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“Don’t ever come back,” he said with such finality that she literally crumpled to the floor.
Scarlett eventually pulled herself up from the floor and went to her room. Amid a storm of weeping, she threw her clothes together, leaving the luggage and clothing Carter had purchased for her. It was only as she lugged the heavy suitcase downstairs and saw the concerned expressions of Edward and Ann that she realized she had nowhere to go.
She’d denounced her father, siding squarely with Carter, thinking their love was the most important thing in her life. She’d alienated her sisters by accusing Rocco of murder, and she had no other family nearby. Scarlett’s wallet was empty, and she was destitute. There was only one place she could go, and though it hurt her pride, she knew she had no choice.
Scarlett went down the stairs, refusing Edward’s help with her case, but allowing the chauffeur to stow it in the trunk. Reluctantly, she gave her father’s house as her destination and put up the privacy screen so the chauffeur couldn’t hear her sobs or see her tears.
By the time the town car pulled up in front of Terini Manor, Scarlett had gained a semblance of control. The chauffeur carried the bag to the door. Marcia opened the door, and Scarlett forced a smile. “I’m home,” she trilled in a falsely bright voice that grated on her own nerves.
“Miss Terini.” Marcia inclined her head. “It’s good to have you home,” She moved aside as Scarlett came inside, dragging her case. “I’ll have Fred take that to your room.”
“Thanks,” Scarlett said distractedly. “Where are my sisters?”
“Upstairs.”
Scarlett forced herself up the stairs and knocked on Lecy’s door. After a moment, it was opened by a harried-looking young woman who was unfamiliar to Scarlett. “Hello,” she said, frowning.
The girl nodded, but didn’t speak as she had a mouthful of pins. Scarlett skirted around the open door and stared at the sight that met her eyes. Lecy and Chrys were both standing on platforms in the middle of the room. Three women were fluttering around them, tucking and pinning the dresses they wore.
Lecy’s was lavender silk, with a flowing skirt, and a delicate under slip. However, it was Chrys’s dress that caught Scarlett’s attention. It was long, flowing, and white. The dress was obviously made for a bride. “No,” Scarlett said aloud, denying what her eyes were telling her. “He can’t make you marry him,” she said fiercely.
Both sisters looked up, and Scarlett registered their shock. “The wedding is still on?” she demanded.
Chrys burst into tears, “Yes!” She was clearly miserable. “I don’t want to marry him.” She acted as if Scarlett had never been gone.
Lecy was stiffer and colder. “Chrys chose to do this. Father still needs money to pay the bills, and to keep us going, and Ralf still wants her. Don’t pity her too much.” She shot Chrys a scathing look. “It’s her own fault for not standing up to them.”
“Please help me,” Chrys asked pathetically. “I don’t know how to tell Father no. I don’t want to be poor either,” she confessed tearfully. The seamstresses continued about their business, as if they couldn’t hear the sisters’ conversation.
“You have to stand up to him,” said Scarlett. “I’ll come with you.”
“What are you doing here?” Lecy asked abruptly. “I thought you’d disowned Father.”
Scarlett shrugged, not meeting her sisters’ eyes. “Things didn’t work out with Carter,” she admitted blithely, trying to sound carefree.
“Father won’t let you stay.” Lecy’s tone was full of pity. Scarlett only hoped her sister’s statement was not prophetic, or she would be homeless.
Gathering her courage, Scarlett returned downstairs to face her father. She found him in the library, sipping herbal tea and reading a thick tome. “Father,” she said nervously.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come home.” Scarlett barely repressed the urge to cry. Terini Manor no longer felt like her home.
“I thought you were ashamed to be a Terini?”
Scarlett shrugged, but was saved from responding by Chrys’s entrance. The wedding gown had been replaced by regular clothing, but her hair and face were a mess. “Father,” she blurted out, “I don’t want to marry Ralf.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Rocco set aside his novel. “The plans are made. You’re only having cold feet, Chrysanthia.”
“No, I really don’t want to marry him,” she wailed. “Even if I have to be destitute, I can’t marry him. He’s horrible and disgusting.”
“Go to your room,” Rocco barked. “This marriage is taking place, and I won’t hear another word to the contrary.”
“No,” Chrys yelled, and then scurried to hide behind Scarlett. “I won’t do it. I’m telling you no, and I mean it.”
“I’ve had enough. First Scarlett turns her back on our family, and now you. I won’t allow it,” he shouted. “Do you hear me?”
Chrys trembled, and Scarlett could see her weakening. “Be firm,” she said softly. “You’re twenty-one years old, and this is not the dark ages. Stand your ground.”
