Page 1 of Starting Something

Prologue

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Tilly

"I can't do it, Tilly. I can't marry him. Not even for the good of the family." My sister has worked herself into a tizzy after talking to my father again. Their meeting didn't go well if how Mary is pacing says anything. "And do you know what he told Abigail?"

I curl my nose up and try to catch my breath through the corset I had to wear today. Normally, if no one is coming to the house I just don't wear one. The whole idea is scandalous, but I just can't bring myself to wear one if I don't have to. Today Momma insisted because Mary's betrothed is coming to take her to his island and she wants us all to make a good impression. I don't like Abigail. She is a horrible gossip and lives to stir up nothing but trouble. For me, it's too damned hot to start anything, especially when you have to squeeze yourself into one of these cages and layers and layers of fabric.

"He told her he didn't care what his bride looked like as long as she could give him an heir."

My nose curls again. That doesn't sound very...romantic. I'm not prone to flights of fancy like Mary is. She believes in the whole happy ever after thing, marrying for love and not for social standing or family obligation. I'm more practical. I’m well aware our father sees us as nothing more than cattle to sell off to the highest bidder.

One day Mary's fate will be my own. One day.

"I have no choice but to run away with John and marry him in secret before we get to that damned island."

She better not let momma hear her using that kind of language. Momma is the epitome of southern gentility. She would never say dirty words, go against what her husband wanted, or be caught dead without a corset ever. When it comes right down to it, I love my momma but I don't like her very well.

Guilt over that rises inside of me and clogs my throat. I guess I kind of blame momma for this whole thing with Mary. She knows Mary and John are sweet on each other and yet when our Father told us she was being shipped off like some livestock already branded and spoken for, Momma didn't say a word. And I guess I'm a little pissed about that.

"I can't do this Tilly." The look of fear and desperation on my sister's face makes all of the other small, insignificant things fade away and leaves my path clear to me.

After all, I did say that Mary's fate would be mine someday. What does it matter if that day is sooner than anyone in my family thinks it will be? I glance at my sister. We look strikingly alike. Same shape, the same shade of hair. Our eyes are a little bit different in shape and color but other than that...

"I have a plan."

Oh, I am so going to regret this. I can already tell I am. But there is nothing I won't do for my sister. Nothing. Including marrying a man people call the Black Knight of the South for her. I just hope I'm not killed in the process. Or worse...married to a monster for the rest of my life.

Chapter One

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Tilly

What in the hell am I doing? What the actual hell am I doing? Can I really be doing something so stupid? Yeah, I can. I stare at myself in the glass of the mirror and wonder how the hell I got to this point. I'm dressed in white like Queen Victoria when she was married to her husband. The veil is purposefully thick and heavy so no one can see my face.

I take a deep breath and look around the room. There’s no one here with me. My sister is off marrying her true love and momma...I think momma is hiding because she knows this is wrong. Not that I'm the wrong bride but the whole forcing her oldest daughter to marry a man she's barely met when she's in love with another thing - that's what’s not right. The two female maids that came to help me get ready left some time ago and so for the first time since I got to this godforsaken island I'm alone. And now I'm starting to have doubts.

Can I do this? Can I pretend to be someone I'm not? Does it even matter that I signed my own name on the marriage certificate when they handed it to me last night? I thought for sure I was caught then. It just...never occurred to me to put my sister's name there. I just saw the line and signed my own name. If they look at the document today then they will find out everything. Maybe they already know and they're just waiting for me to come out in this ridiculous dress before they call me out on it. What will I do then?

I take a deep breath and squirm on the unpadded iron seat. The damned seat is about as comfortable as the corset the two women stuffed me into. This whole house is uncomfortable, or maybe it's just the fact that when everything is over I'm going to be left alone with someone I don't know. Damn, I didn't think this through all the way.

"It's time." I jump at the sound of the maid's voice. Don't they say that to people they are about to lead to the gallows? I try to take another deep breath and can't do it. Before my father can come drag me out of the room I stand and make my way to the door and down the hall. My father is waiting for me at the end to hand me into the carriage we will enter. My future husband - God that sounds so odd - wanted us to marry on a cliff. As if marrying him wasn't scary enough I have to worry about him getting mad once he finds out, mad enough to throw me over the cliff we just married on.

I trudge down the hall to my father. He is a stern man without an ounce of love in him I think. "Have you put on weight?"

I swallow down a reply. This is not the time to be my typical smart-assed self and I'm not supposed to be me anyway. Mary wouldn't say a word. She would just look to the ground and wait. Besides if I say something he is going to know I'm the wrong sister.

"Oh well, he’s not marrying you for your looks I suppose."

My eyes widen but I just let him hand me into the carriage and try to shove the gown down far enough for him to get in beside me. Does my father know why this man is trying to marry us...me? Does he understand he just wants someone to breed?

Probably. Was that all momma was to him? Most likely. Am I going to be able to survive a marriage like that? God, I pray so.

In no time we are pulling up to an arbor lined with roses. I step out of the carriage on my father's arm as one of the servants comes running over and hands me a...bunch of jewels. The bouquet is nothing but gemstones and silver. A large diamond hangs from the end, draped and dangling nearly halfway down my body once I take it. Everything is....so much. The dress is too white, with too much lace, and...way too tight in the bodice. The skirts are too full and too wide and long. They have diamonds and pearls on them so that I feel like a snowflake or something even if it is the middle of summer.

Which brings me back to everything being too much. There are too many people here and it’s way too hot to be in this much fabric. I walk down the aisle lined with rose petals and worry. Last night the men were too worried about the dowery and all the other 'arrangements' to even realize I didn't sign the name they expected to be there. I swear my father had the document rolled up before the ink dried on it. But I won't be able to carry on this deceit for much longer. My hours are numbered.

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