A smile played on his lips as he observed the seriousness of her tone.

  “Needless to say, our plans are conflicting,” Anna noted. “They cannot both succeed.”

  Again he smile, but this time with caution. “What are you saying?”

  Anna shrugged. “At this point, let me just remind you that I am not yet married to the duke.” With pleasure she watched the slight widening of his eyes. “And I would only feel obligated to fulfil your promise to the duke if the future Mrs. Miller were present at said wedding.” A sweet smile came to her lips. “Did I make myself clear?”

  For a long moment, her father just stared at her. Then he leaned back in his chair, and a strangely proud smile came to his face. “You truly are your father’s daughter,” he mused. “I always knew you were not as light-hearted as Judith, but today you surprised me. It took courage to do what you did, what you are willing to for your sister, and I admire that.” He laughed. “If you had only been a son, the world could have been yours.”

  Anna smiled. However, hearing her father’s words she realised that he had misjudged her. She had never wanted the world, not like he did. All she had ever wanted was to be free. Free to choose.

  “Am I correct to assume that my acceptance of Mr. Miller’s proposal would ensure your continued cooperation?”

  Anna nodded. “You are correct to assume that, yes. However, as you well know yourself, a word once given is not always considered binding by all parties. Therefore, I feel obligated to name my sister’s marriage a postulate to my marrying the duke.”

  Her father nodded. “Well played, Anna.” He rose from his chair, holding out his hand. “We have an agreement?”

  Again Anna nodded, taking her father’s hand. “We have an agreement.”

  ***

  Returning to Judith’s room, Anna found her mother and sister exactly where she had left them. Still clinging to each other, their eyes red-rimmed, they had been able to calm themselves to a certain degree. Only the occasional tear would spill over and leave a wet streak down their flushed cheeks. When they heard the door open, both turned, dabbing wet handkerchiefs at their eyes.

  “Where have you been?” her mother asked, pinning a lock of hair that had escaped her bun back up.

  “I went to speak to Father.” She lifted her chin in victory, fighting to ignore the exhaustion that threatened to engulf her. “He gave his consent to Mr. Miller’s proposal.”

  Two blank stares met hers as though she had just told them the sun had fallen from the sky.

  “What?” her mother breathed, coming toward her. “But how? I spoke to him myself. Nothing I said…I−”

  “I threatened him.”

  As flushed as it was before, now Judith’s face paled. “You threatened Father?”

  Anna nodded. “I had to. It was the only way.”

  While her sister’s face showed nothing but shock followed by the inclination to disagree with Anna’s reasoning, her mother’s eyes held silent approval. Gently, she cupped her hand to Anna’s cheek and nodded her head, a lingering smile playing on her lips. “I am proud of you,” she whispered.

  Anna swallowed, fighting back tears at the open emotions she saw in her mother’s eyes.

  “How did you threaten him?” Judith asked, sliding off the bed. “You couldn’t have. What could you have−?”

  “I told him, I would not marry the duke until you and John were married first,” she explained. “Now don’t argue with me. Believe it or not, but Father is not even mad at me for threatening him. He seemed strangely proud.”

  “I don’t understand,” Judith breathed, shaking her head. “What am I to do?”

  “You marry John as fast as you can,” Anna said, feeling a headache encroaching on her mind. “And then we’ll be done with this.”

  Chapter Six − In the Palm of her Hand

  “I haven’t seen you in ages,” Henrietta Turner exclaimed as she bid Anna to sit on the settee by the arched windows. “What goes on in your life these days?” The sun streamed in, touching the dark furniture and setting it aglow. Slowly, its warmth penetrated the fabric of Anna’s dress, chasing away the chill that clung to her limbs these days. Although she told herself that it was the cold spring winds that caused the goose bumps on her arms, her heart called her a liar.

  “I am to be married,” Anna stated without preamble, watching her friend’s jaw drop at the same time her eyes widened as though about to fall from their sockets. “In a month.”

  Silence stretched between them as Henrietta swallowed, her gaze fixed upon her friend’s face. Her hand, in the process of reaching for the tea cup, was frozen in mid-air. She took a long, deep breath, then closed her eyes for a moment as though to collect her thoughts. When she looked at Anna once more, her eyes had reclaimed their lively expression. “How did this happen? Last time we spoke, you didn’t mention any particular gentleman. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t know then,” Anna all but snapped, feeling the weight of her situation heavily on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Henrietta, but all this has happened so fast and I couldn’t confide in anybody about it that right now my head feels like it will explode any moment. Part of me believes that all this is merely a dream, a nightmare, and all I need to do for it to end is to wake up.” She shook her head, looking at her friend with desperate eyes. “Please, Henrietta, wake me! Wake me from this nightmare!” Tears she hadn’t known were there spilled down her cheeks. Embarrassed, Anna turned her head away, clutching her hands to her face to hide her shame.

  The rustle of Henrietta’s skirts reached her ear, and then her friend sat beside her, pulling her to her chest. “Hush, now,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her, and for the first time, Anna didn’t feel the need to protect or shield anyone from her own emotions. She could just be herself, reveal the fears that had claimed her heart the moment her father had announced his wonderful news. “How did all this happen, Anna?”

  As her tears dried, Anna quickly laid down the recent developments that had led to her engagement. While Henrietta’s eyes grew wide at her father’s disregard for his daughter’s feelings, a quick laugh escaped her lips when Anna recounted how she had threatened him into allowing Judith to marry Mr. Miller. “I have to say, Anna, I am proud of you! There are not many daughters who would do what you’ve done. Was he shocked?”

  The ghost of a smile tickled the corners of Anna’s mouth. “A little, I guess. But he wasn’t angry. I thought he would be, but instead he appeared almost proud.” She giggled. “Granted, not the way you seem to be, but still proud. He said if I had been born a son, the world could have been mine.”

  Rolling her eyes, Henrietta sighed. “Men! They all think of money, titles and power, of how to advance in the world. They don’t understand that all we want is the freedom they already have. Idiots, the lot of them!” Huffing, Henrietta filled their tea cups. “If we were free to do what they take for granted, the world would be a better place.”

  “I know,” Anna whispered. “But the world is not that place, at least not yet. Maybe one day a time will come, when a woman can decide her own path.” Taking the offered cup, she sipped carefully, welcoming the warmth as much as the sweetness she tasted on her tongue. “Cinnamon?”

  “Here.” With a grin, Henrietta handed her a small jar. “I’ve never met anyone who would put that in her tea.”

  Anna shrugged, sprinkling a few flecks into the hot liquid. “I just like it that way.”

  “Maybe it is because you are just as peculiar as I am,” she said, a grin on her face. “At least by current standards.” For a moment, they sipped their tea in silence. “What will you do?”

  Again Anna shrugged. “Marry him.”

  “Really?”

  “Is there another option?” Shaking her head, Anna turned to her friend. “Please, if you have an idea, share it.”

  Henrietta took a deep breath, then shook her head, eyes looking as defeated as Anna felt. “I’m sorry, but
other than breaking your word, I cannot think of anything.”

  Anna nodded. “Neither can I.”

  “At least Judith and John will be happy,” Henrietta said. For a moment she looked straight ahead as though seeing something invisible to Anna’s eyes. Then an angry snarl rose from her throat that made Anna jump. “How can your father allow this? It makes me so angry! He decides your future without even consulting you!”

  “But it is the norm, is it not?” Anna interjected, knowing that the same anger burned deep down in her own heart as well. Only she couldn’t afford to unleash it. She could not break her word. For Judith’s sake. “Most people marry because of certain advantages found in the union, not because of their affection for one another.”

  “That doesn’t make it right!”

  “Of course not,” Anna admitted. “But it is what it is. There is nothing we can do about it.”

  Henrietta shrugged, eyes guarded as though she was afraid to betray a secret. “Not openly at least.”

  “What?” Anna asked, narrowing her eyes at her friend. “What are you talking about?”

  For years, Henrietta had been her closest friend. They had been introduced by a mutual acquaintance and soon discovered that they both were among only a few individuals who spoke what was on their minds, no matter the consequences. It was Henrietta who had time and time again stood by Anna’s side, encouraging her to bend to no one’s will. In a strange way, the disappointment Henrietta had to feel at Anna’s acquiescence with her father’s wishes hurt more than the loss of the future she had all but felt sure of.

  Lowering her voice, Henrietta leaned closer, eyes open and observing. “Openly going against society’s rules would be close to suicide. But there are always ways around that. Ways that allow you to remain true to yourself, your own wishes and your own dreams.” She took Anna’s hand. “I cannot think of an honourable way for you to break off the engagement, while at the same time ensuring your sister’s happiness. Therefore, I’m afraid you have no choice but to marry the duke.” A mischievous grin curled up her lips. “But speaking the vows does not strip you of your own worth, your intellect, your courage. Be who you are. Do not let him intimidate you. Make him regret the bargain he has struck.”

  At the sparkle in her friend’s eyes, Anna felt her own heart rejoice, slowly growing with the courage her friend’s words inspired. Henrietta was right. Anna had given her word to marry the duke. She had not however promised to be a dutiful wife; a wife jumping at her husband’s commands like a dog, a wife unable to form her own opinions and stand tall no matter how they were received, a wife he would enjoy coming home to. She had promised none of that, and so she was bound to no other promise but to become his wife.

  A heart-felt smile transformed her face, chasing away the doom that had settled in her heart. “Yes, I will make him regret this. He will curse the day he entered our house.”

  “That is the spirit I was hoping for,” Henrietta applauded her. “But although I would not dream of discouraging you, I still feel an obligation to warn you. Be on your guard. You do not know about the many ways a husband can mistreat his wife.” Henrietta’s eyes looked imploringly into hers. “Your father has always been courteous to your mother, has he not?” Anna nodded, wondering what lay in her friend’s past. “Mine rarely showed such restraints,” Henrietta whispered and for a moment her eyes clouded, but she managed to force the tears back inside. “Heed my words, do not show any weaknesses or he will destroy you.” Then she got up and walked to the door. “Excuse me for a moment.”

  Waiting for her friend’s return, Anna thought about the advice she had been given.

  Familiar with most of the details of Henrietta’s sad past, Anna promised to heed her advice, knowing that she knew like no other the difficulties life could throw at your feet. When she was four, her parents had died, or been killed. Anna wasn’t sure. Henrietta had always refused to speak about it. Ever since then she and her brother had lived with Lord Dunwall, their guardian, who Anna knew had no affection for either of them, merely considering them a burden he sought to free himself of at the earliest opportunity. Anna could only guess why he hadn’t married Henrietta off to one of his friends yet.

  The door opened, and Henrietta entered, her left hand hidden in the folds of her skirts. Casting a glance down the hall, she closed the door, coming to Anna’s side with quick strides. “Here,” she said, withdrawing her hand from its hiding place. “To protect yourself with.”

  Anna’s eyes grew wide, staring at her friend’s outstretched hand, a small dagger resting in her open palm.

  Chapter Seven − Upcoming Nuptials

  Judith’s wedding day was fast approaching, and while her sister and mother were engrossed in every detail of the ceremony, from flowers to table linen, from invitations to entertainment, Anna could barely keep the frown lines off her face. Although Henrietta had once more ignited the fire of rebellion within her and Anna was now more than ever determined to make her future husband’s life a living hell, the dark clouds that threatened her own happiness felt even heavier with her sister’s joy for contrast. So as not to cause Judith distress, Anna kept to herself most of the time, reading or walking the garden, her thoughts always occupied with but one topic. Her own wedding day.

  Late one night, when sleep once more eluded her, Anna stole downstairs. Hoping that an-other gothic novel would take her mind to places far away, she sneaked across the hall and past her father’s study. When she reached the door to the library though, faint voices reached her ear and she stopped.

  Straining to listen, Anna wasn’t sure which direction the sounds came from. Silently, she tiptoed back into the hall, glancing about for their source. All was dark, and quiet, other than the soft whispering that still tickled her ears.

  As she once more proceeded forward, a faint glimmer shone from under her father’s door. Approaching, Anna noticed that the door was merely ajar, allowing the dim voices to reach outside. As she stood with her ear almost pressed to the heavy wood, Anna heard her father’s voice. “Despite the circumstances, I do thank you for your ingenuity and tenacity in pursuing our goal.”

  A snort rang through the air, followed by a man’s deep, yet quiet voice. “Our goal? I do not remember cooperating freely in this endeavour.” The man’s voice dripped with disgust that Anna felt a shiver run down her back. She knew she ought to return to her bedchamber; her father’s business was not her concern. But the oddity of the situation rooted her feet to the spot.

  What business could her father possibly be discussing this late at night? And with his daughter’s wedding the next day? Whatever it was, the other party did not seem pleased in dealing with her father. The man’s voice had sounded almost repulsed at the suggestion of being part in her father’s business. What could it possibly be? What kind of business could a trade merchant possibly be involved in that would allow for such strong emotional misgivings?

  “That does not matter,” Anna heard her father continue, a sharp edge now clouding his voice. “What does matter however is that you do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Am I under-stood?” The man had to have nodded his head in agreement, for her father continued, “Good. Now if you would see yourself out, I still have business to attend to.”

  Before her father had finished speaking, Anna skidded down the hall, hands reaching for the library doors. Her heart hammering in her chest, she pushed down the handle and almost fell to the floor when the door suddenly swung open. Panting under her breath, the sound deafening to her ears, Anna closed the door until only a small gap remained, her hands trembling with the effort to remain calm.

  Peeking through the small stretch between door and frame, Anna saw the beam of light as the door to her father’s study opened. Faint footsteps echoed in the stillness of the sleeping house, retreating across the hall toward the front door. From her vantage point, Anna could only capture the man’s silhouette in the dark hall as he walked with long strides, head held high but still appearing
somehow defeated. A sense of pity entered her heart, and once again Anna found herself wondering who the man she called Father truly was.

  ***

  The musicians played a merry tune, and the couples gathered in the large parlour of her parents’ house, ready to dance until their faces were flushed and their feet bled. In the centre of the amusement, Anna glimpsed her sister in the arms of her new husband. A radiant smile decorated her beautiful features and her eyes shone like stars in the night sky. Ever since the moment Anna had told her of their father’s consent to her marriage−no matter how it was obtained−Judith’s tears had disappeared, her eyes instead overflowing with sparkling joy. The same joy Anna could see reflected in John Miller’s face. As though transfixed he gazed at his bride, completely oblivious to the buzzing beehive around him.

  Anna watched. Just as she had watched them exchange their vows. And deep down within her, something stirred.

  Although envy was surely a part of it, it was not all that she felt. The feeling ran deeper, to the core of her being, where she thought the centre of herself rested. And there it was that a longing was born, a longing not simply to be desired or even loved, but to be cherished. For who she was. For all she was.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Judith circle the dance floor in her husband’s arms, and once again Anna felt regret for having relinquished her own happiness so willingly. The feeling lasted for only a moment, quickly chased away by remorse for even considering the possibility of her sister’s tear-stricken face. But it had been there. Anna could not deny it, could not lie to herself.

  More than ever she felt regret at her hopeless situation. And while the thought of torturing her future husband generally brought a smile to her face, Anna could not find delight in it now. Watching Judith dance toward her future, a future she wanted, a future she had dreamed of, Anna felt defeated, crushed as though on the day that her sister’s life had finally began, her own had only just now ended.