If Duke Howard wasn’t so horrible, she would have agreed that he was a good match for their family, having so much wealth that he would likely never feel the need to dip his hands into Ashcroft estate.
Still, selfishly, she whispered, “Please.”
Her father pushed his spectacles further up his nose. “Elizabeth, I’ve already made my decision.”
Her stomach dropped, and she cast her eyes to her lap. She smoothed her skirts and took a deep breath before finally meeting her father’s gaze. She felt like theworst daughter in the world for resenting his decision, and for not taking the idea of getting married seriously. So she spoke the words that burned her lips, and whispered, “Okay, Father.”
“Good. That’s settled.” Her father looked slightly mollified.
“May I be excused?” she asked, wanting to be alone.
“Of course,” her mother consented, rising from her seat to accompany her. Climbing the steps to her chambers, Elizabeth felt numbness spread through her.
“I know, sweet pea, I know.” Her mother placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. “It is the way it’s always been.” Her mother hesitated. “You’ll write to me every day?”
She nodded and tried to smile to reassure her mother that she was all right.
But she was not all right.
As they reached the door to her chambers, her mother tried to follow her inside, but Elizabeth held up a hand. “Mama, I would like to be alone.”
Her mother left, looking crestfallen.
Elizabeth threw herself onto her bed, pressing her fingertips to her throbbing temples. She forced herself to take steady breaths until the familiar pain began to recede. These wretched headaches had plagued her since childhood.
She sighed, pressing her face against the pillow.
It wasn’therfault she was still unwed.
Being forced to marry Duke Howard felt like an unfair punishment for failing to find a husband by her age. She wasn’t evenold, but by the time her mother was her age, she was already married, with a baby on her hip.
It seemed cruel of her parents to always tell her that they would love her no matter what, and then to speak of her now as an overripe fruit in danger of spoiling.
She turned her face to look at the window, heat rising to her cheeks. Her father would be furious with her if he knew the depth to which she had been courted before. The one time she had made the mistake of caring for a man, and hoping for marriage, it had ended in disaster.
A certain Lord Timothy, a lesser son of a small house, had once sent her long heartfelt letters before they had eventually become lovers. They had stolen hurried kisses and heated moments together over the course of a summer. Charlotte was the only one who knew she would not be a virgin on her wedding night. After a summer of passion, she demanded Lord Timothy approach her father for her hand, as he had said he would, and then his letters had grown cold. Then theyhad grown rude, and cruel.
After that, she was in no hurry to find a husband. If that was love, she wanted no part in it.
Her life was good, and complete the way it was. She didn’t want anything to change.
She had naively hoped that her parents would allow her to remain unwed forever.
The fool she was.
***
Elizabeth wandered through the streets of Briarton with her mother, holding a new book tucked under her arm. She wore a powder blue dress with a leather corset, and her hair was worn in a loose braid over her shoulder—a blessing in the summer heat.
The cobblestone streets were merry, with commoners milling about and pink flowers bursting from hanging baskets on every street corner. From where they stood, she could see a glimpse of the deep blue sea in the distance.
“Don’t you have enough books by now, Lizzy?” Her mother scoffed. “You visit the bookstore nearly every time we’re in the city.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Not nearly enough yet, I’d say.”
“You and your father! Half my manor is full of books. Taking up spaceeverywhere.”
Elizabeth’s smile widened. “Only in Father’s study and my chambers, Mama. Hardlyeverywhere.”
