Page 53 of A Duchess Mistaken
The space was sparsely decorated save for a table with two chairs sitting on either side of it. Paul was already seated in one of them, facing a dark-haired woman on the other end. The woman didn’t look up at their entrance. She held both of Paul’s hands in hers, his palms facing the ceiling, and she studied them with a look of concentration.
There was a hush in the room. Agnes was tempted to comment on the sight, eager to lean to the duke and whisper about how fantastical this all was. Something stopped her from doing anything.
Maybe it had something to do with the utter seriousness of everything else, a stark difference to the playfulness they’d been victim to just moments before. Or the somber atmosphere of the sparsely decorated room. Whatever it was, Agnes simply bit her tongue and watched.
At last, the woman Agnes assumed was Madame Hendrix released Paul’s hands.
“What did you see?” Paul breathed, leaning forward in his chair.
Madame Hendrix met his eyes. “You have a very rare fortune, Mr. Parsons.”
Caroline gasped. Frowning, Agnes leaned towards to whisper, “What is it?”
“He hadn’t told her who he was,” she whispered back, not taking her eyes off the woman.
Agnes tried not to scoff. “Then she must have heard of the duke’s visitors. You know how quickly gossip spreads.”
Caroline didn’t seem inclined to believe such an obvious notion, enraptured as she was in what the soothsayer was saying.
“I see nothing but good fortune for you. You shall suffer no heartache, no sickness, no pain, no dismay. You shall remain in good spirits, of strong heart and mind, for as long as you live. You shall marry a woman you love, one who loves you equally as much, and shall live the rest of your days in peace.”
Paul relaxed visibly. “You frightened me, you know. I thought you were going to tell me that I only had a few more days to live.”
Madame Hendrix’s face did not move as she said, “Your future would have been quite different if it had not been you who sat in my chair first.”
Paul shuddered. Agnes rolled her eyes.
Her brother got up from the chair, looking a little shaken from the soothsayer’s next words. Madame Hendrix finally looked up at them. At her.
She pointed a bony finger at Agnes. “You’re next.”
Everyone looked at Agnes as Agnes met the woman’s eyes, raising a brow. “Next for what? To meet an untimely demise or to be happy for the rest of my life?”
Madame Hendrix did not seem perturbed by Agnes’ sarcasm. She gestured to the chair. “Sit, Miss Agnes.”
The way she said her name sent a chill down Agnes’ spine. It didn’t help that Caroline gasped again.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Johnathan said by her side.
Agnes only shot him a glance. “Then that means I have to, don’t I?”
She strode forward, ignoring the prickly sensation at the base of her neck as she claimed the chair across from the soothsayer. Agnes stared at her for a long moment, wondering if she was really going to let this happen. Deciding after a while that it wasn’t going to hurt, she offered both her hands.
Madame Hendrix shook her head. “I do not need to read your palms. Your future is all but marked on your forehead.”
“Is that so?”
“You are headed down a dangerous path,” Madame Hendrix went on. “One that will lead to ruin if you are not careful.”
Caroline’s audible gasp nearly had Agnes rolling her eyes again. “Do you mean that she’s…”
“I do not mean death, no,” Madame Hendrix clarified without looking away from Agnes. “She will live a long, healthy life. Your heart, however, will suffer greatly if you are not careful. The path you trod now will only lead you to pain and sadness. But there is a chance that all will be well if you allow yourself to let go.”
“Let go?” Agnes echoed. “Do you not think yourself a bit too vague to be offering advice?”
“It is the only advice I can give. Anything else may alter the future.”
Agnes let out a breath of frustration. “Well, that was incredibly disappointing. I cannot imagine what or who could cause me any amount of pain or sadness in the future.”
