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“Aye, in them novels what young lasses like to read, or in fairytales, but not in real life.” Mrs. Whittaker gave Rose a remorseful look. “All I’m sayin’ is, ye’ll have no-one to go cryin’ to when he changes his mind, or this all goes wrong. If yer make this choice, ye’ll have to live with it, come what may.”
I know you’ve known him longer than I have, but you don’t know him the way I do. You haven’t seen him as I’ve seen him. You’ve not seen his heart.Rose could not deny that Mrs. Whittaker’s words made her feel uneasy, combined with the warning in her father’s letter, but she had more faith in Dorian and their love than she had in their concerns. He would not let her down or see her hurt. He had already vowed that, and she was determined to trust in him.
“Thank you for what you’ve said, but I won’t change my mind,” she said defiantly, though not unkindly. She understood why Mrs. Whittaker had her qualms in such an unprecedented circumstance, just as the rest of the household and society, in general, would have their opinions. But, as long as Dorian did not care, then she had to learn not to care, either.
As though summoned, Dorian appeared, rapping his knuckles on the open door as he entered. His broad, open smile, so rare and charming, melted away any of her lingering fears. “Hudson has insisted on toasting to our future, and he gets awfully moody when he is left in want of good champagne and cheer. Will you join us in the drawing-room, sweet Rose?”
She went to him and looped her arm through his. “I will. I wouldn’t want to upset Lord Bentley when there is champagne at stake.”
“Splendid!” Dorian dipped to kiss the top of Rose’s head. She snuck a glance at Mrs. Whittaker and found the older woman staring at them, her hands clasped as though in prayer, with a single tear running down her cheek.
Is that a happy tear or a sad one?Rose did not know, but she hoped it was the former. If only to allay the lingering unease that swam inside her. She supposed she ought to have known that her pursuit of contentment would not be an easy path, for when had anything in her life, after her mother’s death, been simple?
I mustn’t falter. No matter what trials befall us, I mustn’t let it get the better of me…If only that could be as effortless as it sounded. For, out there, she knew there was still one person who would do everything in his power to make sure that she remained dismal for the rest of her days.
