Page 2 of The Duke's Scottish Bride
“Lady Marion, please let me rub yer back. It’ll help calm ye nerves,” Jean offered softly.
“I cannae shake the feelin’ that somethin’ terrible will befall me if I go through with this… Yet, I ken that me fate will be even worse if I daenae marry Lord Gilton,” she confessed. Tears prickled the backs of her eyes but she forbade them from falling. “How does a person make a choice when they are all bad?”
Marion hated crying and the feeling of the wetness on her face. Innately, she was a happy person, and she abhorred any person or situation that stifled that. In fact, she had not cried since her parents passed away all those years ago. The thought of them, how they should be here to help and guide her, sat heavily on her chest.
This is all too much. How am I supposed to go through with this?
The inside of the carriage, despite the luxurious trappings and velvet of the cushions, felt hard and stifling. The relentless clop of the horses’ hooves echoed in her ears and was only eclipsed by the frantic beating of her heart. She may as well have been in a tomb; at least then there would be silence.
Buried in that wedding gown.
The words clawed at her, painting a horrifying picture, as she tried not to think about it. Yet, the more she tried to push the images away, the more they surrounded her.
She pictured herself in a coffin with dirt seeping through the cracks in the wood as she was buried. It was as if she could hear the shovel smack against gravel and send little rocks hitting thecasket in sickening repetition, just like the merciless clopping of hooves.
I cannae breathe. I cannae think. I must get out of this carriage.
“Driver, stop!” Marion cried. Her voice was thin as she clutched at the bodice of her dress. “I need air. Just for a moment. I beg ye, please!”
“My lady, I am under strict orders from Lord Harlowe not to stop until we reach the church,” the driver called back, his voice gruff but not unkind. “Just following orders.”
“Please!” Marion pleaded, pressing her hand against the partition between them. “I beg ye with all me heart! Just for a moment. I feel…I feel like I am goin’ to be sick.”
The driver shook his head and after a moment of hesitation, the carriage began to slow. They pulled to a halt beside a narrow alleyway in Strathcairn Village.
“Just a minute, then, my lady, and no more,” the driver conceded, likely afraid she would wretch in the carriage and ruin her dress. “Your uncle will have my head if we are late, and I very much like my head.”
Marion did not wait for Jean. She flung open the door and practically tumbled out.
She gulped desperately, inhaling the cool, crisp air. Pulling the note out of her sleeve where she had tucked it, she clutched it in her hand. She stared at the crumpled paper in her fist. Her mind raced to find a sensible solution to an impossible problem.
She closed her eyes in defeat.
What options do I have?Where can I go, especially when I look like this? Think, Marion. Think!
Her mind drifted and again she could see her body in the coffin. This time it was as if she were a spectral spirit looking down on herself.
There was dirt on the white dress and her once radiant face had gone deathly pale.
She could not take the thought a second more.
She opened her eyes, looked out, and saw it right in front of her. The wheels of her mind began twisting, fast and furious.
Reckless? Yes… But is it my only option? Also, yes…Oh Maither and Faither, what should I do?
On the other side of the alley, partially obscured by a bustling market stall, sat another carriage. It was unfamiliar, unguarded…and seemingly unoccupied from her vantage point.
Anything must be better than this,she thought.
Her body screamed with anxiety and sprang into motion before she could register the course ahead.
Marion darted across the alley, lifted her dress to her knees, and moved with surprising agility. While her heavy gown was a hindrance, nothing could dampen her resolve. She moved with a desperate speed; one she did not even know she possessed inside of her.
Perhaps there is some of me maither’s fiery spirit within me yet!
She yanked open the mysterious carriage door and scrambled inside before pulling it shut behind herself with a click.
The darkness inside was a welcome reprieve for her sore eyes. She just needed time to relax and think.
