Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

" M ake it tighter, Anna," Elizabeth urged, her voice taut as her cousin worked at the laces of her stays.

Her insides twisted in painful knots, every breath tightening the noose around her thoughts. She was still trying to process the enormity of it all—she was getting married today. To a man she scarcely knew. And it was all because of a scandal in which she had played no willing part.

"Goodness, Lizzy, are you trying to expel your lungs through your mouth?" Anna teased, though her tone held a hint of concern as she gave another tug. "Is this tight enough for you?"

"It's... passable," Elizabeth managed, though in truth, she wished it could be tighter still. Perhaps then her tangled nerves would have no room to wreak havoc inside her.

"You look divine," Aunt Petunia declared, clapping her hands in satisfaction as she admired Elizabeth's reflection in the tall standing mirror.

"Would you like a handkerchief, Auntie?" Peggy teased from the side, a mischievous smile on her lips.

"I don't cry at weddings," Petunia replied with a small, dignified sniff. "They are happy occasions, no matter the circumstances."

"I've never understood the tears shed at weddings either," Anna chimed in, shaking her head lightly.

Elizabeth offered a small smile at their exchange. Anna and Petunia were so alike in spirit, it was as if her cousin was a reflection of what her aunt might have been at that age. A thought that usually amused her, though today, it only added to the surreal feeling enveloping her.

"You do look beautiful, Lizzy," Peggy said, her tone soft and sincere as she stepped closer.

Elizabeth turned her gaze to her reflection. She was dressed in the palest powder-blue satin dress, with delicate lace trimming the edges. The soft hue made her blue eyes appear even brighter, their depth intensified against the fairness of her skin. She looked almost ethereal, like some fragile creature from a dream. Yet despite the elegance of her appearance, she felt far from composed.

As she met her sister's gaze, Elizabeth noticed the unshed tears shimmering in Peggy's eyes.

"Oh, look who needs a handkerchief now," Elizabeth teased gently, pulling her younger sister into an embrace. The act caused a lump to rise in her throat, emotion tightening within her chest as she held Peggy close.

"Oh no! Margaret Sutton, you are not going to make your sister cry and ruin her toilette under my watch!" Petunia exclaimed, feigning alarm at the sight of their embrace.

Elizabeth and Peggy broke into laughter, their shared emotions easing under the weight of Petunia's playful scolding.

"That's better," Petunia chuckled approvingly, though there was a softness in her eyes.

Before Elizabeth could say more, there was a gentle knock, and Sebastian appeared at the door, his face kind but serious. "The vicar is here. We're ready."

Elizabeth's stomach lurched at the words. It's time. She swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

"Oh God," she whispered, barely audible, her pulse quickening. Anxiety coiled tighter, threatening to choke her composure.

Just then, Anna took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's going to be alright," Anna whispered as Aunt Petunia gently ushered them out of the room.

Elizabeth tried to take comfort in her cousin's words, but her heart was a knot of nerves. The wedding had been a quiet, intimate affair, attended only by her family, the Duke's solicitor, and his close friend, the Marquess of Broughton. It all passed in a blur—vows exchanged, rings slipped onto fingers, and now, she stood as the Duchess of Sterlin, barely able to comprehend it all.

It felt like a dream, one she had been thrust into without warning. But whether it was a dream or a nightmare, she could not yet tell. Time, she supposed, would be the only judge of that.

As the Duke and his party filed out of the room to grant her a moment with her family, Elizabeth stood there, her hands twisting the lace of her gloves. Just as the Marquess of Broughton was about to leave, however, the quiet was broken by the unmistakable sound of barking. Titan and Plato burst into the room, their paws skidding across the parquet floor as they bounded towards her, nearly knocking the Marquess to the side in their enthusiasm.

"That pug is so tiny, he looks like a thimble!" The Marquess chuckled, amused by the sight of Titan darting about the room with his usual energy.

"He's my dog, and he does not resemble a thimble, My Lord," Anna retorted, scooping the pug into her arms with a protective glare.

"A thimble! Now that is too perfect!" Peggy laughed, her agreement evident as she clutched her side. Anna shot her a withering look.

Elizabeth glanced at her aunt and noticed the twitch of amusement on her lips as she tried to stifle a smile.

"When I brought you all to town for the Season, I never imagined I would be marrying off one of you girls this year," Petunia said, her voice suddenly softer as she turned her attention to Elizabeth.

Her aunt's words tugged at her heart, and Elizabeth's throat tightened. She wasn't sure how to respond, but her aunt continued before she could muster an answer.

"Never mind the circumstances. I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am, Lizzy. And how very much I am going to miss you."

"Auntie..." Elizabeth whispered, her voice breaking as emotion finally caught up to her.

"No tears now, remember?" Petunia said, giving her a mock scolding look. But then she softened, pulling Elizabeth into a warm embrace. "But it's alright. You're allowed your tears today, darling."

As if those words unlocked the dam, Elizabeth felt the sting of unshed tears burning hotter behind her eyes. She struggled to hold them back, but they seemed to have a will of their own.

"Oh, my little girl," Sebastian's voice came gently as she pulled away from her aunt, only to find herself enveloped by her uncle's strong arms.

"Not so little anymore," Petunia chimed in with a soft chuckle, though her eyes glistened too.

"I wish your parents were here to see you today," Sebastian said, his voice thick with sentiment as he took her hands in his. His warm, steady hands held hers with such tenderness that it nearly undid her completely.

Elizabeth's heart twisted. How often had she wondered what her parents might say if they could see her now? Would they be proud? Would they understand the weight of this path she had taken?

"Perhaps they are watching, Uncle," Elizabeth said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "And I am certain they are very much proud of you as well." Her words were filled with gratitude, not just for his care, but for all the ways he had become the father figure she so desperately needed after her parents' deaths.

"Why, you speak as though I were the one being married today!" her uncle replied, raising a playful brow.

"Well, it isn't too late for you either, Seb," Aunt Petunia chimed in with a teasing gleam in her eye. "Perhaps I should make it my new goal to see both father and daughter married off by the end of the Season." She cast a deliberately mischievous look toward Anna.

"Good luck with Father, Auntie, but count me out of your matchmaking schemes," Anna quipped, a familiar glint of defiance in her eyes.

Sebastian laughed heartily. "It will happen sooner or later, my dear," he teased.

Anna responded with a glare that was so reminiscent of the one she'd given the Marquess of Broughton earlier, that Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh.

Turning his attention back to Elizabeth, her uncle's expression softened. "It is you they are proud of, my child," he said quietly. "We are all going to miss you dearly."

The lump in Elizabeth's throat returned as she wrapped her arms tightly around him. She breathed in deeply, trying to memorize the familiar scent of him—something to carry with her into the unknown. She held him for a long moment, unwilling to let go, but eventually, she had to.

As they made their way to the waiting carriage, Elizabeth glanced at Peggy, who was discreetly dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. The reality of her departure was beginning to sink in.

"You be a good girl, Lizzy," Anna whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace beside the carriage. Her voice wavered slightly, betraying the emotion she was trying to hide.

"I should be saying that to you, Anna," Elizabeth replied, her voice cracking as the first tear slipped down her cheek.

"I miss you already, Lizzy," Peggy said softly, wrapping her arms around her sister, her grip trembling slightly.

Elizabeth nodded, though her throat felt too tight to respond. As she stepped into the carriage, a sudden wave of disbelief washed over her. Was this really happening? Was she truly leaving them all behind—the only family she had ever known, the people who had been her world?

As the carriage began to pull away, her hand waved automatically, her heart aching with each turn of the wheels. She had barely processed the overwhelming sense of loss when her husband's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"You will be visiting them, of course. I shan't be keeping you prisoner. Not for long, at least," the Duke said from his seat across from her.

Elizabeth turned to him, startled. His expression was unreadable, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. Was he jesting? Or simply being his usual blunt self?

"Is that something to say to someone leaving their family?" she asked, arching a brow at him.

"I'm merely reassuring you," he shrugged, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"In that manner?" she replied, her brow raised in skepticism.

"You're welcome," he said with a trace of amusement, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

For a brief moment, the tension in the carriage lessened, and Elizabeth's heart skipped at the sight of his half-smile. God help her, but he was handsome. The thought took her by surprise, and she felt an embarrassing warmth rise to her cheeks. Quickly, she turned toward the window, feigning interest in the passing scenery.

The countryside began to stretch beyond the city, the familiar landscape of London giving way to rolling fields, but Elizabeth couldn't shake the sudden nervousness that had gripped her. Where were they going? She wanted to ask, but her pride kept her silent. She didn't want to appear vulnerable or uncertain, not when everything else already felt so beyond her control.

The silence between them grew, thick and awkward. Elizabeth kept her gaze firmly on the window, resolutely avoiding looking at her husband, though she was keenly aware of his presence across from her.

Suddenly, the Duke rapped on the roof of the carriage, his voice firm as he ordered the coachman to halt.

Elizabeth's heart jumped in her chest. Her eyes darted to him, alarm creeping in as she wondered what had gone wrong.