Page 69 of The Duchess’ Second Chance

CHAPTER 34

“Iwas beginning to think that you would never visit me again,” Amanda’s father commented as she walked into his sitting room.

“There’s no need to be dramatic about it, Father,” she said. Her instinct, entering this room, was to move toward her usual favorite armchair near the window. Instead, she intentionally turned away from that seat and took a less comfortable one near the fireplace. She didn’t want to fall into the trap of feeling at home here. This wasn’t her home anymore.

Her father noticed the maneuver. “You’re free to take your usual seat,” he said. “It’s not as if anyone else sits there now that you’ve left. I never do.” He chuckled. “It’s not firm enough for my liking.”

As if they were old friends who had shared numerous laughs about the subject of the chair. She bristled. “I’m perfectly fine right here,” she said. “And I won’t be staying long anyway. I’ve got to get back to Rose.”

“I thought she had a governess now.” Her father sat in his own chair and reached for a cup of tea that had been set on the table beside it. No cup had been prepared for Amanda.

She recognized the tactic. She’d seen him use it on powerful guests who came to visit the house before, not caring that it made him look inhospitable and stingy. He would force them to ask for their own cup of tea rather than offering one unprompted. He had told her once, after a night of drinking, that it made him feel powerful to do that—to withhold something people were likely to want, even something as inconsequential as tea, and to be able to give it to them when they requested it.

She wasn’t about to fall for it. A cup of tea would have been nice, but it wasn’t worth the price. She wouldn’t play her father’s games. “Why did you summon me here, Father? I know it wasn’t to talk about Rose’s governess.”

“Summon you?” He raised his eyebrows. “Is that how you see it? Truly? That you have been summoned?”

“You sent me a message insisting that I present myself.”

“I invited you to call on me. Can a father wish to see his daughter without something nefarious at play?”

“Why did you wish to see me, then?” She didn’t believe his protestations of innocence, but there was no point in an argument on the subject. She was here now, and she might as well learn what he had to say.

“It won’t come as any great surprise to you that my estate is struggling financially,” he told her, setting his teacup down.

“I don’t know why I let myself believe this could be about anything other than money. You want me to ask Sampson to help you financially again, even though he has already refused. Even though he has made it clear that his position on the matter isn’t going to change. Even so, you want me to take it to him again, and let him be angry with me instead of with you.” She shook her head. “Do I have it right?”

“I don’t think he’ll be angry with you at all, Amanda. Why on Earth would he? You’re his wife, after all. Unless you’re telling me that you have a habit of angering your husband?”

“Husbands and wives do get angry with one another from time to time, Father. The fact that we’re married doesn’t render me immune to that. I’m not going to go to him with something he’s made clear he doesn’t want to discuss.”

“Do you fear him, then?”

“Of course, I don’t fear him. But I don’t wish to anger him. I don’t wish to anger anyone.” She sighed. “Whereas you seem unable to avoid the prospect. Can’t you leave Sampson alone about this?”

“My daughter is married to a duke. There ought to be some benefit to me, Amanda. Surely you can see the reason in that.”

“Well, I might not be married to him for that much longer,” she spat. “So you had better come up with another way to settle your accounts, Father, and stop trying to rely on me!”

The room went silent.

She was horror-stricken. She couldn’t believe she’d said the words out loud. She hadn’t even fully acknowledged the possibility that her marriage was ending in her own mind. She shied away from it every time the thought came up. And now she had said it aloud to her father. She had nearly shouted it. There would be no way to take the words back, no way to go back to the moment when he hadn’t known.

“What do you mean?” he demanded, leaning forward. “What do you mean, you’re not going to be married to him? Did you do something wrong? Did you offend him? Does he mean to send you back to me?”

“Stop it,” Amanda murmured.

“You don’t speak to me that way, Amanda. I asked you a question. Why would you say that your marriage isn’t going to last? What do you know? Has he threatened to throw you out? What will you do with yourself if he does? I’m sure you don’t think you’re going to come back and live here, after everything? You must realize there was a reason I worked so hard to get you married and off of my list of burdens. And as for that girl you care for, she will never be a member of this household again. That isn’t even up for discussion.”

Amanda had never thought it would be, of course, and she wouldn’t have come back to this house if he had offered. She couldn’t think of anything worse. Even the dreadful prospect of living in Sampson’s house while he married someone else would be preferable to coming back and living under her father’s thumb.

Still, the harshness of the conversation was painful to her. “You know,” she said, struggling to keep her voice steady, “other fathers might have cared about what had happened to their only daughter to make her fear for her marriage. Other fathers wouldn’t turn immediately to thoughts of how this impacted them.”

“Other daughters,” he countered, “would have considered their fathers’ economic needs when they made such an impressive match. Perhaps that is why those fathers are so caring and compassionate. Perhaps they have daughters who are worthy of it.”

“Or maybe they’re just kinder people,” she returned. “Maybe they don’t wait for their daughters to do favors for them before being thoughtful. Maybe they simply love their children.”

“You always were very dramatic.”