AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“By that time, you two will be married. He can hardly undo that, can he? Besides, your father will have his loan by then,” Cordelia said with confidence.
“Men sometimes file for separation from their wives,” Hermione said, wringing her hands together.
“It is rare.”
“But not unheard of!” Hermione said, whipping her head round to follow Cordelia as she circled her. “Does that not matter to you?”
“As I said, by that point, your father will have his loan.”
“Is that the only thing in this situation that matters to you?” Hermione asked coldly, watching her aunt’s face for a reaction. There was an impassivity there at first, though it was quickly replaced by a rather doting smile.
“Of course not,” she said hurriedly, lifting a hand to Hermione’s face and patting her cheek. It was a gesture Hermione’s mother used to do and it made her ache inside. She longed to be looking at the fair features of her mother and the blue eyes that used to look back at her with love. Instead, she was looking at the similar features of her aunt. Cordelia’s aging beauty was still just about visible, even though it was a little strained now. “What matters to me most in this world is yours and Phoebe’s happiness.”
“It is?” Hermione asked. “Then why would it not matter to you if the Duke forces a separation?”
“I am sure it will not come to that,” Cordelia said with feeling. “We must simply ensure that Phoebe marries quickly, just in case. The finances will be safe then too.” As Cordelia walked toward Phoebe and sat beside her on an ottoman at the side of the shop, Hermione’s gaze followed her with her jaw dropped so far that she feared she might have to pick it up off the floor.
“You think only of the money, aunt,” Hermione pointed out, watching as Cordelia looked back to her from where she sat beside Phoebe. “Do you not think of our happiness?”
“Hermione, you are twisting my words,” Cordelia said. “When I had to say goodbye to your mother…” she broke off, her breath hitching as though warding off tears. Phoebe reached for her hand and clung to it tightly, offering silent comfort. “I vowed to do what I could to protect you both. The best way I can protect you both is to ensure you have financial protection. It may sound odd to your ears, Hermione, but believe me, getting you married to a rich husband is for your own safety, happiness, and wellbeing. Marriage is the safest state.”
Hermione couldn’t even nod at Cordelia’s words. She turned away from her aunt and stared into the mirror provided instead, trying to gaze upon the gown. Her aunt’s words were lingering with her. As far as Hermione was concerned, money did not equate to happiness.
She fiddled with the gown as the modiste returned ready to pin it. Antony had laid aside money at the modiste for the fitting, though Hermione was being careful with the expenses. She didn’t want Rufus and Cordelia to think they could push the Duchess on expenses and money, not if she was going to stop them from ever getting that loan they wanted.
“How is that, My Lady?” the modiste asked, standing back from the fitting.
Hermione stared into the mirror, looking at the gown. It was cream with a little lace around the bodice and the hem, short sleeves, and a train that went back behind her, trailing far past her ankles. An elegant and refined gown, it was just the kind of thing she had always hoped for. Yet it now felt tainted, for she would wear it and vow to marry a man who would barely look at her in it.
“Is there something wrong with it, My Lady?” the modiste asked, panicking as she moved to her side.
“No, nothing at all. It’s quite perfect,” Hermione said, though she still couldn’t smile. Her sister appeared beside her in the reflection. Phoebe’s sensitivity must have alerted her quickly to the pain Hermione was in for she took her hand and entwined their fingers together. “I should be happy, shouldn’t I?” Hermione whispered as the modiste walked away to give them some privacy. “Yet, I am not.”
“Maybe happiness will come in time?” Phoebe asked with evident hope. Hermione closed her eyes, unable to stare at her sister’s happy face. Antony had clearly meant that promise of a marriage of convenience, that he could never love her and would never even allow himself to have an affection for her. Since promising to marry her, their ‘flirtation’ as he had once labelled it had vanished too. She had only seen him once at dinner time since then, and he hadn’t spoken to her at all.
“Hermione, do not cry,” Cordelia said, coming to stand beside her. Hermione blinked her eyes, unable to stop the first tear that slid down her cheek.
“Why ever not?” Hermione asked.
“For you and the Duke are not married yet. You must still charm him and be happy around him, keep him interested and engaged in you. That is the only way this will work,” Cordelia said with a smile before turning round. “Now, let us look at the headpieces.” As Cordelia walked off, Hermione’s lips parted in amazement as she stared at Phoebe in the reflection.
“He is marrying me out of necessity only, Phoebe. He feels compelled to because he has honor in him. He believes he would ruin my reputation not to marry me. What does she think? That he will leave me at the altar?” Hermione asked.
“It happened before,” Phoebe pointed out. Hearing the words made Hermione snap her hand out of her sister’s. “Hermione, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know,” Hermione said tartly, turning away from her sister. She hurried behind the curtain, removing the dress so fast that she feared she would destroy all of the modiste’s pins although she didn’t care very much.
All she could think of now was the last wedding, the last promises that had been made, and the ceremony that hadn’t taken place. What if it were to happen all over again? What if she made it to the ceremony and Antony didn’t turn up?
