Page 3 of Betting on a Duke
Chapter Two
Clarice remained silentuntil their carriage pulled away from Stanton Hall and onto the long road that would take them to one of her father’s properties several miles away. When she was born, her father had purchased the property so he and his best friend, the Duke of Stanton, could raise their children together. The duchess had given birth to two sons, Samuel being the second born.
“Why are we leaving? I thought we were staying for dinner.” The disgusted look her father gave her chilled her to the bone. What was worse was that her mother still wept into her handkerchief. “Please tell me what is wrong.” As she waited for either of her parents to speak, her head began to pound and her stomach ached. Had they found out about what she and Samuel had done down by the lake? But if they had, why would they be upset? She and Samuel were always supposed to marry. And if her parents had somehow found out, wouldn’t they be back at Stanton Hall preparing for a wedding?
“I’ll...” her mother began between sobs, “I’ll let your father explain. Since it’s his doing.”
She had never seen her father give her mother such a hateful look, causing the ache in her stomach to intensify. “Please tell me. I’m going out of my mind with worry.”
“I’ve decided not to negotiate a marriage contract with Lord Samuel Radcliff.” Her father stated it matter-of-factly, as if it meantnothing. When it meant everything to her.
She swallowed the tears clogging her throat, hoping she could speak. “But why? Samuel proposed today, and I said yes. It is what we both want.”
“It is no longer what I want for you. Don’t talk to me about it again. In fact,” he glared at her, making her whole body tremble. “Don’t mention the Stanton or Radcliff names ever again. Those people mean nothing to me. Things have changed, and you will marry whomever I choose. Now, be quiet and don’t bother me again.”
Tears, which she hated to let her father bear witness to, slid down her cheeks as she fought to hold back the sobs that yearned to escape. What had happened behind the duke’s closed study doors? How could the duke, her father, or both play with her and Samuel’s lives as if their feelings didn’t matter? She loved him. Would always love him. The first chance she got, she would write Samuel and suggest they ride like the wind to Gretna Green.
When they reached their modest estate, Clarice said nothing to either of her parents as she hurried up two flights of stairs to her chambers. Fortunately, it was on the opposite end of the corridor from her parents. She couldn’t bear to see their faces or hear their voices. In just one day, she had made love with Samuel, and afterward, they’d planned their future together. Then, without warning, her father had shattered her life by taking the man she loved away from her. What truly froze her inside was wondering what her father had in store for her.
Her maid, Mrs. Shelley, an older widow whom she adored, hurried in after her. “I didn’t expect you until later, my lady.”
“I know. We left early. Could you send up a dinner tray and some fresh hot water for washing? After you do, you may retire for the evening.”
She bobbed her head. “Yes, my lady.”
While Clarice waited for Mrs. Shelley to return, she stood at awindow staring out into the gardens beyond. All the plants and flowers were blurry because of her continuous stream of tears. She had a terrible foreboding that her life was about to take a terrible turn, and there wasn’t anything she could do to save herself.
*
Leaving his motheralone in the drawing room once Clarice and the countess left, Samuel stormed down the hall to his father’s study. Seeing the door was shut, he knocked and, without waiting for a response, pushed it open to find his father sitting at his desk, gazing thoughtfully into a glass of amber liquid. “Father, would you please tell me what just happened with Portsmouth?”
His father looked up with sad eyes and murmured, “Pour yourself a drink and have a seat.”
Samuel wasn’t sure he wanted a drink, but he poured himself one anyway and then sat down in a comfortable wingback chair. “Well?”
“It appears Portsmouth is in serious debt because of a poor investment. He has no dowry for Clarice.” His father downed his glass of brandy and clanked the glass on the wooden surface as he set it down. “Her dowry means nothing to me or to you. A marriage contract could have been signed without it.”
Taking a big gulp from his drink in the hope of calming his nerves, Samuel asked, “And why didn’t you?”
“Because the blackguard wants Lady Clarice’s intended to pay him a large sum to marry his daughter, with monthly stipends paid to Portsmouth as long as he, the countess, or the husband-to-be is alive.”
Swallowing down his shock and ignoring the pounding of his heart and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Samuel croaked out, “What the bloody hell?”
“Exactly,” his father agreed. “Basically, he is selling his daughter to the highest bidder as if she is being auctioned off at Tattersall’s. It’simmoral, degrading, and downright repulsive.”
“I proposed to Clarice today and she said yes.” Was it really less than two hours ago that he’d held her in his arms after making love to her and proposing?
“I’m sorry, son. I would have bought Lady Clarice for you, but the amount he asked for, along with the substantial payments expected in the coming years, was more than you could afford. I couldn’t, in good conscience, use funds that belong to the dukedom and your brother, Alexander.”
“I understand. Is there anything I can do?”
“You could always rescue her and head to Gretna Green.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Some of the tension inside him eased. It wouldn’t be truly gone until she was his wife, and there was nothing her father could do to rectify it.
“But be careful, my son. I don’t trust Portsmouth. He’s desperate, and desperate men will do anything.”
“I will take care. I’ll leave right now and take her away.”
