Andromena pointed her eyes to the sky. “The bride-to-bealwayspredicts which McQuoid will find her happily-ever-after next, and which prince will come calling.” She bent her head back and opened her mouth to catch snowflakes on her tongue.
“Newly married,” Meghan murmured. A prince? The duke may be close to that lofty position, but he was no heroic, charming one written about in fairy tales.
Andromena gave up her quest for snowflakes and looked at Meghan.
“It is not the bride-to-be who makes the prediction,” Meghan clarified. “It is thenewly marriedMcQuoid.” Hartwell didn’t own her.
Yet. The duke didn’t own heryet.
Her tender-hearted sister giggled. “Which you are about to be when you marry Hartwell, silly.”
A blast of wind gust cut through the air, the sound a long, mournful wail.
She would be forever bound to the sinister Duke of Hartwell. Until last night, he had hidden his cruelty. But once married, she would not only see it—she would live it.
Every single day. For the rest of her life.
Meghan’s stomach revolted. Despite the cold, sweat broke out over her body.
Fleur crashed into the clearing, nearly dragged forward by her own heavy skirts. The younger woman, red-cheeked from the cold, panted. She looked back and forth between the sisters. “What happened?”
A very guilty-looking Andromena held her palms up and shook her head.
Fleur folded her arms at her chest and stuck a foot out.
“Fine! I threw a snowball.”
“It was nothing,” Meghan said on a rush.
Her protestations didn’t matter.
“Blast and bog it, Andromena!” Their cousin trudged the rest of the way over. “She is gettingmarried.” She vigorously dusted snow and ice from Meghan’s cloak.
“Oh, Meghan. I’m so sorry. You look beautiful, like a snow princess,” her younger sister whispered. “Hartwell will not care what you look like. Helovesyou. He wants to marry you more than anything.”
He only wanted to marry her to bring their families closer together.
Resenting the reminder, Meghan briefly shut her eyes.
A hand settled at her shoulder.
Through the whorl of snow, Fleur searched Meghan’s face. “Meghan,” she said haltingly, “you do want to marry the duke, don’t you?”
Meghan choked back tears.
This was the first anyone in her family asked that question. The McQuoid clan had spent so much time telling her how perfect a union with the duke would be, but none of them actually asked Meghan how she truly felt. And if they hadn’t asked Meghan…
Another eerie howl rolled across the countryside.
A chill scraped her spine.
If Meghan jilted the duke, would her familysuggestAndromena or Fleur marry theestimablegentleman instead?
Fleur’s voice whispered into the stormy quiet. “Oh, God.”
Meghan turned a dazed stare on her dearest friends.
“You do not wish to marry him,” her cousin said.
