Chapter 1 #2
“An offer,” she repeated, not liking the sound of it. Why did he make it sound as though it was a business proposition?
“For you.” He forced a laugh. “Don’t look like that. A man knows what he can pay, and he has made the best offer out of all. Not one that I can refuse and it lets that me that he is a man who knows what he wants.”
“Was this an auction?” she asked, feeling a sinking feeling at the base of her stomach.
“A man has to make things square,” he replied in a manner that avoided answering the question entirely.
“Was this an auction?” she asked again, feeling herself on the brink of fainting.
Of all the manners she had imagined that she would get proposed to, this was never one.
“Yes. But not as ugly as you make it. Business is negotiation, and marriage is business. It has always been so,” he said, dismissively.
“You’re selling me,” she gaped, stunned. “And for what? To pay your debts?”
“To pay our debts,” he replied. “You might have been away for most of your life, but remember that this is your family as well. You have a responsibility.”
“To the debts that you have accrued?” She blinked.
She did not know her father to be a very kind man, but such a scenario was beyond her imagination.
In a way, she did not feel much different than how she did at the table just moments ago.
A commodity to be traded at worst and a mere curiosity at best.
“Do you think the creditors only bark at me? They’ll bite the whole house. This is a salvation, and you ought to be show more gratitude.”
“I was not aware being purchased is a salvation.” Prudence was overcome with emotion. Even though the last thing she wished to do was be disrespectful to her father, she could not help herself.
“By being wed,” he clarified stubbornly. “Don’t be a child.”
“I am a child to the men at that table,” she argued. “They speak of me as if I’m a mere amusement.”
“You are not being wed to anyone on that table.” Her father gritted his teeth together. “If you are to be a part of this family, then you must play your part.”
“And what if I do not wish to marry him?” Prudence asked, feeling desperate now. “He is a stranger, and I have never even met him.”
“His title should be enough for you to consider him.”
“Titles matter little to me,” she said. Her father gave her a look, making her feel as though she was the most naive person to have walked this earth.
“In time, they will,” he scoffed. “Besides, there is not much to be done at this point. My deal has been struck with him already, and you are to marry him in three days' time.”
“Three days,” she gasped. It was as if he had told her that the sun would rise in the west. “I don’t want this.”
“You’ll do it,” he said. “You’re my daughter.”
Prudence hated the way that he simply ordered her around, as though his word was equal to a commandment. It should not surprise her, perhaps, that her father was so eager to rid himself of her.
It had not been the first time that he had done so.
Memories of the nunnery came flooding back to her. She had been too young to remember the details of everything, but her father had sent her there as he did not wish to take on the burden of raising her himself.
It was for your own good, he had justified when they had reunited years later when the nunnery had shut down.
But she was not sure if she believed him entirely.
The nunnery had been run by a man with bad intentions, and when it was shut down, it had let to his arrest. How could being placed in such an environment be for her own good?
“There is no need to think so much,” her father cut in, looking at her with a stern expression.
“It is an important life decision, and you expect me not even to give it a moment worth of thought?” she asked, surprised by her own tone. Even though she had her grievances with her father, she tried her very best not to argue with him.
“You should have some faith in your father’s decision.”
As though the last decision was a great one… she thought to herself. “I will need some time to process this.”
“There is no need for any of that.” Her father waved his hand dismissively. “If you are smart — which I have my doubts regarding, but I can still hope that you are — then you will accept this as the best thing that could ever happen to you.”
“Or rather, it will be the best thing that could happen to you,” she mumbled under her breath.
Two birds with one stone. How very convenient. Her father would rid himself of her and his debts with just one marriage. It was the best case outcome for him, and yet, he was trying to make it appear as though he was bestowing some great favor on her.
The idea sickened her as much as it scared her.
“Let me see him,” she said, surprising herself. “If I am to be bought as if I were a… If I am to be married to a stranger in three days, let me see him. If it is a matter of business, then let him inspect the goods and be inspected.”
“The Duke does not….” her father began. “None of that is necessary. He sent a man on his behalf, and that will suffice.”
“It will not,” she said. “If he can send a man to appraise me, he can come himself.”
She did not recognize her voice, and yet, it satisfied something inside her.
“You are already set on being difficult,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose hard. “You will thank me one day though your limited life experiences prevent you from seeing your own good now.”
“You have trapped me in a difficult situation.” Her voice had broken now. “I will do as you say because I cannot do otherwise. Not because I am grateful.”
“You will be a duchess. You will have…”
“May I go to my room?” she asked, and when he did not answer quickly enough, she added, “Please.”
He waved a hand at the door, already turning toward the desk.
“Yes, yes. Compose yourself.”
She shut the door, and only then did her breath betray her. She had not realized she’d been holding it in for so long. She bit it back and dug her teeth into the heel of her hand until the pain remade her.
Three days.
It was strange how time functioned. In the nunnery, three days' time was a lot. Three arduous days filled with chores and punishment. But here, it felt like it was the same as the passing of an hour.
Prudence did not return to the supper table that day, nor did she make any effort to leave her room after then.
Wedding preparations, it seemed, were in full bloom.
Routinely, she would be visited by various people in her chambers — fittings for a dress, picking her choice of flowers — but apart from that, most of her time was spent alone in abject misery.
She felt as though she had exhausted her own tears, and on the morning of her wedding, they refused to come out on their own. Prudence woke up with a sense of impending dread that morning, avoiding her own reflection in the mirror.
Pretty girl. It was something that was said about her often in the nunnery though her appearance did not do anything to add value to her being. If anything, it made her the target of mockery and unneeded criticisms.
Still, when she looked at herself in the mirror, she did not feel that there was any truth to those words.
In her own reflection, she only saw her imperfections.
The way that a small scar sat on the side of her cheek, visible to no one but herself.
Or the way that her hair curled up without her wanting it to.
Or the manner in which her top lip felt just the slightest bit larger than the bottom one.
Small things, perhaps, but nothing would escape her own self-scrutinizing gaze. So she did the easier thing and avoided the mirror all together.
Even on her wedding day.
“Miss Prudence,” one of the maids called out to her. Her father had enough income to be able to afford a maid, as was needed to keep up with appearances in society. “Will you change into your dress soon?”
Prudence looked back at the woman with a flat expression on her face. It was neither one of joy nor one of sorrow. Rather, it was as though someone had entirely sucked the life out of her and left her in a state of wakeful demise.
“I do not know,” she said finally.
“Lord Bastable has instructed me that you should be ready before the end of the hour.”
“Tell him I am not the least bit interested.”
“He told me that you would put up some resistance,” the maid winced, “but I should handle it with grace.”
“I am unsure what is so graceful about forcing a young woman to marry.” Prudence could not help but be sarcastic.
For a moment, there was a look of sympathy in the maids’ eyes, but it was quickly replaced with something more appropriate. Prudence knew that while the woman may have a heart, she still worked for her father, and her loyalty would lay where the salary came from.
Prudence sighed, getting up. “Fine, then. I suppose I should not make your life so difficult. You wish for me to dress?”
“Yes, Miss,” the maid agreed, seeming relieved at being released from dressing a non-compliant bride. “It would be good if we were to start immediately. I can get to work on your hair.”
Prudence said nothing and simply took a seat in front of the vanity. In the nunnery, she had been trained that she was useful only as long as she was compliant.
Perhaps that training was being put to good use today. She was compliant to the point that she would help her father pay off his debts.
Prudence wished in her heart that at least she was in the company of her friends. Oh, how she missed Maria, Charity, Alethea, and Temperance. But the wedding had been such short notice that there had been no time to invite them.
“They shall resent me forever for this,” she muttered to herself. That she did not invite her closest friends to her own wedding would not be received very well amongst them.
“What did you say, Miss?” the maid looked up.
“Nothing,” Prudence replied, resigning to her fate with a dejected sigh. “You ought to hurry up. There is no use taking a lot of time.”