Chapter 14 #2
“Only because experience suggests it is a useful measure,” Hannah replied.
Seraphine laughed softly as the sisters exchanged triumphant smiles across the table.
Then, she accepted her cards. The easy banter immediately relaxed her.
Around the table, the game resumed, accompanied by cheerful accusations of cheating and dramatic complaints whenever someone lost a hand.
It was all wonderfully normal. For a brief period, she almost managed to forget the weight hanging over her shoulders. Almost.
Lady Branson studied her thoughtfully over the rim of her spectacles.
“Tell us, Lady Seraphine,” she said as she laid down a card. “What do you think of the prospects here?”
Seraphine blinked. “The prospects?”
“The gentlemen,” Katherine clarified.
“The house party is nearly over,” Hannah added. “Soon we shall all be returning to London.”
Lady Branson nodded sagely. “Which means it is time to take stock.”
Seraphine suddenly wished she had remained with Thalia and avoided this conversation altogether.
The three women looked at her expectantly.
Their curiosity was entirely innocent, yet she felt unexpectedly trapped beneath it.
Everyone at Amberhall seemed to assume that matchmaking was a pleasant diversion.
None of them knew that for her it felt alarmingly close to a necessity.
None of them knew about William's deadline.
None of them knew that every passing day brought her closer to losing her home.
She forced a pleasant smile and carefully arranged her cards in her hands, pretending to consider her next move rather than the question. The edges of the cards suddenly seemed fascinating.
“The gentlemen have all been very agreeable,” she said.
Lady Branson laid down a card with deliberate slowness. Across the table, Katherine and Hannah exchanged identical expressions of expectation.
Three pairs of eyes remained fixed upon her. Waiting. Expecting more. Seraphine resisted the urge to squirm beneath their scrutiny. Instead, she lowered her gaze and examined her cards with exaggerated concentration, as though the fate of the kingdom depended upon her next hand.
“...and they have all been very polite and dance quite well,” she continued after a moment.
The silence that followed stretched noticeably longer than before. Somewhere nearby, another group of ladies burst into laughter, but at their table no one spoke.
Lady Branson's eyebrows rose so high they nearly disappeared. “That is all?”
Seraphine selected a card and placed it neatly upon the table before looking up again. “That is all.”
Katherine exchanged a look with Hannah. Hannah's lips twitched.
She knows I am being evasive.
Unfortunately, that deduction was entirely correct.
Seraphine could practically feel the disbelief settling around the table.
She took a sip of tea to avoid saying anything further and silently prayed that someone would change the subject before the other ladies began naming eligible bachelors one by one.
The conversation moved on eventually, but the damage had already been done.
Simply being reminded that the party would soon end sent a familiar wave of dread through her.
She stared down at her cards without truly seeing them.
Every gentleman she had met at Amberhall Manor was agreeable.
Some were kind. Some were handsome. Some possessed excellent fortunes.
Yet none of them solved the problem sitting heavily in her chest.
The deadline remained. One month. Less than one month now.
Yet not one of these men could make me bear the thought of being married to them, even to escape from the abbey.
The thought made her stomach twist unpleasantly.
As the game continued around her, Seraphine found herself growing increasingly distracted.
Lady Branson won two hands in succession and received enthusiastic congratulations.
Hannah launched into a dramatic retelling of an embarrassing incident involving a puppy and a visiting baron.
Everyone laughed. Seraphine smiled when appropriate, but her mind had drifted elsewhere.
She kept seeing William's smug face. She kept hearing his cheerful voice informing her that the abbey would be waiting.
A nun.
The very idea made her want to scream. Not because she objected to religion. Because she objected to being forced into a life she had not chosen.
She suddenly felt as though the walls of the parlor were closing in around her.
“Lady Seraphine?”
The sound of her name cut through the fog of her thoughts.
Seraphine blinked and looked up from her cards, realizing that all three women were watching her with varying degrees of concern. She had apparently been staring at the same hand for far longer than was socially acceptable.
“Forgive me,” she said quickly, setting her cards into a neat stack. “I fear I have become distracted.”
Lady Branson's expression softened at once. She leaned forward slightly, studying Seraphine's face with the practiced eye of a woman who had raised daughters. “You look rather pale, my dear.”
Instinctively, Seraphine lifted a hand to her cheek as though she might somehow verify the claim for herself. “I am perfectly well.”
The older woman hummed in a manner that suggested she believed no such thing.
Beside her, Katherine tilted her head. “You have hardly spoken for the last ten minutes.”
“Which is most unlike you,” Hannah added with a teasing smile. “Usually you are far better company than this.”
A reluctant laugh escaped Seraphine. “I shall endeavor to improve.”
“See that you do,” Hannah replied solemnly.
Lady Branson continued to regard her with gentle suspicion. Seraphine suddenly felt the need to escape before any of them asked another question she could not comfortably answer. She carefully placed her cards upon the table and pushed back her chair.
“If you will excuse me,” she said, smoothing her skirts as she rose, “I believe I should like a little fresh air.”
No one objected. In fact, Lady Branson looked faintly relieved. “You should take some.”
“And perhaps avoid thinking so hard,” Hannah advised, pointing a card at her as though issuing a formal command. “The task seems to have exhausted you.”
“It has,” Seraphine admitted with a faint smile.
The ladies laughed, and she used the opportunity to make her escape.
Once outside the parlor, she released a breath she had not realized she had been holding.
The corridors felt quieter than before. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating polished floors and elegant paintings.
Normally she enjoyed house parties immensely.
Today, however, the Society seemed to serve only as a reminder that her time here was nearly finished.
The thought followed her all the way to the terrace. Stepping outside, she immediately welcomed the cool afternoon air. A gentle breeze stirred the flower beds and carried the scent of roses across the gardens.
What am I supposed to do? I cannot marry simply for the sake of marrying. Can I?
Not after hearing Thalia speak of happiness. Not after realizing what she would be sacrificing.
Most frustrating of all, she could not stop comparing every gentleman she met to a certain infuriating Duke. A duke who had refused her proposal. A duke who kissed her one evening and acted perfectly normal the next. A duke she was trying hard not to think about.
No, I must adhere to my original plan. Marry anyone I find appropriate enough and settle down as I should. Love, desire, and happiness should have nothing to do with my decision.