Page 1 of Charlotte's Story
Chapter 1
“Happinessinmarriageisentirely a matter of chance,” I said as I tried to straighten thewataboshiresting on my black locks. My silk veil trembled slightly in my hands. Maybe from my nerves, maybe from the clock ticking down. The ceremony would start in less than ten minutes.
“It’s notentirelyby chance, Charlotte. You could stack the odds a little if you married someone besides Mr. Collins.” Lizzy brushed my hand away and fixed the headdress for me.
I bit my lip instead of mentioning that stacking the odds was precisely what I had done when Firth—even though it was sometimes still weird to call Mr. Collins that—and I agreed on the conditions of our marriage of convenience. We’d set up our own terms to make it agreeable for both of us.
I pulled out my makeup for a quick touch-up, careful not to spill anything on the white kimono I’d borrowed from my mother. “I could be just as happy with him as with any other man… or fae.”
“But he doesn’t even like the Unmarked.” She threw her hands in the air. “Hex, he barely even likes those marked by magic unless you’re a high-born fae!”
“He likes humans enough to propose to one.” I glanced around, but we were still alone in the small anteroom off the chapel with bare wooden floors. Turning, I focused once more on the mirror with a silver frame propped on a windowsill to fix my makeup.
“Lady Catherine told him to marry a witch to show that he isn’t so judgy, and I think he thought marrying a human would impress her even more.”
I pursed my lips. If that were true, it almost made sense in a twisted way. Witches were just humans with magic, so if he judged people by their magical ability, then humans would be the lowest rung on the Austen Heights social ladder. And while Firth’s disapproval of the other races was troubling, I also wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Lizzy glanced toward the door, where the faint strains of music seeped through the old wooden walls. “We don’t have to go out there, you know. It isn’t too late to change your mind.”
I shrugged. “It’s fine, Lizzy. He has his reasons for agreeing to this, and so do I.”
“You mean because your aunt tweaked her will?”
“Exactly. If I’m not married by the end of the year, I lose my inheritance—and I need that money to buy the building for my candle shop.” I shoved aside the sliver of annoyance that rose every time I thought about my aunt tying my future to a wedding ring.
She sighed. “But don’t you want your marriage to be more than just a business deal?”
“We aren’t all looking to be swept off our feet,” I said. “I did that before, and look what happened.”
The reminder of my terrible ex silenced us both. Lizzy straightened myobi, the soft white sash cinching the kimono to my frame.Okaa-sanand I were the same size at this age—short and thin—which gave me a glimpse of how I’d look in the future. In fact, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect for most of my life going forward.
“You know not all men are terrible,” Lizzy said, her voice as soft as the snow falling in waves and dusting the ground outside.
I bit the inside of my cheek. It had always been hard for me to find someone I liked, but I’d fallen hard and fast for Hugh. Everything had just clicked.
Or so I’d thought.
Every promise, every lingering touch—it had all been a lie.
The wind rattled the windows, and I glanced across the small room toward the snow-glazed glass, thinking of that cold, wintry day two years ago. “They don’t have to beasterrible as Hugh to still be terrible,” I said. I’d rather keep my heart to myself than let someone tear it apart again, and since I sincerely doubted I’d ever find someone I truly cared about, it didn’t matter who I married. I’d never fall in love with Firth, but I could trust him, and that was enough for me.
“But you hardly know Mr. Collins.”
“Maybe it’s better to know as little as possible about your partner’s faults before marriage.” And even more so if it was a marriage of convenience. I twisted the lid back on my mascara. “Besides, I knowenoughto know what I’m getting into with Firth.”
“Marriage to a ridiculous man with more hair on his head than sense in it?” Lizzy quipped.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to judge him,” I said. “He’s awkward and maybe a little full of himself—”
“And his sermons read like he swallowed a textbook mixed with the Bible.”
“But he’s reliable and polite to my family,” I said.
“How romantic,” she said dryly.
I elbowed her. “Plus, if I get married, my mom and aunt will finally stop worrying about me. Apparently, being twenty-seven and single is a full-blown crisis.” That was part of why I’d moved out of Lucas Lodge—my family’s too-full house where my dating life, or lack thereof, was everyone’s favorite topic.
Lizzy narrowed her eyes. “You do realize twenty-seven isn’t actually old, right?”
