Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

“ P erhaps there is a passageway that you can escape through. You could simply disappear just as Lord Marcus did.”

Louise sighed. “We do not know if Lord Marcus has disappeared . I can only hope he is safe somewhere, or else this marriage will be truly useless. If he does eventually reveal himself, I shall wring his neck!”

She looked down at Sybella, her closest friend and most loyal supporter. Sybella was kneeling beside her, tweaking the train of her gown with a miserable expression on her face.

Louise averted her gaze from the dress, unable to believe this was truly happening.

“Besides, where would I escape to in Hanover Square?” she protested.

“I do not know, but one should never cast aside other options. I would have given anything to run from my own marriage. If there is a chance for you to escape, I shall see you seize it.”

Sybella’s blue eyes were downcast, her skin pale as it often was these days. Her husband was dead, and it felt strange to hear her speak of her marriage in such cold terms. Louise did not know what to say in response, but Sybella continued before she was able to.

“You could not look more beautiful if it makes any odds. I have never seen you so radiant.”

Louise looked at her reflection; her unhappy expression reflected that of her friend as she looked over her dress. It was a simple gown, ivory in color with very few details, and her hair was pinned in place by tiny pearl pins.

“Perhaps it is the rage beneath my skin,” Louise muttered bitterly. “It burns hot, thus making it glow.”

Sybella snorted as she rose to put the finishing touches to her hair.

On the way to the church that morning, Louise had spotted some snowdrops peeking out from the base of a tree and had plucked three of them to place in her hair. Snowdrops represented spring and the hope of a new season. She could not think of a more suitable flower to have close to her today. She pulled in a long, deep breath, drawing on her strength as her nerves returned in full force.

“I still cannot believe your father has subjected you to this humiliation,” Sybella muttered as she tucked the flowers between the tight strands. “I would commandeer a horse and kidnap you myself if I felt it would do any good.”

“I will always be grateful for you, Sybella, but there is nothing to be done. I can hardly sneak out unnoticed, and I would never escape in any case. If the Duke did not bring me back, my father would. Besides, I have had enough of gossip for a lifetime.”

Sybella turned away to put the remaining pins into a small ivory box on the sideboard. She was a lady herself, and yet she had taken one look at Louise that morning and dismissed her maid, insisting on helping herself. She was the truest friend Louise could have hoped for, and suddenly Louise found herself struggling to keep the tears at bay.

She had never felt so trapped or confined in her own skin.

When the marriage was first spoken about, it did not seem real. Now, standing above the very chapel where she would be wed, the reality of her situation bore down on her like an anvil on each shoulder. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed convulsively.

Her fingers were trembling, and there was a terrible fluttering in her chest that was becoming increasingly intense. She wanted to scream, to rip her dress off her body and run as fast as she could through the streets.

But I can do nothing. I am not in control of my fate, nor will I ever be.

The door opened, and her mother entered the room. Lady Northbridge looked elegant in a gown rather too dark for what should have been a happy occasion. Louise hoped it was a silent protest against what her father had done—a continuing act of defiance.

Lady Northbridge closed the door and put her hand on her chest, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at Louise. Sybella curtsied to her and then hurriedly left to give them some privacy.

Louise extended a hand, and her mother took it immediately.

“You look beautiful,” Lady Northbridge said thickly.

“I do not feel beautiful. This is not the wedding day I pictured.”

Lady Northbridge raised her eyebrows. “I rather thought you had never pictured marrying at all.”

“Quite so. None of this is what I want , Mama. Does that not matter?”

Lady Northbridge took her daughter’s other hand and held it in a vice-like grip. She stared down at her earnestly. “Listen to me, Louise. There are many things in life that one can control and many things that one cannot. You can shape your life with the Duke. I truly believe that. It is better than remaining forever at home with me and your father. Believe me.”

“And what will become of you?” Louise whispered. “I do not wish to leave you, Mama. I do not wish to leave you with him!”

“You are a strong woman, Louise. You always have been. Strong-willed and capable. If you wish to visit me, you can persuade your husband to allow it. Do not do as I have done. Do not allow him to control your life and your future.”

Her mother turned her toward the mirror. “Come now, get some color in your cheeks. The eyes of the ton are ever watchful. You must be resolute and sure, regardless of what you feel inside. Nothing is certain, my darling girl. Nothing in the world.”

Louise felt tears prick her eyes again as her mother moved behind her to fasten the last of the buttons on her bodice.

Everything seemed to have moved so fast, and yet it felt like an age since the masquerade ball. The image of the Duke’s tall frame coming into view had been at the forefront of her mind in the days leading up to this moment.

There was no denying that she was intrigued by him. She had thought about him often over the following days, but his arrogance overshadowed every quality he might have.

If all he wants from me is to manipulate my father into revealing what happened to Marcus, what will become of me when he gets his answer?

A long life of misery spread before her like a dark road she did not wish to set foot on. The Duke represented a side of Society that she loathed, filled with arrogant men who believed they controlled the world around them. Yet, Marcus Wright was part of Society, and he was the dearest man she had ever known.

How can two brothers be so utterly different from one another? I have never had thoughts about Marcus like the ones I’ve had about the Duke of late.

Before she could say anything more to her mother, the door opened again to admit her father. He was red in the face and perspiring—usually a sign that he anticipated an argument or was ready to initiate one.

Louise paid him no mind. She was uninterested in how he felt and what he wanted today.

“Are you ready?” he barked. “We cannot keep the Duke waiting.”

He did not comment on her appearance. Indeed, he barely looked in her direction at all.

“Papa,” she said, turning around and drawing back her hands. Her mother sucked in a sharp breath beside her. “I always swore I would never beg a man for anything, but I am begging you now. Please do not make me marry him. I do not wish to be his wife, and I cannot think of a man less suited to me.”

Her father made a predictable wave of dismissal and shook his head. His skin was mottled with patches of dark red, and his neck bulged unpleasantly over the edge of his cravat.

“You have a duty to this family and must uphold your responsibilities.”

“A duty to this family or your purse?”

Her mother laid a hand on her arm as her father advanced on her.

“Do you intend for us to lose our home? Is that what you want?”

Louise’s gut clenched at his admission. Deep down, she had known they were in dire straits, but nothing like this.

“So, you have gambled our home on a deck of cards, is that it?”

“Louise,” her mother whispered.

“I have made an arrangement that will save our family from ruin,” her father spat. “You are the daughter of an earl—your sole purpose in life is to make a good marriage and honor your father. Do not think that I will not cast you out if you make a fool of me today.”

Louise narrowed her eyes at him, her teeth grinding together. She wanted to snap at him, strike him. She wondered how the gossip columns would react if she broke her father’s nose.

“You’re going to force me to marry this man, knowing he will never make me happy? You’re willing to condemn me to a life of misery so that you can continue living in the comforts you yourself have thrown away?”

“You will be silent!” he snarled, and she recoiled at the rage on his face.

He looked deranged, ready to fight her until the bitter end. Still, she wanted to rail at him, to continue to shout and scream until the whole of London heard her.

If only she could run and disappear into oblivion.

And then what? Where would I go? I would be utterly alone.

Her mother’s hand loosened on her arm as her shoulders sagged.

Her father immediately offered her his arm without a word of apology or thanks. The action felt inevitable, as if he had already been anticipating her refusal and had countless threats prepared, ready to ensure that the wedding took place as planned.

Her father’s back was facing her, expectant and tense—arrogance personified.

Louise steeled herself. “No.”

The Earl turned back, his eyes widening as he stared at her in disbelief.

“I will not walk down the aisle with you,” she continued, stepping closer to her mother. “Mama can give me away. If you don’t allow it, I will run, and you will never see me again.”

There was a stunned silence as the Earl glanced between Louise and her mother in disbelief. She knew as his only child, her request would hurt him, or at least his pride, but that was exactly what she wanted. He was the one forcing her to do this—she would carry it out on her own terms.

After a long and painful pause, the Earl turned to his wife. His gaze was a frightening reminder of the man he could become—dark, brooding, and filled with suppressed rage. But it was all worth it, for her mother’s expression was defiant grace.

While Louise’s request might have hurt her father, it had emboldened her mother.

Without a word, Lady Northbridge held out a steady hand to her daughter. Louise took it, stepping forward as a servant opened the door for them to go down to St George’s.

“Are you ready, dearest?” Lady Northbridge asked.

Louise took a deep breath. “I am.”