“I saw Aunt Margaret on my way to find you,” he said. “She practically shouted the news to me.”
Michael sighed.So much for keeping it a secret, Mother,he thought dryly.
“She told you right,” he said reluctantly. “I am to marry Lady Lydia Townsend, eldest daughter of the Earl of Tockenham.”
Marcus cheered, moving to clap Michael on the shoulder.
“Congratulations again, Cousin,” he said. “This is happy news.”
Michael nodded, but he was already once more distracted by his efforts to create the perfect spot for the vase. There was silence for a moment before Marcus spoke again.
“It is clear how excited you are,” he said. “You look so lost in the clouds that I doubt angels could find you.”
Michael looked at his cousin, momentarily confused. It took him a moment to understand that Marcus had mistaken his absent-mindedness for excitement.
“Oh, well,” he said, stammering for an explanation. “It all happened rather quickly. It is taking some adjustment.”
Marcus nodded, but like Michael’s mother, he seemed distracted, as well.
“Aunt Margaret is surely already planning the engagement announcement ball,” he said. “And then, of course, there will be a dinner party the evening before the wedding. You’ll surely begin courting her soon and arranging to have the banns read for three weeks before the two of you are wed. And other people in the ton might wish to host a ball in honour of your engagement. Certainly, the bride-to-be’s family.”
As Marcus cheerfully spoke, Michael's mind raced with anxiety and dread. The thought of having to attend endless social events and engage in small talk with strangers filled him with a sense of dread. Michael was a private man, and he preferred to spend his time alone, absorbed in his work and his passions. He certainly didn’t wish to be the center of attention at such events. Especially in celebration of a wedding he didn’t even want.
“What fun,” Michael muttered, more to himself. The words were muffled by Marcus’s shoulder anyway as his cousin gave him a fierce hug.
“I am so happy for you,” he said. “I must be going, however. I shall go and retrieve the fencing gear and then be on my way. Let me know if you need my advice before your wedding.”
Michael nodded numbly, waving to his cousin as Marcus left the study. When his cousin was gone, Michael turned away from the artifact display and collapsed into a nearby chair. Marcus' words left Michael in a state of terror, wondering if he had done the right thing by agreeing to the engagement. Despite his yearning to possess the vase, Michael couldn’t help but question whether the price he was paying was too high. Would he regret making the deal?
Chapter Three
“Lydia,” the countess called sharply from the other side of her closed bedchamber door.
Lydia groaned, trying to rise from her bed slowly to keep her stomach from rejecting the handful of fruit she had tried to eat at breakfast, from which she had excused herself. She slowly approached the door, opening it to find her mother looking at her sternly from the hallway.
“I do hope that you wouldn’t pretend to be ill, just to try to get out of this evening,” she said.
Lydia looked at her mother in disbelief. She had never in her life feigned illness. The nausea she had felt very real, and she had felt it every day of the week following her parents’ announcement that she was to marry Lord Strawbridge. She couldn’t tell her mother as much, of course. The countess was still of the opinion that the betrothal was to Lydia’s benefit. She seemed to have completely forgotten all about the dreams Lydia had for her life, the plans which, up until one week prior, her mother had fully supported.
“I truly feel ill, Mother,” she said, unable to keep her voice from cracking.
Her mother, who was usually so loving and supportive, merely scowled at her daughter. She didn’t say a word as she stepped past Lydia in her chambers and headed for her dresser.
“Well, since you are so ill, I shall help you choose a dress for dinner,” she said. “It is imperative that you look your best tonight. You’ll only ever get one first impression.”
Lydia continued staring at her mother, unable to speak. She didn’t recognize the woman speaking to her right then, and her nausea returned with a vengeance. She was sure that the little food she had consumed would soon come up, and she closed her eyes and prayed for relief. Marginal relief finally did come, and she slowly opened her eyes. Fortunately, her mother had her head in her dresser and was no longer paying her any direct attention.
“Hester and I can choose my dress later,” she said, almost pleading. “I wish to be well for this evening, but I must rest.”
Her mother ignored her, pulling out three dresses. One was gold with dark yellow lace trim. The second was light green with dark green beads embroidering the bodice and, more sparsely, the skirt. And the third was a dark pink one with a pale pink plait in the front and pearls adorning the waist. The countess held them up to her, giving her an intense look.
“These are the finest dresses you have,” she said. “We just bought them on our last shopping trip. I expect you to choose from these three.”
Lydia just nodded numbly, unable to speak. She couldn’t believe her mother was being so strict, especially since she had looked so pensive when her father told her about the duke’s offer for Lydia’s hand in marriage. It wasn’t too surprising that her father was clueless to her lack of desire to marry. But she would have thought that her mother would be a bit more understanding.
Her mother carefully laid the dresses on the other side of her bed. Then, the countess walked back toward Lydia, her brow furrowed. She lifted her hand and felt Lydia’s head. For a moment, Lydia thought she was coming to her senses and switching back to the kind, loving mother she had always known.
“No fever,” she said. “Cold and clammy, but that’s no surprise, since you seem terrified of the most wonderful thing that will ever happen to you.”
