The Duke felt disappointed by her answer. He stepped closer to her, hoping to convince her to change her mind.
“Lady Sophia, you don’t have to conform to society’s expectations. Your scars are a part of you, and they do not diminish your worth,” he said softly.
Sophia passed him a sad smile. “Your Grace, I really appreciate your concern, but your mother is right. Perhaps there are some conventions that we must follow. After all, it is expected that a duchess present her best self. If that means that I will have to hide away my scars, then so be it.”
The Dowager nodded eagerly. “That is indeed the smart thing to do, young lady. I am happy that you have come to that conclusion all on your own. Of course, the final decision will always be yours, but I hope you know that I am only looking out for you.”
“Are you only worried about the gossip?” Duncan refused to relent. “Surely, you must be used to it now. It is not something that you should be changing yourself for.”
“I am afraid that the gossip will not only affect me but you, too, Your Grace,” Sophia admitted. “It is my choice to wear the gloves.”
“My son, I think you should let the lady choose for herself,” the Dowager warned.
“Choose? It has been chosen for her,” the Duke exclaimed, upset. “If that is your choice, then I cannot say anything to change your mind. But if I were you, I would reconsider it entirely. I must go now as the ministry will get quite busy soon. I shall see you all later.”
Duncan practically stormed out of there, furious about what had happened.
He could see how skillfully his own mother had guilted Sophia into accepting something that she was initially unhappy about. The thought disturbed him greatly, and he did not think that a duchess should behave in that manner.
But at the end of the day, he knew that it was not his place to make decisions for Sophia. Even if she had done so under pressure, it was something that he needed to respect.
Once again, he found himself filled with scorn at how obsessed with outwards beauty society was. If anything, this whole experience was serving to increase his fondness for Lady Sophia’s scars.
They made her stand out from the ton and gave her a sense of individuality. They told her story which was unique to her, and no one could take that away as tragic as it had been.
Sophia was being unfair to herself, he realized. And the worst part was that his mother was complicit in making her feel that way.
They watched the Duke storm away, and the room was suddenly filled with an awkward tension. The modiste’s gaze darted between the Dowager and Sophia, unsure of what to say that would dispel the tension.
“You must excuse my son,” the Dowager sighed. “He has always considered himself above the gossip of the ton, but you must know that gossip impacts us ladies much more harshly than it ever will him.”
Sophia nodded, even though she still felt uncomfortable about the whole exchange.
“You do not need to explain yourself to me,” she replied. “I understand that you are coming from a place of concern.”
“Yes, and that is what my son does not see. There is a difference between the harsh judgements of society and mine. My judgment is only for your betterment,” she said. “You do understand that, right?”
Sophia nodded once again. Even though she did think that hiding her scars was humiliating, she did not want to stir up trouble by voicing her disapproval.
“And of course, I do not want to force anything upon you. It is merely a suggestion,” Duchess Anna added hastily, as though to make herself seem more sympathetic. “If you decide on the day of the wedding that you do not wish to wear the gloves or the hairstyle, then I will not hold it against you.”
“Thank you,” Sophia murmured. “Perhaps we should go back to measurements for now if that is okay with you?”
Sophia just wanted a hole to open up at the base of the earth for her to crawl inside of. She had not expected a fitting to be this embarrassing for her, and now, she wanted the entire thing to be over as soon as possible.
“Despite the scars, I do think that you are going to make a radiant bride,” the modiste said in consolation. “I am not saying that just to make you feel better, but I mean it.”
Sophia felt as though she was being subjected to pity now. She sighed to herself, “Is it all right if I take a moment to go to the ladies’ room?” she requested.
“Of course, it is right down the hall.”
Sophia sped away from the three ladies and locked herself away in the ladies’ room. Looking at herself in the mirror, she analyzed her scars and ran a finger over them.
A scarred bride. That was what she was going to be. It was the visual evidence of the curse that she carried with her wherever she went.
Sometimes, she wanted to claw at her scars and do away with them. A few years after the accident, her aunt had taken her to many physicians in London. They had all tried to fix the damaged skin, using a combination of herbal ointments, but because her wounds been so deep, they had left permanent scars that she had to carry now for the rest of her life.
“The skin is too damaged,” the physicians had told her. “We cannot do anything.”
