Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Servants rushed about Fairfield Manor. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, for there was a last-minute wedding to prepare for.
Seamstresses altered the bridal gown’s fit while Rachel stood in the room’s centre, her hands twiddling anxiously at her sides. It was the first and last fitting as everything had been arranged at the last hour.
Her reflection in the mirror hardly seemed like her own. The dress was simple—there was no time for anything else, given how quickly everything had unfolded.
A week. That was how long it took for her first meeting with the duke to now—the day before her wedding. It had happened so fast that Rachel had processed none of it.
“Stand still, Miss Rachel,” one of the seamstresses chided gently. “We’re nearly done.”
Rachel barely paid her any attention.
Since the duke’s departure, her father had been furiously critical of her, never shying away from reminding her of the dishonor she had brought upon their family.
That morning, his cheeks red with anger, he shouted out, “You’ve humiliated me beyond measure, girl. If the duke weren’t hell-bent on marrying you, I would…”
Rachel was unconcerned that he hadn’t completed the sentence. He did not need to, truly. Christopher had made no secret of the fact that he regretted having her in the first place and that she was just a terrible burden for him to bear.
But frankly, she knew that his opinion would not change whether she married anyone else, either. Therefore, it was best not to worry herself too much over it.
The next moment, Letitia swayed into the room. As expected, she did not even bother to knock, for she felt entitled to enter any room.
Rachel turned to look at her and noticed the dress that she had chosen to wear. It was a bit too loud for the occasion, but Letitia wasted no opportunity to divert all the attention to herself.
Letitia did not smile at the bride. Instead, she scrunched up her nose immediately and cast a dismissive glance at her gown.
“Is that the best you could manage? It’s dreadfully plain. You’re marrying a duke, for heaven’s sake. Perhaps he will see you in this dress, and call off the wedding.”
Rachel gritted her teeth but said nothing.
“And the color of your dress. Are you trying to look like some sort of saintly martyr? It’s so awfully plain and forgettable. Then again, that fits you quite well.”
“Leave her alone, Letitia. Do you not have anything else to do?”
Rachel turned in surprise to see Marina standing there. Her sister rarely intervened in conflicts, of which there were many in this household. But now, she was stepping up to protect Rachel. It felt oddly endearing.
“You’ve barely been to a proper ball, let alone planned a wedding,” Letitia retorted, “so you are of no use to her. I am actually the only one who can help.”
“You’re being cruel,” Marina shot back. “If you can’t say anything kind, then you should leave.”
For a moment, Letitia looked genuinely startled. She was not used to this sort of treatment—by Marina of all people—but the surprise quickly gave way to anger.
“How touching. Defending your poor, helpless sister,” Letitia sneered. “But you should be prepared to take her place now. Perhaps she can tell you how I like having my room cleaned. It will give you something to make yourself useful for a change.”
With that, she sauntered out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and Marina turned to the seamstress.
“Can you please give me a moment alone with my sister as well?”
The woman nodded and obliged immediately. With her gone, Rachel was left alone with Marina, and she willed herself not to ruin the moment.
Who knows when she might get to see her sister again?
“You didn’t have to say anything to Letitia,” Rachel said softly, approaching. “But thank you for defending me.”
Marina shook her head as a tear ran down her cheek. “Her treatment of you makes me sick. And now, thanks to me, you must wed the duke.”
Rachel stretched out and used the pad of her thumb to sweep the tear from Marina’s cheek. “Let us not discuss that right now. Not today. Today, we focus on happy things.”
Marina blinked. “Pray tell, what is so happy about this situation?’
Rachel opened her mouth, but then found herself pausing, her mind blank. What was so happy about this exactly? Her marriage to a man she barely knew? Leaving Marina behind to endure their father and Letitia alone?
Heavens.
Marina threw up her hands. “Everyone says he’s cold and ruthless. They say he doesn’t care for anyone or anything. And now you’re going to marry him.”
“He is not as bad as they say.”
“Rachel, you’ve met him only once, and that, too, under difficult circumstances.
Why would he reveal himself to you then?
And he’s hardly the type of man who’s forthcoming with his intentions or his emotions.
What if he—” Marina stopped herself before she could complete the sentence.
“I am only saying that it is quite natural for me to be worried about you.”
Rachel hesitated for a moment, thinking back to Simon Linwood’s piercing gaze. He was undeniably intimidating, but cruel? She wasn’t sure.
At least not yet.
“He’s practical,” Rachel said finally. “And he hasn’t been unkind to me. Surely that’s something.”
Marina frowned, her brows drawing together. “Unkind? Is that all it takes? Surely, you deserve more than that. He is to be your husband.”
Rachel managed a small smile, hiding behind it a sadness that she knew all too well. “What I deserve has never been a priority, Marina.”
“Sure, you do not seem to care about whom you end up marrying, but what about him?” Marina’s brow furrowed. “Why would he agree to this at all? He could marry anyone.”
Rachel didn’t have an answer, nor could she lie to herself that it was something that she had thought of already. In fact, the question had been gnawing at her since Simon’s visit, and she suspected it would continue to haunt her even after the wedding.
Why did the Duke of Everly choose to marry her? Was a rumor all that it took?
“I just don’t want you to be unhappy, Rachel.” Marina shifted the topic of conversation slightly. “That is my biggest concern—albeit one of many.”
“You’re the one I’m worried about more,” Rachel retorted. “You heard what Letitia said. Once I’m gone, you’ll be here with them. I worry I won’t be here to protect you anymore.”
“Oh, then I’ll stand up to them,” Marina replied defiantly. “I suppose you’ve taught me that much by now. Oh, I cannot believe that you’ll be wedded off. I will miss you so much.”
The two sisters embraced, but were interrupted by one of the maids.
“Miss Rachel, the viscount wishes to see you in the drawing room. He says it’s urgent.”
A feeling of dread filled her instantly.
“I will be right there.”
The last thing Rachel wanted was a lecture on the day of her own wedding—but she supposed there wasn’t much to be done to avoid it, knowing her father.
“Go on,” Marina said, managing a small smile. “You’ll be a duchess soon. Make him realize that.”
Rachel let out a small laugh at that. “I’ll be sure to.”
Rachel descended the stairs in her gown and paused right in front of the drawing room. She took a deep breath, pushed it open, and stepped inside.
The viscount did not say much at all at first.
“You called for me?” Rachel finally broke the silence.
“And you took your time,” he said coldly.
“I was speaking to Marina,” Rachel replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Always full of excuses, just like your mother was.”
The mention of her mother always struck a nerve.
Usually, she would let it go—to maintain the peace—but today, she simply could not help herself.
“Don’t speak about her like that,” she said.
“Oh?” her father said. “She cannot see you defending her like this—she is long gone. And I am only saying the truth.”
That made Rachel flinch, and her father seemingly appeared to derive some kind of joy out of seeing her like that. “
So naturally, he continued.
“She was a maid with no discipline, no sense of propriety. She snuck her way into this house on her looks alone, and when she was gone, she left nothing but her burdens behind.” He made sure to emphasize the word burdens.
“Mother loved us, which is not something I expect you to understand. But it does not matter; you no longer have to worry about this burden. “
Christopher barked a bitter laugh. “Love doesn’t put food on the table or secure a family’s standing. Your mother thought she could rise above her station, and look how wrong she was. And now, you’re following in her footsteps—trying to entrap someone of a higher status.”
Rachel gritted her teeth, but Christopher was not done yet.
“The duke might tolerate you now, but it won’t last. Men like him don’t waste their time on women like you.”
Rachel wanted to lash out, but she controlled herself. Any reaction would only confirm his words in his eyes.
“You’ve said enough,” she managed to say finally.
“I’ll marry the duke and face whatever comes, but I won’t let you demean her memory.
She was worth more than you’ll ever understand.
Now, if you excuse me, I have things left to attend to before the wedding.
Whether you like it or not, I will be a duchess. ”
With that, she left him standing there.
One thing at a time. She would get through this nightmare.