3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

R osalind wandered through the lush gardens of Harrington House, her mind heavy with the weight of the Duke's attentions. After his initial visit, he had called on them a number of times, even escorting them about Regent's Park.

The fragrant blooms and gentle rustling of leaves did little to soothe her troubled thoughts as she sought solace in the tranquil and familiar gardens of her home. Absently, she reached out and plucked a flower from one of the hedges, tearing the petals from it as she walked, leaving them scattered in her wake.

As she rounded a bend in the path, Rosalind spotted her sisters, Amelia and Isabella, seated on a stone bench beneath a towering oak tree nestled in a corner of the garden. Their faces mirrored the same concern and uncertainty that plagued Rosalind's heart.

"Amelia, Isabella," Rosalind called out, her voice carrying across the garden. "I'm glad I found you both."

Amelia looked up, her golden curls catching the sunlight as she offered a weak smile. "Rosalind, we were just discussing the Duke. It's all so overwhelming, isn't it? The idea that one of us could be a Duchess so soon...married and settled," she said, her voice cracking a little at the end.

Rosalind's brow furrowed in concern, but she nodded, taking a seat beside her sisters. "It is. I can't help but question his intentions, and the thought of being forced into a marriage of convenience fills me with dread."

Isabella's blue eyes widened, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose my freedom to paint, Rosalind. The idea of having to abandon my art for the sake of husband and duty... It's all too much." She twisted her hands into the skirt of her calico day dress as she spoke, her knuckles going white.

Rosalind reached out, gently taking Isabella's hand in her own. "I know, Isabella. It's not fair that we're expected to sacrifice our happiness for the sake of societal expectations."

Amelia sighed, her eyes distant and sad. "It's not as if we have much choice, Rosalind. Besides, Father has made it clear that this is an opportunity we cannot refuse, and he's not wrong. We must marry, and marry well, since–since our brother–"

Amelia stopped short, swallowing hard. "There's no one to look after us once Father is gone. We need safety and protection, which the Duke can provide," she said, but it was clear that she was trying to convince herself as well.

Rosalind shook her head, her fiery curls bouncing with the motion, refusing to accept Amelia's words. "We should have a choice, Amelia. We should be able to decide our own futures, to marry for love and companionship, not just for the sake of advantageous alliances."

"But the Duke is a powerful man, Rosalind," Amelia countered, her voice tinged with resignation. "To refuse his proposal could bring shame and scandal upon our family."

Rosalind stood abruptly, pacing the garden path as her frustration mounted. "And what of our own desires, Amelia? Are we to be nothing more than pawns in this game of politics and power?"

Isabella's soft voice broke through the tension. "I don't want to be a pawn, Rosalind, but I also don't want to bring ruin upon our family. How would we live?"

Rosalind turned to face her sisters, her green eyes blazing with determination. "There must be another way, a way to navigate this situation without sacrificing our own happiness and dreams."

Amelia's delicate brow furrowed in thought. "But what can we do, Rosalind? We're bound by the expectations of our society, by the rules that govern our lives as women. We've no experience of the world–what do you want us to do, take in washing?" she asked rhetorically. "The only one of us who has a chance in that regard is Isabella, and even then, how many women are able to live by the brush?"

Isabella's eyes darted back and forth between the sisters, her eyes wide with alarm.

Rosalind's shoulders slumped, the weight of their predicament bearing down upon her. "I don't know, Amelia, but I refuse to accept that we have no say in our own futures."

As the three sisters sat in the garden, the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows over the garden as it sank behind the London skyline. The sounds from the streets beyond the walled sanctuary of the garden began to fade with the light. The serenity of the moment stood in stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within their hearts.

"Rosalind, I know this is difficult, but we must think of our family's future," Amelia said softly, her golden curls giving her an angelic aspect as she spoke. "An advantageous match with the Duke could secure our position in society and ensure our continued prosperity. Whichever of us he marries will be able to support the others, and in time, find advantageous matches for them as well."

Rosalind sighed, unable to argue with the truth of her sister's words. She knew Amelia was right, that their duty as daughters of a noble house was to make strategic alliances and uphold the family name. It still seemed too much to ask of them, when they had been raised in a house with so much love to forego it once they were married.

"You don't think we're worthy of love?" she demanded, staring straight into Amelia's eyes.

Isabella, who had been sitting quietly beside them, suddenly spoke up, her voice tinged with melancholy. "Love is nothing more than a dream, a fleeting illusion that only brings pain and disappointment."

Rosalind and Amelia's expressions quickly shifted to ones of surprise and worry, taken aback by the sadness and pessimism in their youngest sister's words. Isabella had always been the most vibrant and creative of the three, her spirit filled with joy and wonder. To hear her speak so despondently was a stark contrast to her usual demeanour.

"Isabella, what makes you say that?" Rosalind asked gently, resuming her seat and reaching out to take her sister's hand in her own. She glanced over Isabella's downturned head to Amelia again. "Has something happened to make you feel this way?" she pried, trying to be delicate, but Isabella shrank in on herself further.

Isabella's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling as she shook her head. "Please, I don't want to talk about it. It's too painful."

Amelia leaned in, her voice soft and soothing. "Is this about your young beau, Isabella?"

Isabella's shoulders trembled as she fought back a sob, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. "I can't... I don't want to discuss it. Please, let's not speak of it anymore," she said with a vehement shake of her head.

Rosalind and Amelia exchanged another worried glance. Rosalind could see the same concern and tender feeling for their youngest sister on Amelia's face that was in her own heart. Rosalind knew from experience that pushing Isabella to open up would only cause her more distress, so she respected her wishes and changed the subject tactfully.

"What about your dreams for the future, Amelia?" Rosalind asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. "I know you've always had a passion for helping others, for making a difference in the world."

Amelia smiled softly, her eyes distant as she contemplated Rosalind's question. "I've always dreamed of establishing a charity, of using our family's resources to help those less fortunate. I suppose that should I marry the Duke, I would be well-placed to do that now."

Rosalind smiled a little sadly–Amelia had always been the most kind-hearted of the three, so it was no surprise that she was already imagining how to turn her prospective new position into a force for good.

The unspoken truth in Amelia's words was that this would all be subject to the whims of her husband. Amelia was good and dutiful, but Rosalind didn't doubt that even she would begin to chafe under the yoke of duty.

"And what of you, Rosalind?" Amelia asked, turning her attention to her fiery-haired sister. "Have you any hope for the future?"

With a sigh, her words coming slowly at first as if the idea were forming as she was saying it, she replied, "I want to be free, Amelia. Free to make my own choices, to follow my own path, but I fear that freedom may be nothing more than a distant dream, a luxury we cannot afford as daughters of the ton."