I stretched my shoulders and somehow managed to sit up straight. After endless conversation and my secret near drowning, I felt I could sleep for a decade. “I am exhausted.”
“We all are. You mustn’t let it show.” A crease formed between Mama’s eyes.
If she only knew.I started to laugh. “Yes, but I had an early morning—”
“As you should.” Mama huffed a breath through her nose. Her eyes seemed just as tired as mine. “Rosalind, you must work harder to improve. A duchess is never tired. She never slumps or takes calls withdamp hair! You will be watched every second. Judged, whispered about. You will be looked to as an example of how to behave, how to act. Even in something as simple as how your neck holds your head.”
I rubbed my temples.
“I know you’d rather be at Ivy Manor with the Ollertons, but you must practice these skills. At least until the wedding is over. Then you shall rest with your husband for a time.”
I sighed. “I fear I shall never rest again.”
Mama laughed. “This—the wedding, this change—is overwhelming, my dear. As all magnificent things are.”
I managed a nod, but my shoulders slumped again.
Mama’s happy expression faded, and she watched me, her delicate features wrinkling. “How are you feeling about your choice?” she asked. “The duke.”
Her question caught me off guard, and I sat up as straight as any proper duchess would.
Marlow. His name warranted power, distinction, grace, but to me he would also be “husband,” and the very idea was still too foreign. Iwantedto marry him. Any young lady would be mad otherwise. Like it or not, marriage was barreling toward me like a runaway hackney, and the only thing to do was brace myself.
I spoke slowly, choosing each word before I spoke. “Our union cannot come soon enough,” I started. “And yet, I hope I have enough time to do all the things I wish beforehand.”
Mama’s scrunched forehead smoothed, whatever anxiety she harbored dissipating. “Youareexcited,” she breathed. “Benjamin insists you are unhappy, but your father is right. It is just your nerves.”
She pulled me into a tight embrace, so I patted her back. “Nerves,” I repeated, clearing my throat. “Yes, I have been rather nervous.”
Mama pulled back. “But you are also excited, yes? Happy with your choice?”
“Of course,” I assured her, wincing at the lie. Was it a lie? Or was I just inexperienced and ignorant on matters of the heart? “Though I wish I had more time with Liza.”
Mama smoothed my hair. “You ought to spend your free time with your brother. Benjamin might be two years younger than you, but he feels as protective and affectionate toward you as your father and I do.”
I gave her a doubtful look. “Benjamin? Leisure time with him usually results in a chunk of my hair missing or a snake in my slipper.”
“Did I hear my name?” Benjamin entered the drawing room dressed in a cream-colored overcoat and breeches with a blue-and-white neckerchief tied doubly around his neck. He stopped to kiss Mama’s cheek. “Whatever she is telling you about me is a lie. I never put a snake in her slipper, nor did I chop her hair with the gardener’s shears.”
“What a brilliant coincidence, then.” I furrowed my brow at him.
“Come, Ros. You must forgive and forget. You named that snake Pious, if I remember correctly, and set him free by the pond. And, because I trimmed your hair—”
“Trimmed? You cut off five inches!”
“—you made handsome ornaments for your loved ones. So you are most welcome.”
I pursed my lips to keep from smiling. Ben, my ornery little brother. Annoying, yes. But easily redeemed. “Should you not be reading? Or studying? Or something more responsible than meandering around the drawing room?”
Mama stepped between us and put a hand on each of our arms as though to connect us. “Dearest, Rosalind and I were just discussing Rosalind’s feelings on her wedding.”
“Splendid.” Benjamin moved closer to me. “And howdoyou feel about having your wedding on our lawn, Ros?” His eyes narrowed, teasing me to tell the truth.
“I could not be more thrilled.” I mustered a smile and glanced at the far-off oak trees outside the window. Marlow and I had agreed upon a small, private gathering. I’d mentioned in passing how beautiful our lands were, and he’d practically snapped his fingers and arranged it all. I hadn’t known whether to be thankful or terrified that he held that sort of power.
“Excellent.” Mama clasped her hands together. The greatest benefit to having the wedding on our estate was how busy the arrangements kept her. She turned to me. “The invitations are sent, the menu set—did you decide on ribbons and flowers with Liza?”
“Flowers, yes.” I nodded, desperate to recall any flower in existence. Peonies? White or pink? Were hydrangeas in season?
