A bitter taste filled Amelia’s mouth. “I’m certain there is. To rush me into this marriage, I have no doubt Brighthollow will obtain a special license within days. They will march me down the aisle at sword point just to be sure I do not thwart their little plan. I doubt I will be Miss Amelia Quinton by this time next week. I’ll be…his.”
She shivered as she said the last, and wished she could say that the reaction was out of pure disgust or horror. But deep in the heart of her, she knew it wasn’t. Yes, she feared what was to come. Yes, she was hurt and angry, and she despised both the men who had so cavalierly put her in this position.
But part of her sleepless night was because of far less hateful thoughts of Brighthollow. Hugh, Emma had called him. That dark and dangerous man, so unlike Aaron Walters, did stir such strange feelings in her. And they weren’t entirely unpleasant. Which was utterly confusing and terrifying in its own right.
“Your father said to be extra kind to you,” Theresa mused, thankfully interrupting the wicked line of Amelia’s thoughts. “He said that was your future husband’s order.”
Amelia’s lips parted, and she pivoted to look at Theresa more fully. “Brighthollowdirected him to this?”
“Apparently, though your father’s suggestions on what that would entail were rather weak, indeed. Extra sugar in your tea, a chocolate biscuit? It took everything in me not to ask if extra kindness meant releasing you from the shackles he and this duke have thrown onto you.”
Amelia bent her head. “I’m glad you didn’t say it. I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know it only would have encouraged his rage. And I need you, Theresa. More than ever now.”
“Well, I’ll be there. Every step of the way. You know that.” The maid folded her arms and her jaw set with a stubbornness that made Amelia’s heart swell. Whatever unknown she would soon face, at least she would have a friend at her side.
“I suppose I should dress and face this day. It may be my last of freedom,” Amelia sighed and looked at her mirror again.
Theresa bustled off to choose a gown, holding up one then another for Amelia’s approval. When she pulled out a pretty pink silk with a gray overlay stitched in a swirling pattern, Amelia’s heart sank. That gown had been Aaron’s favorite. He had complimented her on it multiple times during a garden party just after they met a few months before.
“The rose,” she said, indicating the gown. As she stood and let Theresa help her from her wrinkled night-rail and into the gown, her mind began to spin.
“You’ve always looked lovely in this one,” Theresa mused.
“Thank you,” Amelia said. “Did you tell me that my father had gone out for the day?”
“Mmmhmmm.” Theresa’s tone was distracted as she fastened the long line of fabric-covered buttons along Amelia’s spine. “He didn’t say where, just that it had to do with the upcoming wedding.”
Amelia pursed her lips and sat when her gown was fastened. “Can you do that special twist?” she asked as Theresa lifted the brush again. Theresa nodded, and Amelia watched in the mirror as the maid spun and pinned her hair like a magician showing off a trick. Once again, she had picked a style that Aaron liked. They’d been walking in the park when he’d plucked a leaf from her hair and told her how lovely it was. Compared it to midnight, gone on and on about silk. Her heart had leapt with the romance of it.
After Theresa finished, Amelia stood and went to her full-length mirror across the room. There she looked at the girl with the hair and gown that Aaron Walters liked. And in that moment she knew exactly why she’d made these choices.
“I need to go see Aaron,” she said softly.
Theresa had been folding the discarded nightgown, but at that declaration, she let the fabric swish back to the ground and jerked around to stare at Amelia.
“I beg your pardon?” she burst out.
Amelia pushed her shoulders back and set her jaw, for she knew what she’d said was exactly what she must do. “In a day or less, the entire city will know I am to marry the Duke of Brighthollow in what will surely be seen as a scandalous rush. That is not how I would have Aaron know that our engagement, secret or not, was broken. I must go to him.” She caught her breath. “I-I must tell him myself.”
Tears filled her eyes at the idea of seeing his broken expression. Perhaps he would argue with her, plead with her. And she would have to refuse him, even if her heart broke as she did it. The pain of that realization was enormous.
“Oh, miss,” Theresa said. “That isn’t a good idea. Your father…”
“Why would he have to know?” Amelia asked. “I could simply take my horse and sneak away. He wouldn’t know a thing about it, nor would anyone else. If he discovered the truth, what could he do to me now? He’s already forcing me to marry a stranger. He can take nothing more than has already been taken. And you will not be in trouble as long as you don’t confess you knew.”
Theresa worried her lip. “It’s improper.”
Amelia bent her head. “Excuse me for being coarse, but I say bugger propriety!”
“Miss Amelia!” Theresa burst out, her cheeks turning near purple.
“If one cannot curse when one is being marched to the altar against one’s will, then when can one?” Amelia asked. “I don’t care about unseemliness. I am about to lose it all. This is the one thing I can do to comfort myself in that loss. I’m going and I’m telling him myself. As I should. As he deserves.”
Theresa let out her breath. “Well, I think I shall just turn my back then and go on to the folding. If you were to sneak out of the room when I wasn’t looking, I would probably assume you’d gone to the library to find some relief and tell everyone to leave you alone for an hour or two.”
“A good idea. I’m very upset.” Amelia smiled at her, grateful for this one choice after all the others had been stolen from her. Theresa reached out and squeezed her arm, then turned to pick up the discarded dressing gown. She even began to whistle as she went about her work.
And Amelia slipped from the room and toward the last bit of freedom she feared she’d ever have.
