Chapter 3 Scarlett
SCARLETT
Gray water batters the rocky shore below.
Large swells hit the sides of the cliffs with loud, thunderous claps. Overhead, heavy rain clouds pollute the sky. The sun will not appear for this union today.
Jagged rocks stretch up between the waves like fingers, urging me towards them.
The only thing preventing me from jumping into their outstretched hands is my father’s iron grip on my arm.
Dressed in his finery, the golden buttons of his jacket sparkle.
His leather shoes have been meticulously polished.
Earl Richard will always be a vain man. His unrelenting conceit drips from every line of his body.
My mother remains on my other side as stiff as a board.
There is a paleness in her cheeks that I haven’t seen in some time.
Her steely blue eyes remain forward as she stays silent.
There are no words of encouragement to be bestowed on her only daughter’s wedding day.
No discussion of what to expect inside my wedding bed.
Though there was no need for that, Earl Bram was not receiving the virgin bride he was promised.
Nor did I have any intention of making it that far into our union.
The white gown I had been forced into was adorned with lace and satin.
Delicate sleeves encased my arms, hiding any previous injuries and just how frail I’d become.
Just as the seamstress had suggested, padding had been added along my hips and chest, giving the illusion of the figure I once had.
The double corset I had on was nearly rib-breaking, but I managed with shallow breaths.
The pain barely registered as it complemented the perpetual hell I have been in. One final insult was laid when a bow was tied around my neck as if encasing a lamb you intended to slaughter in wrapping paper. I was not a gift to the duke and his son. I was a means to an end.
I keep my head straight as we walk the short distance to meet my betrothed and his father.
A priest stands clutching a leather-bound book to his chest, his white robes pristine.
He is a beacon of light against the dark rocks surrounding us.
Further down the cliff is Darkwood Castle, a place I would never set foot in if my plan went off without a hitch.
The duke and his son survey me. I meet their stares with nothing but contempt in my eyes.
He was there that night, Earl Bram. The hilt of his dagger protruding from my lover’s back.
The same ornate handle hangs from his hip now.
Had he used it to cleave his head from his shoulders as well?
Or was the sword dangling from his other hip the culprit of that particular crime?
I want to vomit at the sight of him, but my empty stomach will not allow it. In this moment, my decision is made. I will take him with me over the edge. My ending and my vengeance for him culminate in one rash act of defiance.
The duke looks me over with displeasure while Bram merely looks bored.
It fits with his reputation. Even if I had wanted to marry him, our union would be dreadful.
His reputation as a blackguard was well known.
His loyalty to me would wane within a fortnight, if not the moment after his martial duties were completed.
Earl Bram has a short attention span; he likes his pleasure immediate and varied.
I would’ve shared him with countless mistresses. In a way, I guess I’m saving us both from that sinful fate.
Bram, with his dark hair and crystal blue eyes, is handsome.
He was long of leg and strong of limb—yet not even a pretty face could hide the monster he truly was.
Only someone capable of true evil would’ve done what he did.
The glint in his eye is the only hint at his true nature.
I see him for what he is, and that slows my steps along the path.
My father growls low in his throat, jerking me forward.
“Behave,” he snaps. “If only you had done as you were told. This would’ve all gone a lot smoother.”
His words set my teeth on edge. After weeks of feeling nothing, I welcome the anger and let it loosen my tongue.
“I won’t be your problem soon,” I spit.
It is the first time I’ve spoken in weeks. My father hides his shock well. Even I am surprised by the feral nature of my voice. I don’t have to turn around to know that my mother has turned even paler.
“Once this is done. It’s done.”
My father rears back, opens his mouth to speak before thinking better of whatever retort he was about to give. His head dips in a sharp nod as he pulls me more forcefully to the figures awaiting us.
A simple altar is erected at the beginning of the jagged cliff.
The duke and his son stand at one side of the priest. Darkwood Castle looms far behind them, haunting this already macabre wedding scene.
Below us, the waves continue to crash, echoing with the force of a thousand claps of thunder.
Try as I might, I can’t stop myself from glancing over to the left.
The Whispering Woods conceal anything inside them. The thick treeline is dark; no light penetrates through the dense foliage. Even still, I catch whispers on the wind rising over the waves. The voices are soft and disjointed. Begging me closer and warning me to keep out all at once.
A shiver runs through me as I ignore their urgings. I will not set foot in that place again. The last time I was there, I saw him. My father had wanted me to know what had become of him.
The memory of it makes me sick, but I cannot stop myself from recalling the vision of him. How broken his body had been. My father had placed his head beside his neck as a courtesy to me, but I saw it for what it was—the death of all my hopes and dreams. My future was killed that night.
His eyes were open and milky. Their shining green irises were dim.
Dirt covered his exposed skin and clung to his clothes.
There was no color on his freckled cheeks.
His calloused hands were cold to the touch.
I had fallen atop his unmoving chest and sobbed until I was sick.
My father had loomed above me, disgusted by my display over someone he deemed not worthy of it.
For he may not have killed him, but he didn’t stop it either.
“If only you had done what you were told. This would’ve all been a lot simpler.”
Our steps slow in front of the altar. The duke's eyes appraise each of us individually. Earl Bram’s lips tilt down.
“She looks paler than before.”
The earl’s frank condemnation adds another nail to his coffin.
My father chuckles heartily, urging me forward with a harsh push.
“We’ve just been keeping her inside. Didn’t want any accidents before the big day.”
The duke’s dark eyes narrow.
“And have there been? Accidents?”
My father’s laughter ceases, his eyes narrowing in return.
“Nothing that a firm hand and watchful eye won’t prevent.”
Duke Marc of Greenbrooke considers my father’s words for a moment. He runs a long, fingered hand along his short white beard. He is dressed in silver and gold with not a hair out of place. He is older than my father but hardly looks it. After a tense moment, the duke nods sharply.
“We will keep an eye on her until a son is born—perhaps even two. Then we will have no need for her or her melancholic state. In the meantime,” the duke pauses, nodding to his nearby guards stationed behind them.
Two men grunt as they lift a heavy chest and drag it over to my father.
The hinges squeal as the lid opens, and the sight of unimaginable wealth greets my eyes.
There must be thousands of gold coins in there.
Jewels of all sizes and colors glow from within.
My father is practically salivating over the riches.
At the top lies a piece of parchment sealed with the house crest of Greenbrooke. My father’s smile widens as he reads it over, beady eyes lifting to the duke’s for confirmation. The other man inclines his head.
“Congratulations on your new title and lands, Richard. She better be worth all of this.”
If he weren’t so wretched, I’d almost feel bad that this union won’t last until the wedding feast. I will have my revenge on Earl Bram, and my only regret is that I couldn’t ensure my father’s demise as well.
His lands and title will die with him. That is my only solace.
The two guards heft the chest onto my parents’ carriage. With one final nod, my father collects my mother by the arm and turns them both away. I try to catch my mother’s eye, but it is no use. If there was any remorse in her gaze, she’s hidden it well.
“You aren’t staying for the vows?” Duke Marc calls out as my mother steps into the carriage.
My father laughs, then shakes his head.
“I have what I came for. She’s your problem now.” His eyes harden on me one last time. “Do with her as you please.”
Without another word, my father glides inside the carriage, and it pulls away. The train of my wedding dress blows behind me in the salty breeze. Briny air coats my skin, causing goosebumps to break out. This is it then. I’ll never see my parents again.
In the end, at least my father was truthful.
A problem is all I was to them. I was not a boy who could inherit the lands.
I was a girl—headstrong and wily, who had ruined herself with someone far below her station.
It did not matter if I loved him. It did not matter that I would not take one coin of my father’s wealth if only he had given me the freedom to be with my love.
My only value was in this betrothal. I am the only noble bride for miles. If the duke and his son had any hope for legitimate heirs, they needed to secure my hand. No matter if it was given without my consent.