Chapter 5
“How can a man look like the ones described in romances and be a villain in real life?” Madeline mumbled as she observed her reflection.
She was currently struggling with her ribbons, feeling clumsier than ever. Her fingers were trembling, making her morning routine more difficult than usual.
It had been only a few days since she swam in the Serpentine and met a man who could have been the love of her life, if not for his apparent disdain for her and callous manners.
Yes, she could still see his face even though the encounter barely took a few moments. His piercing blue eyes were like the peak of a glacier. She believed there was more to them, or at least she hoped there was.
Madeline sighed heavily.
“How unbelievably rude,” she muttered, as she finally righted her ribbons. The thing about having an irresponsible father was that she did not have her own lady’s maid. She did not mind it. She could help herself.
“You are the Duchess of Baxter’s sister, Madeline,” she scolded herself as she smoothed her dress. “You do not pine for strange, cruel men who insult you with silver and gold coins.”
Feeling a little better, she walked the corridor toward the breakfast room. Then, she heard her grandmother shrieking her name.
How did she even know I was getting close?
“Madeline! Madeline! Come here, child. We have been chosen! Oh, my prayers have been answered. We have been chosen!”
Madeline froze. What was her grandmama talking about? She sounded frantic and joyful, and the last time she heard her be that ecstatic was when Cathy finally married the Duke of Baxter. It was not a good sign.
“Chosen for what, Grandmama?” she asked, her breath catching, as she entered the breakfast room. “Are we finally being invited wholeheartedly to a card party? A ball? Have we won a significant amount of money?”
Lady Marlow was waving a cream-colored parchment in the air. Was that a flag of surrender? Behind their grandmother, Portia and Selina looked bewildered.
“No, silly girl!” The baroness cried with glee. Her cheeks, which had been pale as of late unless rubbed with a bit of rouge, were pink. “The Duke of Huntington has written back. We have been chosen for marriage!”
Madeline rested her palm on the wall for balance. “We have been chosen? Selina has not even debuted, and Portia would...”
Would rather die.
“No,youhave been chosen, dear Madeline!” Lady Marlow exclaimed, taking hold of her granddaughter’s hands as if they were truly celebrating together. All Madeline knew was that her whole world was spinning. It could not be true. How could she? “You will be the next Duchess of Huntington. He said that he has his solicitor drafting a contract at the very moment.”
“I... Grandmama, I do not understand. I have not attended a ball in quite a while. Nor have I spoken to any duke. What is it you are talking about?”
“Remember the Duke of Huntington with the advertisement?” Portia asked, looking aghast as she connected the dots. “He was the one who was advertising for a wife. Of course, you remember. Did you not write to him?”
Madeline’s thoughts had been focused on a completely different gentleman and had completely forgotten about the Morning Post, a story she meant to share as gossip with Lady Rose and her friends, but the day had ended in chaos.
All three girls looked at their grandmother.
“No, you did not!” Selina gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “I cannot believe you would ever respond to an advertisement for a marriage!”
“Of course she did not. I did. I wrote to him,” the baroness replied, puffing her chest out and tilting her chin. “I replied as a woman with sense and knowledge of the weight of being a duchess. Who better than our dear Madeline? I signed the letter with your name.”
“Y-you wrote a letter in my name?” Madeline spluttered as she felt the blood drain from her face. Her cheeks felt too tight, and her hands clenched into fists. “Grandmama, how could you signwith my name for a letter to a man who used the Morning Post to search for a wife?”
“What is that?” a confused voice joined them in the room. Lord Marlow shuffled in, his ear trumpet at the ready. “Did someone buy a moaning goat? Do you know that I ate goat soup when I was a young soldier?”
“That sounds horrible, Grandpapa!” Selina exclaimed, scrunching her nose.
“It was not a goat we were talking about, Norman!” Lady Marlow yelled into the trumpet. “We have another granddaughter marrying a duke!”
“A fluke?” Lord Marlow asked, frowning. “I suppose it is a fluke our dear Madeline did not drown in the Serpentine. And there is no need to yell into my ear, Margaret.”
Meanwhile, Madeline’s focus was on her grandmother and her growing fury. “Grandmama, you had no right to do that! It is like selling me to a stranger without my knowledge! I will not marry a man I have never met before. What if he is old? What if he is cruel?”
