by Bryn Donovan
Colin’s lips quirked up despite his trying to remain stalwart in the face of James’s coarse language. “Come now, James, we were all complicit in that battle. It was a game, and the rock was not well aimed.”
“Aimed well enough to give me a scar,” James groused as he rubbed the small scar that was just barely visible at his hairline.
Colin finished the letter and folded it neatly. “Scars make for fine stories and brave heroes. You should be thankful that you did not have to make war to earn one.”
Colin could see by the look on James’s face as he raised his tumbler to his lips that no amount of words would change his mind on the matter. With a shrug, Colin fetched an envelope out of his desk drawer and wax for sealing. “The fact remains that the man has a good reputation and I need his ships.”
“Deals with the Devil,” James muttered.
His shoulders raised in a helpless shrug. “He has been honest in his dealings with me, and that is all I ask really.”
The week after the announcement of her engagement and looming marriage to the Duke of Richmond was nothing but a blur of emotions that Serena could not deal with and keep her composure. Abigail was as good as her word and stayed by her side, ever ready with a hand to help or a word of comfort. Yet Serena felt it best to hold in all those doubts she felt.
What good would it do to say the words aloud? It would only give a name to the fear. She wanted Abigail to see how important it was to be true and proper to their raising, yet she wished that she could be as Abigail.
To be free to be oneself and to really explore the world was all she wanted. She had been obedient and learned all that was laid before her, but marrying a complete stranger was pushing her too far. Yet she had to do as her parents asked.
“We should take our maids and look at fabrics,” Abigail chirped in an excited voice.
Serena looked over at her sister. She had not expected Abigail to be so invested in the wedding and truly giddy for it. “I suppose we should. It takes time to pick things out and be measured, yet I do not feel as if I can do so today. The past few days we have sorted flowers and tasted cakes. Oh, Adie, I just cannot take any more today.”
They sat outside in the garden, the sun slitting down through the roof of the gazebo where they lounged lazily. Abigail frowned at her. “Normally the bride is most excited about the dress of all the things.”
“I am not most brides, and I am tired.” Serena raised her shoulders in a slight shrug. She relaxed back against the wooden seats, the soft pillows that the maids had placed around them for comfort almost making the spot too warm.
Abigail swung her feet in the air as she eyed Serena. “Do you think the Duke will come here to call on you?”
Serena shook her head, her carefully tamed tresses bouncing in their waves against her forehead. “It is possible, but I do not expect it. He is a busy man from all Mother has said.”
“I imagine a man of his position is often busy.” Abigail did not sound that concerned about it.
She looked down at her own feet, so like Abigail’s but clad in soft boots rather than the slippers that Adie was so prone to frolicking around in as if she were some nature spirit only pretending to be caged in human form. “I suppose you are right.”
“Are you disappointed that you will not get to speak with him much before the wedding?” Abigail leaned forward as she spoke, her hands on the wooden seat beside her as if waiting to launch up into the air.
Serena frowned. “I do not think it really matters if I meet him or not. He is to be my husband regardless.”
“You should sound happier. You let your nerves get the better of you, Serena.” Abigail smiled at her. “Soon you will be swept up in the Duke’s arms, and I am sure that will make you smile once more.”
Despite her misgivings, Serena smiled at her sister. “You make it sound like one of those romance novels that our governess was so fond of, Adie.”
Abigail grinned. “Remember that dashing rogue in the one novel?”
Serena shook her head. “I recall that we got into trouble for reading it when mother found out. She scolded Miss Yates rather harshly over that.”
“Romance is worth all risks,” Abigail assured Serena with a bold smile. “Honestly, you should know that.”
Serena scoffed, fanning herself as the warmth of the day made her satin dress a bit uncomfortable. “Nonsense. You were the one that always had to be pulled out of the poetry books. A lady must be practical was one of the first things we were taught.”
“And here we are.” Abigail grinned. “Practical, reasonable, and lovely ladies … discussing your marriage. Love does not have to be forbidden in that conversation.”
With a wave of her hand to ward off Abigail’s impending waxing on romantic love, Serena replied, “There are many variations of love, Dear Sister. I only hope to achieve warmth of respect and adoration.”
“You aim too low, Sister.” Abigail folded her arms with a look of disapproval. “You marry the very Duke of Richmond, and you only wish for that?”
Serena rolled her eyes. She had heard all the tales of the Duke’s handsomeness, of his fortune, and all the ladies who wished to have her place. “What if he is a monster? What if he is Hades himself?”
“Did not Persephone find love with Hades?” Abigail broke into a smile which Serena could not help returning.
She conceded, “That is true.” Serena stood up. “It really is unseasonably warm for the season, is it not?”
“I think it is more that you choose to dress so layered when we are but out in the garden,” Abigail countered as she stood up as well.
Serena clicked her tongue as she moved a wayward strand of Abigail’s hair behind her ear. The same hair, the same eyes, and yet they were different, were they not? “I do not know what I would do without you, Adie.”
“You shall not have to worry over that.” Abigail wrapped her arms around her.
“Oh, it is far too hot for embraces!” Serena laughed as she fended off Abigail who saw a game and was after it quickly, “Adie!” Serena lifted her skirts and ran as quickly as she could away from her sister who was in pursuit.
“It is a shame that you did not wear your sandals and muslin today, Sister!” Abigail darted along the rows of flowers.
The booming voice of their father rang out across the garden causing Abigail to squeak. “Here now! None of that nonsense!”
The two of them walked back towards the stone patio where their father stood. Serena looked down when her father looked at her, but Abigail did not look the least bit ashamed. “Sorry, Father.” Serena offered no excuse for their actions. There was not one that she could think of to suggest.
Abigail’s voice rang out beside her. “We were just having a bit of fun. It is stressful getting married, and I thought Serena could use a frolic.”
“Intentions aside, it would not be due for either of you to injure yourselves with games that you are far too old to be playing, Abigail.” Serena looked up to meet her father’s stern gaze. He looked between them before he turned and went back inside.
They followed in his wake, their momentary exhilaration turned into solemn regret. He would inform their mother, and that would be yet another scolding they would have to endure. Serena glanced at Abigail who seemed fine with this fate.
Serena certainly wished that she did not mind being scolded as much as Abigail seemed to dismiss it. Was there nothing in the world that Abigail could not conquer with a firm set of her jaw? Serena squared her shoulders and went towards her fate beside her sister.
“I really do like the church.” It was an obvious thing to say, but Abigail felt like she had to speak. They had been to the place where the wedding was to take place with their mother who insisted on having a say in where the flowers for the day would be placed and so on. Her sister was quiet in their carriage as they headed back to the estate for lunch before setting out for the shops yet again.
“Yes.” The one-word reply from Serena was
par for the day. She had mostly nodded along with their mother as the plans for the wedding were laid out.
Abigail rolled her eyes at her sister. “What is the matter with you?”
“What do you mean?” Serena ran her slim fingers over the silky fabric of her dress as if she were smoothing out wrinkles where none were present.
Abigail risked injury to move across to the carriage seat beside her. Their mother had ridden in a carriage by herself as she had a luncheon to attend for some society ladies. At least that was what Abigail thought Mother had said. She had been barely listening as her mother’s social life did not interest her.
“You have barely said anything, and we have been discussing your wedding all day.” Abigail bumped her sister with her elbow. “Come on then. What bothers you so?”
Serena folded her hands over her knees. It was such a dainty movement, yet it held such annoyance that Abigail knew her sister was quite vexed by the question. “There is nothing the matter with me. It is my wedding, and I understand it. I know what I should say and when I should say it. I just want to speak of something—anything else.”
“We could talk of the Duke?” Abigail made the offer with a grin, but it was met with the firmly pressed line of Serena’s lips.
Abigail flopped back in the seat with earnest frustration. “Why would you not want to talk about your future husband?”
Serena’s head went from side to side with a shake that surely should have shamed Abigail but failed to do so. “It is merely speculation. We know little more of him than his striking figure and rumours.”
“Oh, rumours be damned, let us talk about the cut of the man,” Abigail teased as she nudged her sister again.
The corners of Serena’s mouth quirked up into a grudging smile. “You may talk on all the Duke’s features if you wish. I am just so tired of being dragged hither and yonder to be poked and prodded.”
“You have not even been fitted for your wedding dress yet.” Abigail grinned at her sister. “That shall make you feel like a pin cushion, I should say.”
Serena narrowed her eyes at Abigail. “That is not helping, Sister.”
“I merely jest!” Abigail grabbed Serena’s hand, holding it to her as if cradling a child. “Sweet Serena, do you not know that you are the luckiest woman in the world?”
With a light laugh, Serena freed herself from Abigail’s hold. “I would trade it with you if I but could.”
Abigail stared at her sister in shock at the words. “You do not mean that. It is merely what people call cold feet. Do not flee so quickly without thought that you leave your shoes behind, dear Serena. It is a hard road to walk barefoot.”
There was a slump to Serena’s shoulders that Abigail had not seen before that disturbed her greatly. Her sister looked at Abigail, her green eyes matching Abigail’s own. “You are right. I am foolish. I think it is all those years of putting lessons first.”
“Why should that haunt you so? It has gained you a wonderful life. I fear that I regret my truancy.” Abigail was loathed to admit that perhaps her sister had been right all along, but if it helped Serena to overcome these nerves of hers, then it was worth it.
Serena grasped Abigail’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Truth is I fear that all the world I may ever see are the walls of a home or gilded hall.”
“I thought you gave up your brave explorer’s dream?” Abigail recalled when they were very little how Serena would talk of sailing the seas, finding new places. She had not thought of that in years, yet she could see why such a thing would emerge at the prospect of marriage.
Serena nodded her agreement. “I did. It was the responsible thing to do.”
“I suppose it is natural for you to have regrets or doubts at this time about such things.” Abigail frowned. She could understand Serena’s point of view of it, yet she had made a good match. “Surely, you could talk the Duke into travelling?”
Serena unfurled the fan at her wrist and fanned herself. “Was it not you who talked about how busy a man such as the Duke was? Hardly seems conducive to his wanting to travel.”
“Love has a way of making things work, Sister.” Abigail’s words were met with a bright laugh from Serena. She gave her sister a puzzled look. “I had no idea I was so humorous.”
Serena chided, “Oh, Adie, love is a fairy tale. We both know that a woman’s place in this world is merely to garner security for herself and children. Why I lack even the power to choose my own husband.”
Abigail wanted to fight for love, but in the light of truth, her sister’s words were purer. “I guess, I just still hope that perhaps love and duty can coexist.”
“It is not unheard of,” Serena admitted, her fan still blowing air onto her neck, lifting the red waves that fell over her face up.
The air from Serena’s fan hit Abigail as well, and she welcomed it. Having to wear all her appropriate layers today reminded Abigail just how warm the temperature had become. Abigail had always despised that being a proper young lady came with the hefty toll of having to just endure such discomfort for the sake of modesty.
The sisters lapsed into silence. Abigail looked out the carriage windows and pondered the coming nuptials. She was excited for her sister and no small amount envious.
Abigail was only bothered by how disaffected Serena seemed by all of it. She had never seen her sister back down from her duties, yet Serena certainly seemed to be having a hard time swallowing her nervousness. “It will pass, you know? I am sure once you are at the church you will find yourself overcome with joy.”
Serena turned her head towards Abigail. The only response Serena gave was a tight smile that spoke more of forced politeness than actual belief in Abigail’s words. Abigail sighed at her sister.
Things would be better. They would have a bit to eat and go search out the perfect dress fabrics. Perhaps Serena was merely out of sorts due to not having eaten much for breakfast.
Abigail’s hopes that Serena’s mood would improve with a bite to eat were soon proven hollow. Serena was abnormally sullen and quiet during their meal at the estate. When they prepared to head out to the shops yet again, Serena seemed in no hurry at all, even as Abigail was ushering her out to the carriage.
Helping her sister was certainly more difficult than Abigail had expected it to be. At the shop, Abigail made a great show of looking at all the lovely fabrics. “Is this not a glorious one? Feel how soft it is.” Abigail practically pushed the fabric into Serena’s hand.
Serena dutifully felt the material. “It is rather lovely against the skin, but the colour I do not like.”
“It is cream. How can you object to a cream?” Abigail gave a bright laugh. “Sister, I think you would cry nay at the very sun for shining today.”
With a shrug, Serena sighed. “Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow to pick out the fabric for my dress?”
“We have put it off thrice now. Mother said that if we do not return with fabric today that she shall have our hides.” Abigail put her hands on her hips. “Honestly, Serena!”
Serena frowned and walked away to look at another bolt of fabric. Abigail was about to follow her sister when she noticed two ladies standing over at the window displays. She recognised Lady Talbert, and Abigail tried her best to just ignore the two women.
Lady Talbert’s voice drifted over to Abigail. “Do you think this will do? I have someone that I want to impress, and I need a special dress, Emily.”
“I think you could charm a snake in that dress, Rachel,” Emily replied with a sly smile. “Who is your fascination?” Lady Talbert just gave Emily a devious smile as if the woman already knew the answer.
Although Abigail had no reason to think the women were talking about Duke Honeyfield, her instincts whispered that their conspiracy was indeed centred on her Duke. Abigail corrected that to be her sister’s Duke. She was grateful that the two women had not noticed her and her sister.
She was quickly away from the women and over to where Serena had walked around
the corner among some large displays of cloth and dresses. Abigail did not think it right to stress Serena out even more over a feeling, so she kept what she had heard to herself. “Find anything?”
Serena’s shoulders slumped as she turned to meet Abigail’s gaze. “If marrying someone is supposed to bring so much joy, then why do I feel it is so wrong? I cannot get beyond it, Adie. This is wrong.”
“It is just nerves,” Abigail assured her sister. She clasped Serena’s hands in her own. “Please do not despair. I just know that the Duke will be a wonderful husband for you.” The look on Serena’s face broke down the last of Abigail’s resistance to the idea that Serena might be right. Perhaps the wedding should not be if it was causing her sister such turmoil?
Abigail consoled her sister as best as she could. She picked out a fabric for Serena to save them from the wrath of their mother, and they headed home with orders for the tailor to come to their house for fittings due to Serena not feeling well. As they made their way out to the carriage, Abigail whispered to Serena, “I shall tell mother you are ill and have gone to lie down so that you can have some peace.”
“Thank you.” Serena’s voice was subdued and dull compared to its usual lively tones. Abigail let her sister lapse into silence.
At the house, Serena quickly retired, and Abigail went to inform their mother of what they had accomplished. She knocked on the sitting room door, announcing herself, “Mother, it is Abigail.”
“Do come in,” Lady Grey called.
Abigail slipped into the sitting room. She put on a smile as she met her mother’s eyes. “The fabric has been picked out, and the tailor is due by here tomorrow for all the fittings.”
“Why did you not do them today?” Lady Grey arched an eyebrow as she eyed Abigail with sharp eyes.
Abigail lifted her shoulders in a light shrug. “Serena was feeling a bit overwhelmed from everything, and I thought it better for her to rest. The tailor assured us that they would be here promptly tomorrow morning, so little time should be lost.”
Lady Grey nodded as she reached over to pour a bit more tea into her cup. “You surprise me, Abigail. You really have risen to the task of being your sister’s maid of honour.”