“Whatever do you mean?” Margaret said.
“It does not matter. Nothing matters any longer. We will not be getting married. That is the truth of the situation. That is the truth of my life,” she collapsed into another fit of tears. She closed her eyes and tried to block out the entire world, but it was impossible.
Margaret rubbed her back while Thomas made soothing sounds, just like Charlotte and Nathaniel did when Luke was fussing.
“This will pass, Rose. I know this is not the outcome we wanted or expected, but…” Margaret said, struggling to find anything reassuring to say.
“I should have words with him. He fooled us all,” Thomas growled, his face darkening.
“Thomas, do not be foolish. You will only be making the situation worse,” Margaret said.
“Look at Rose! The Duke did this. I must stand in defense of my daughter,” Thomas protested.
“It is not his fault. It is… I am not sure things were ever meant to be. Please, I do not wish for any unnecessary strife. There is only one thing I want,” she said.
“What’s that, dear?” Margaret asked.
“To never be placed in this situation again. My heart is raw, and I am not sure it will ever recover. The thought of falling in love with someone else or taking anyone other than the Duke as a husband is unpalatable. I am wretched and heartbroken, and I can never love again.”
There it was, she thought. It was what she had wanted from the very beginning. This plan she had concocted. Oh, how smug she had been, thinking she had outwitted her parents and society’s expectations that sought to shackle her. Only now she was shackled because there was no lie, there was no deceit. All her fears of having to lie to the people closest to her turned out to be nothing because she felt that everything she thought would be false was true.
Thomas and Margaret looked crestfallen, but they responded with understanding rather than anger.
“Of course, Rose. Perhaps we have a part to blame in this as well, for we pushed you into this. I think we need to learn to be less insistent,” Thomas said, glancing toward Margaret. “You do not have to marry anyone if you do not wish.”
“You always have a home with us, and we love you just as you are, no matter what. I am sorry that this happened. I never believed that a man could be so deceitful. I truly thought he would… Ah, well, it does not matter now. All that matters is that you are here, with us, and you never need to be anywhere else again. I promise that we shall never push you into marriage again,” Margaret said.
Rose was tempted to speak in defense of Edmund’s actions again. What a fool she was! Defending the man who had torn her heart apart. She closed her eyes and swallowed her sorrow, nodding.
“Thank you, it is most kind,” she was just barely holding things together. She clasped her hands in her lap. No food was on her plate, as she could not summon the appetite to eat. “I am sorry to have disappointed you, but I know that my heart will be no good to anyone after this, after... him.”
This was no lie. Her fears had changed because of her experience with Edmund. She was no longer afraid of being pushed into marriage. She was afraid of being unable to be with the man she loved. He would never be hers, and she hated herself for being so weak as to allow her heart to develop these feelings.
Nothing would be the same any longer. As she moved about the world, everything would be colored by this sorrow. She would think of Edmund often. Any romance novel she read would not be aspirational, but rather a savage mockery of her own failure. The independence she craved turned out to be a prison, and her sentence was one that would last her entire life.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“It is a pleasant day, Your Grace. Do you wish to ride?” George asked. Light slanted through the doorway. It was the only light that penetrated the room. Edmund was in his study. The curtains were drawn, as they had been since he returned from seeing Rose. His face was ashen, his eyes bloodshot. A dark mood swirled in his mind. A bottle of port sat beside him, his only companion in these gloomy days.
“No, I do not wish to ride,” Edmund said bluntly.
“I see,” George cleared his throat. “I understand you said to cancel all of your social engagements, but perhaps it would be best if you return to your routine, Your Grace.”
“Routine. I have had enough of routine. I have had enough of everything. You know what I want, George?” Edmund lifted his gaze. George raised an enquiring eyebrow, although there was trepidation in his expression, fearing what Edmund might say.“I want to get away from here, George. Away from London. Find me a passage on a ship. I wish to leave as soon as possible.”
George’s lips parted, and Edmund sensed that he was going to protest, but George was silenced by a glare. Instead, he snapped his heels together, inclined his head obediently, then backed out of the room.
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
Edmund had been sitting in darkness for some time when he received another visitor: Lydia. She frowned as she looked around the room, then pulled the curtains back. Edmund flinched as the light hit him, like some morbid creature who could not stand sunlight.
“Edmund, this must stop. It has been days, and I will not see you disappear into this room,” she said.
“I do not interfere with your life, Lydia. I would ask that you do not interfere with mine.”
“This is not interfering, Edmund. This is caring. Why are you in such despair? Did something happen with Rose?”
Edmund smirked, although there was no humor at all in his expression.
