“Oh, shit.”
“Exactly.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I haven’t a clue.” The backs of Maddie’s eyelids began to burn and she blinked rapidly, hoping to stave off the tears.
“Look on the bright side,” Nellie said. “This may have happened for a reason. Remember, this is your life, Maddie, not anyone else’s. Do what makes you happy.”
“Will you still speak to me if I am ruined?”
“As if you need to ask me such a ridiculous question. And if you’re ruined from this, then I am the worst jezebel New York has ever seen.”
“We’ll be ruined together, I suppose.”
“Stop talking nonsense and hurry up in there. No matter what happens we’ll always be friends.”
Fifteen minutes later, Maddie’s hair was in a simple knot at her nape, and she wore a light pink morning gown. A footman arrived just as Maddie put on her gloves. “Miss, your father would like to see you in his office.”
It felt like her stomach had suddenly lodged in her throat. “Thank you, Robbie. Please tell him I am on my way.” She exchanged a worried glance with Nellie. “Walk me down.”
They descended the staircase, their slippers whispering over the carpet, and Maddie tried to focus on not tripping as she hurried to her father’s office. Nellie squeezed Maddie’s hand, then let her go, and Maddie pushed on the heavy wooden door.
The room was quiet. Harrison stood at the window, staring out at the lawn, while Daddy and Lockwood were both seated at the desk. Mrs. Lusk wasn’t anywhere to be found.
“Madeline, close the door.”
Her lungs constricted at hearing her full name, but she approached the desk and tried to read their faces, looking for some hint as to what was to come, but there was nothing. Lockwood appeared perfectly put together and calm, as always, and Daddy seemed impatient but not angry. Harrison didn’t look her way, just continued to stare at the lawn.
“What is this about?”
“Sit, please.” Once she was seated, her father said, “I had an interesting visit this morning.”
“Oh?” She clasped her fingers together to stop her hands from trembling.
“Mrs. Lusk asked to speak with Lockwood and me this morning. Apparently, she was up late last night and noted some inappropriate activities in the house.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. The air in the room was stifling, heavy with foreboding and thick with anxiety. Her father’s gaze narrowed when she remained silent, his brows dipping. “She claims to have seen you and Mr. Archer come through the terrace doors well after midnight, soaked to the bone.” He paused. “She also said that Mr. Archer returned your engagement ring and kissed you before he went upstairs.”
Maddie’s mouth had gone dry, so she licked her lips in a desperate attempt to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth. It was everything she had feared. “That is certainly a tale. Are we sure she hadn’t been drinking?”
“Madeline Jane.” Her father’s voice was sharp with disapproval. “Were you outside with Mr. Archer last night?”
She glanced at Lockwood, who was watching her carefully, the flat set of his lips an indication of his unhappiness. She owed him the truth. “Yes.”
Lockwood frowned and let out the breath he’d apparently been holding, and her guilt compounded. A decent man, he had been so kind to her. He did not deserve to be humiliated like this.
Daddy rubbed his eyes vigorously, as if trying to make this all go away. “So it’s true?”
She didn’t dare look at Lockwood or Harrison. “It is.”
The disappointment in her father’s expression nearly cut her in two. It was so rare, so upsetting to see him anything but proud and supportive, that tears threatened once again. He sighed and regarded the duke. “Lockwood, I’ll write you a check with enough zeroes that perhaps we might keep this quiet for a bit.”
“Of course, Webster. I am sorry this didn’t work out.”
“I feel the same. You have my deepest apologies.”
They were so polite, as if they were discussing the weather. “What do you plan—”
“Not another word, young lady,” her father said, his voice low and harsh. “Sit and do not speak until I am ready for you.”
Her mouth fell open, the command so unlike him. Before she could argue, he swiveled his chair toward the window and addressed the silent man in the corner. “Well, Archer. Are you prepared to do the right thing?”
Harrison didn’t move. “Of course.”
“We need to make this right as quickly and quietly as possible.”
Harrison nodded once.
What was happening here? Panic caused her to blurt, “Wait, what does that mean?”
“It means you have been compromised, Madeline,” her father said, his jaw tight with anger. “It means you will marry Mr. Archer. Immediately.”
Oh, my God.
She flew to her feet and put her palms out, as if to calm everyone down. “That’s hardly necessary. I haven’t been compromised. I went for a walk last night and Mr. Archer found me and assisted me inside.”
“Mrs. Lusk saw you both and remarked—quite loudly, I might say—about the intimacy of what she observed. Not to mention you had taken off your engagement ring and given it to Mr. Archer at some point.”
“Oh, speaking of the ring,” the duke said, his tone even. “If you don’t mind, Miss Webster.”
Dropping her head, she removed her glove, slipped the heavy piece off her finger and placed it carefully on her father’s desk. The duke picked up the ring and smoothly dropped it in his coat pocket. If not for the patch of red skin above his collar, she might have thought him unaffected.
You’ve humiliated him. Of course he is affected.
She hated the idea that she’d hurt him in any way. This was not the place to explain or apologize, however. She’d seek him out once they were done.
For now, she had to convince her father this was nothing to worry about. “Daddy, Mrs. Lusk has leapt to conclusions.”
“Perhaps, but she is one of the biggest gossips on the East Coast. I won’t have your name associated with a scandal, and the duke asked to be released from the betrothal if the story proved true. You will marry Mr. Archer and that is final.”
She and Harrison . . . married. Her eyes flew to where he stood, now facing her, the morning sun forming a ring of golden light around him. His expression revealed nothing, his emotions locked up, even in this moment of upheaval. That angered her, considering much of the blame for this lay at his feet. He’d pushed and pushed until he’d broken her engagement.
Lockwood rose and extended a hand toward her father. “Good luck, Webster.”
Daddy stood and shook the duke’s hand. “And you, as well, Your Grace. Thank you for your discretion.”
Then Lockwood gave her a grim smile. “Miss Webster, I wish you the very best.”
The moment was surreal, and she half expected to discover it was all a bad dream. “The best to you, as well, Your Grace.”
“Thank you.” Focusing on Harrison, the duke said, “Under any other circumstances, I’d offer to shake your hand, Archer.”