Page 50 of A Lady's Beastly Duke
“He can’t have,” she whispered.
Her father had granted Lord Ridley permission to wed her. If Lord Ridley obtained the special license...then she would be married next week.
She gazed out of the window, unable to think.
Her mind filled with horror. Lord Ridley, riding with her in the coach, without Rachel there to protect her. Lord Ridley sitting across from her at tea, feeling free to say the most preposterous things, and pout and sulk at nothing. Lord Ridley being alone with her in any room of the house, with nobody to protect her.
“God,” she whispered. “Please. Help me. I cannot do this.”
Shock and fear twisted her stomach, making a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. She was usually able to think of a way to resolve almost anything—she was brave and resourceful. But now her mind was empty. All she could do was stare out of the window, trying to convince herself that it was all a horrid dream.
Except that it wasn’t.
She had just spoken with her father, who had summoned her to his office. Mama and Lily had gone to town, so there was nobody to talk to, nobody to confide in. She wanted to run to somebody, to beg for help. She had pleaded with her father, but he had told her that she should be pleased, that it was honorable to be marrying a viscount and that Lord Ridley was sufficiently wealthy to provide amply for her.
“I cannot only live on silk handkerchiefs and roast pheasant, Papa,” she protested. “What of my soul?”
Her father had shrugged. “Silk handkerchiefs and roast pheasant are good,” was all he had said.
At the memory of that, Anastasia could not hold back. She began to sob. She had not known what love was when she met Lord Ridley—the beauty and joy of romantic love. She had only dreamed of it.
“Now I know what it is,” she sobbed. She had met the Duke of Willowick, and he cherished and cared for her. He talked to her and listened. He held her hand and danced with her and gazed at her with love. He laughed and joked with her. He cared.
All she had ever got from Lord Ridley was accusations, fear, and belittling. He did not love her. He did not even seem to like her.
“God, please,” Anastasia whispered.
She could not do this.
“Daughter?” a voice called from the hallway. Anastasia gasped, standing. Her eyes were wet with tears and her mother, who was in the drawing room doorway, ran to her, arms outstretched.
“My dear!” she exclaimed, hugging Anastasia tightly. “My sweet daughter. Whatever is troubling you?”
Anastasia held onto her mother, drawing strength from her calm, soft presence.
“Mama,” she managed to say between sobs. “Please. Please talk to Papa?”
Her mother gazed at her, confusion knotting her brow. Then, slowly, it seemed as though she guessed what had happened, because her confusion cleared, replaced with care.
“Come, dear,” she murmured. “Come and sit down.”
Anastasia tensed. She allowed her mother to lead her to the chair, but she looked up at her before sitting down.
“Did you know?” she demanded.
“No,” her mother answered. Anastasia gazed into her hazel eyes, and she knew that she was not lying.
“How can he?” Anastasia whispered. “How can he do this? I do not even like the man.”
Her mother took a deep breath. “I did not know, but I thought it might happen,” she said carefully. “Your father was clearly most taken with the man. His extreme wealth has been impressive to him, I think...and that is what has done this.”
“I don’t care if he’s wealthy,” Anastasia sobbed. “I can’t live on gold alone. What will I do without anyone to care for me? Without anyone to talk to?”
Her mother shook her head. “I don’t know, daughter,” she said gently. “I will still be here. I will visit as often as I can. And Ridley Estate is not far away from London. We will, at least, see each other often.”
“Mama...” Anastasia started to sob even harder. She had hoped her mother could do something, could help her in some way. But she seemed to have accepted the idea that Anastasia would wed the viscount without question.
“Sweetheart,” her mother said gently. “I know it’s not easy. But society is full of such arrangements. You will be well taken care of. That is something, is it not?”
