Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The following week passed in a blur.
As the Duke procured the special license that would see them both married, Arabella was sent back to her home, forced to spend the week with her father. She expected him to be angry with her. She expected him to be petty and cruel. What she was given instead was indifference.
At first, Arabella assumed that he was biding his time.
She remembered how powerless he had seemed in the face of the Duke and the Dowager, how humiliated also, and she had no doubt that he blamed her for it.
What was more, she figured that he would want to remind her that even though she was set to leave him, he still owned her.
Oddly, such behavior never occurred.
Her father avoided her. He hardly spoke to her when they were in the same room. And while she was certain that it was her imagination, it was almost as if he feared her.
Perhaps not me, but my husband-to-be.
While Arabella was still uncertain about her marriage and what was to become of it, she decided that the positives outweighed that sense of unknowing.
And as the week stretched on and her father continued to avoid her, she found a sense of strength building inside that she had not known she was capable of feeling.
That was until the night before the wedding ceremony arrived.
She had just finished eating supper when her father’s steward asked her to see him in his study. It was the first time her father had sent for her all week, the first proper talk they would have, and she could not guess what he might want.
But Arabella was feeling confident. She knew that, come tomorrow, she would be free of his clutches once and for all. There was nothing more he could do to her, so she went to his study with that same feeling of bravery and confidence that had steadily built all week.
Typically, it lasted all of ten seconds because no sooner did she take a step inside of her father’s study than Arabella was reminded of the man who had raised her, why she feared him so, and why he would never fully release her from his grasp.
The study was dim; a single lantern sat on the edge of his desk, and her father leaned back so its light would not reach him.
The room was cold as well, and she started trembling once the door closed.
Through the darkness, her father’s glare felt as if he had reached out and wrapped a hand around her throat.
“So, tomorrow is the big day,” he said, his voice a low rumble like a storm building on the horizon.
“It is.” Arabella stood as tall as she could, trying desperately to shake off the fear that slowly built inside of her.
“Are you looking forward to it?”
“I am,” she said without hesitation. Even if she was still conflicted in her feelings, she needed her father to believe that she wanted it.
“I bet you are,” he scoffed. “Oh, I am sure that you are so pleased with how things have worked out for you. Who would have ever guessed? A duke, soon to be your husband. How quickly one’s fortunes change.”
“His Grace is… He is kind,” she said, her voice cracking. “And I believe he means well by me. I have no reason to think differently.”
“That is because you are a fool,” he snapped.
“You believe he is saving you, that he is doing right by you. As you believe this makes him trustworthy. But know this…” He leaned forward so that the orange glow of the lantern found his twisted face.
“The Duke is not as he says. You think I am someone to fear?” He laughed. “Just you wait.”
His warning was not unexpected, but that did not mean Arabella could ignore it completely. She knew so little of the Duke, aside from what she had seen herself. And while she now understood the real reason he had married her, it did not mean there were not other reasons she was not aware of.
“I…” She swallowed. “I have no reason to think that His Grace is anything but good. He helped me when he did not have to.”
“Helped you?” her father laughed further.
“Oh yes, the victim. You were always rather talented at feeling sorry for yourself. And yet, you never did realize that I am the one who has suffered. That I…” He caught his words, clenched his jaw, and took a rattled breath.
“You might be marrying the Duke, girl, but you are still my daughter.”
“I am aware,” she said with a sneer that she could not help.
Her father just laughed. “Perhaps he will be good to you. Perhaps you will be happy with him. Perhaps…” A shake of the head. “Regardless of what comes, you are to remember where you came from. As you are to remember all that I have done for you.”
Oh, how she wanted to tell her father exactly what she was thinking. How she wished to tell him that she hated him, that she could not wait to be free, and that the moment she was married, she would never think about him again.
However, she was still his daughter, still trapped by a lifetime of control and fear, and still struggled to see him as anything other than her master. He who had controlled and bullied her for as long as she could remember.
“I will not forget it,” she said, her stare cold so that she hoped he knew how she felt. “Believe me when I tell you that.”
He scoffed. “Good. That is why I wished to speak to you. Not to wish you well. Not to give you my blessings. But to remind you of your place.” He leaned further forward, folding his hands on the table.
“You know as well as I do the current state of my fortune. How…” He grimaced. “How lacking it is.”
“It has been hard to forget.”
“It will not be forever,” he said sharply. “And now that you are set to marry a man of such wealth and prestige, I expect you to remember where you came from, and what I am owed.”
Arabella leaned back. “I… I do not understand…”
“I will be watching you, Arabella,” he said darkly.
“I will be waiting. If you think that this marriage is some sort of freedom, think again. A time will come when you will repay me for all that I have done. And if you think to warn His Grace or…” He sneered.
“Or if you think that he will protect you from me, think again. You are my daughter, and this marriage changes nothing.”
“Father, I… I do not know what you are saying.”
“I think that you do,” he said simply. “Just as I think that you know, deep down, that there is nothing you can do to stop me. I still own you, Arabella, and do not dare to think otherwise.”
It had been too good to be true. All week, the feigned belief that Arabella could change so much, and that her father might finally see it. In reality, he had been doing exactly what she expected from the beginning. Lying in wait… Planning, plotting, his sights forever set on how he could use her.
Again, she felt that sudden urge to stand up to him.
Again, she tried to find that bravery she felt when she was in the Duke’s presence.
But he was not there with her; she was just a little girl facing her father’s wrath, and there was little she could do to convince herself that his threats could be ignored.
I am not so brave… I am not so confident… I am certainly not free.
“You will see that I am right,” her father continued. “About the Duke and about this marriage. The Duke does not care for you, as I have always done. You may hate me, but I have never lied to you, girl. Remember that.”
Could it be true? Was her father right about the Duke? She could not believe it. She refused to. And yet, as hard as she tried to dismiss his words, she could not escape the fact that she did not know the Duke nearly as well as she wanted to.
“That will be all.” He waved her away. “Think on what I have said, Arabella. And remember, I will be watching, always.”
She turned and fled the study without another word.
Then, she hurried to her room, slammed the door closed, and collapsed against the wall as her body trembled and her breathing turned heavy and painful. The walls turned. The ceiling fell. The floor rose. And never had she felt so weak.
Her wedding was tomorrow. After that, she would become a duchess. But where she had truly believed that she would find freedom in her marriage, she could not escape the reality of her world and her past.
She was a fool, and she would never be free. And her father, as had been the case for as long as she could remember, always got what he wanted. Her marriage was not an escape, but a different type of prison, and her father still held the keys.