Page 44 of A Virgin for the Forbidden Duke

Agnes met her mother’s gaze with determination. “Mother, I’ve made up my mind. I see something in the Duke that others do not. I would appreciate your understanding and support in this matter.”

The room remained tense, the unspoken clash of expectations echoing in the air as Agnes awaited her mother’s response.

Mary’s face reflected a mix of concern and disapproval, her eyes darting between Agnes and her father, seeking an ally in her attempt to dissuade Agnes from pursuing the Duke of Huntington.

“Agnes, you cannot be serious about pursuing this. It will only bring scandal to our family,” Mary reiterated, her tone firm.

Agnes felt the frustration welling up within her. “Mother, you cannot dismiss someone based on rumors and hearsay. The Duke is not as the ton portrays him. He has layers, depth that others fail to see.”

Mary’s features tightened, her disapproval evident. “Agnes, I will not allow you to jeopardize your future by associating with a man of such questionable character. The ton will never accept it, and it will ruin your chances for a respectable match.”

The battle lines were drawn, and Agnes felt a surge of rebellion. “Mother, I am not a pawn to be moved around for the sake of societal approval. I have feelings, desires, and the right to choose the path that makes me happy.”

Mary’s eyes widened with a mix of shock and disbelief. “Happy? Agnes, happiness often comes at a cost. You should be practical, considerate of your family’s reputation.”

Agnes clenched her fists, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Mother, you’ve always pushed me to find a suitor, and now that I have, you reject him without even giving him a chance. It’s unfair.”

Mary’s patience wore thin. “Agnes, I will not entertain the idea of you being involved with the Duke. It’s simply unacceptable.”

A spark of defiance ignited in Agnes’s eyes. “And why, Mother? Why is it unacceptable? Because of baseless rumors? Because of the ton’s narrow-minded judgments? I won’t live my life according to their dictates.”

The tension escalated, and Agnes and her mother locked gazes in a silent battle of wills.

“Agnes, we must think of the family’s reputation. You can’t be selfish in matters like these.”

Agnes’s frustration reached its peak. “Selfish? Mother, I am asking for understanding, for support in my happiness. Is that too much to ask?”

The room held its collective breath as mother and daughter stood at an impasse, the clash of generations and societal norms reverberating in the air.

Agnes’s frustration reached its peak. “Is that too much to ask, Mother?”

Mary’s expression remained stern, unyielding, as if carved from stone. The atmosphere thickened with tension, and Agnes felt the weight of her mother’s expectations pressing down on her.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Agnes erupted. “It’s not my fault Rose is… unwell!” The words slipped out, charged with the pain of a hidden truth.

Her eyes widened, realizing she had said something she shouldn’t have. Especially when her mother and father had done all they could to ensure she never brought up that matter.

Her father’s stern gaze bored into her, disappointment etched across his face. “Agnes, such words are unwarranted. You should be ashamed.”

Agnes, her heart pounding, attempted to backtrack. “Father, I didn’t mean to—”

Her father interrupted her, his voice stern. “We cannot afford to let anything tarnish the family’s reputation. It is your duty, Agnes, to make the perfect match and protect our name. Be mindful of the consequences of your words and actions.”

Overwhelmed by the injustice of her situation, Agnes fled the dining room, her heart heavy with the weight of familial expectations. The stairs seemed steeper than usual as she ascended to her chambers, the echoes of her parents’ words lingering in the air like a haunting refrain.

Before retreating to her own solitude, Agnes found herself standing outside her sister’s closed door. A surge of anger, fueled by her frustration at her own predicament, welled up within her. With unbridled emotion, she began to bang on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet corridor.

“Why, Rose? Why did you have to do this to us?” Agnes’s voice trembled with a mix of resentment and desperation.

Agnes, overwhelmed, found herself collapsing against her sister’s door. As her sobs echoed through the corridor, she couldn’t escape the suffocating reality of her circumstances.

The walls seemed to close in in her, reflecting the confines of a world that demanded sacrifices for the sake of reputation.

The door, once a symbol of sisterly connection, now bore the brunt of Agnes’s frustration. Each slam mirrored the unspoken anguish that permeated her heart. At that moment, she let go of the composed facade she often wore in public, allowing the floodgates of her emotions to open.

She blamed Rose, not just for her choices, but for the chains that bound Agnes to an existence dictated by the expectations of others. The tears flowed freely, carrying with them the weight of unfulfilled dreams and the burden of maintaining a facade that hid the true desires of her heart.

The cold floor beneath her seemed to absorb the warmth of her despair as she crumpled into a heap, her sobs a symphony of heartache and frustration. She felt the sting of injustice, the cruel reality that the pursuit of personal happiness came at the cost of tarnishing the family name.

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