean to say is that —"

"He is saving you from that wicked father of yours. Fear not, we are not all foolish."

"It is not exactly that."

"The Duke is a good man, Samantha, I assure you. If he saw how your father behaved around you, I do not doubt that he would have wished to rescue you. You could have refused him, though, if you truly did not feel any sort of way for him."

"Well, not exactly…"

"Nonsense! There is no shame in changing your mind, Samantha. If you love him —"

"Which I do not."

"But if you do, and simply do not wish to admit it," she smirked, "then that is quite all right. I shall allow you to keep your pride."

"I fear I have no pride left."

"You ought to. Look at it this way — you have come into a party of strangers and made yourself so well known that you shall be returning on the arm of a duke. Who else could say that?"

"My sister, almost," Samantha laughed.

"Ah, yes, my brother was telling me about that. Some young ladies do truly have all of the good fortune."

"I am certainly not fortunate," Samantha sighed before realizing what she had said. "Well, I am. I have my good health and an adoring sister, and now, I have a friend, and my sister's new family is wonderful and loving, and —"

"It is quite all right," Penelope laughed. "I know exactly what you mean. I know how you grew up, and there is no shame in it."

Samantha disagreed. It hurt knowing that she was the only one in the room that did not have staff in her household growing up and that she was the only one that had to try to run a household (with Diana's help, of course) as her father spent too much money on alcohol to be able to afford any help for them. Until a few mere months before, she had just one ball gown, and somehow, her father expected her to find a husband with it.

It did not matter that Penelope did not think it shameful. As far as Samantha was concerned, it most certainly was, especially when even though her circumstances had changed, she still had Miss Norton and Lord Nicholas Pratt looking down on her as if she were a commoner or even something awful on the bottom of their shoe.

"Excuse me, one moment," Samantha said quietly to Penelope before going towards them.

She did not know why she was doing this. It was not in her nature to be confrontational, and yet since her arrival, it was all that she knew how to be. With each passing day, she felt herself becoming more and more like her father, and she could not stand it.

"Oh, if it isn't the pauper," Miss Norton huffed "Have you come to ruin the night even further?"

"Hush, Emma," Lord Nicholas said firmly.

"No. She has made the entire party worthless, and I guarantee that it was deliberate."

"Why would I have done that?" Samantha asked, trying to trick her into confessing.

"Because you are jealous," she snarled. "You saw how content Nicholas and I are, and you could not stand it, and so you… I do not know what exactly you did, but you have tricked his brother into proposing to you. I hope that you are at last happy."

Why, Samantha wondered, did everyone expect her to be happy with this outcome? Had she not made her position on the matter clear?

"Let me be very clear," Samantha said coldly, straightening herself so she was standing tall, "I do not want your life. I do not wish to be you. I do not wish to be anyone that is even half as bitter as you. Why is it, I wonder, that everyone else in attendance is happy for me and the duke, but the two of you cannot bring yourselves to be? Is that anger all that you have ever known? Because, if so, at least you may both find some comfort in the fact that you are perfectly suited for one another."

"At least we are suited," Miss Norton spat. "You and the Duke shall only ever be miserable, and the one saving grace in all of this farce is that I shall be around to see it all."

"Emma," Lord Nicholas warned a second time.

"I am so grateful that you are this invested in my life," Samantha replied with a smile, "but I cannot say the same about you. I apologize if that is not what you were expecting, but in truth, I have to admit that I do not find you all too interesting. It is perhaps because of that that everyone here has described you in exactly the same way, and I shall leave you to assume just how that was."

Miss Norton turned scarlet.

"Now," Samantha continued, "if you do not mind, I wish to enjoy the rest of my evening without the two of you staring at me all night. It is not proper of either of you."

Samantha then walked away from the two of them, looking as though she were ten feet tall, but she felt like she might have collapsed at any second.

"That," Penelope breathed as she returned, "Was spectacular."

"They shall hate me forever now," Samantha groaned slightly, "and my father shall be furious, and the Duke —"

"Will be just as glad as I am that someone has at last told them what they look like. Believe me, you have done nothing to be ashamed of. There is only so much that a person can take before they snap, and they have nobody to blame but themselves for nobody liking them all too much."

Truly, it was almost as though Diana was right there speaking to her.

"Samantha," her father said suddenly, "come with me. I require a word with you."

"Then here is hoping that you were correct," Samantha grimaced, walking away from Penelope once more and out of the room with her father.

"I apologize, Father," she said immediately before giving him a chance to scold her. "I do not know what came over me, but I am aware that I spoke out of term, and for that I truly am sorry."

"What are you sorry for?"

Samantha blinked at him.

"For how I spoke to Miss Norton and the Duke's brother just now. That is what this is about, is it not?"

"Heavens, no. I was hoping that someone would speak to them about their behavior eventually. It is a shame that it had to be you, but you must know that it is not possible for me to be angry with you at this moment in time."

"Why not?"

Samantha's father had, after all, always been able to find a way to be furious with her, especially since she had run away. She should have been pleased, but instead, all that she could feel was fear. This was not how her father was, and she felt incredible uneasy about it.

"Samantha, you are to marry a duke! However could I be angry with you? At last, for the first time in your life, you have done something right, and far be it from me to be angry with you simply because you are using your new power over people and telling them how to act."

That was not why she had spoken with the two of them, of course, but her father was being nice to her, or at least he was expressing what he called kindness, and so she did not correct him.

But his kindness did not make her feel any better. She was angry, she was upset, and she was out of time. The day would come eventually when she would be trapped in a marriage, and she knew that, but the anticipation did not aid in her feelings at all. It was decided and certain that she would be a wife, and there was nothing that she could do about it.

"Besides," her father continued, "think of what you have done for my heir. He will arrive soon, and now that everything is prepared for him, he can arrive any day."

She had sacrificed her future for a half-brother that she did not know and would never meet.

"I have grown rather weary, Father," she said quietly. "Might you tell Lady Penelope that I have retired to my bedchambers?"

"Of course. Now, you go and sleep so that you can look your best for your new husband!"

Her new husband. Already, the thought of it made her skin crawl.