Page 29 of The Duke's Cursed Bride
“Whatwewanted?”
“Oh, Madeleine, hush. You know this outcome is what’s best for you, though you may be too proud to admit it. Really, you are every bit your father’s daughter.”
This was something Madeleine liked to be told. It made her feel closer to her father. She had even suspected, occasionally, that she might be nurturing her own stubborn, rebellious side because it kept her father alive in her heart. If Uncle Joseph had ever harbored any similar suspicions, though, he had never given voice to them.
“So I’m to be married,” she said.
“It’s what your parents would have wanted for you.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Besides, it means you’ll have the opportunity to plan a wedding. Isn’t that what every young lady dreams of?”
Madeleine had to laugh in spite of her frustration. “You think you know better than I what young ladies dream of?”
“Well, go on then. You tell me.”
Madeleine pretended to think about it. “I dream of an uncle who would allow me the freedom to choose my own future!”
Uncle Joseph laughed, knowing that she hadn’t meant it seriously—which, of course, she hadn’t. None of this was his fault. He couldn’t help it that she was cursed or that the world turned its back on young ladies who didn’t marry quickly. He couldn’t help it that the Duke of Westcourt might be her last chance at any sort of future.
“I dream of staying here with you for the rest of my days,” she said, and that wasn’t meant humorously, but he smiled again anyway.
“You’ll be very happy with him,” he said. “Just think—you’ll be a duchess!”
“I don’t care about that.”
“And I’ll be uncle to a duchess!” He lifted his chin, making a show of putting on airs. “Everyone will seek my attention and my favor.”
Madeleine couldn’t help laughing again. “It’s not as if you’re going to be the Duke yourself, Uncle Joseph,” she said. “It’s still him they’ll go to for attention and favor, not you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Uncle Joseph said. “Everyone will know I have his ear. Everyone who isn’t able to get his attention will know that I’m someone who can, and they’ll want me to use my influence.”
“I suppose that’s why you’re having me marry him, is it?” she teased. “For the power and influence?”
“I’m glad to see you smiling again,” he said.
“It’s not possible to stay unhappy when you say such things,” she admitted.
“Your father used to say just the same thing. Whenever the world was dismal, I’d make a joke to try to bring him out of his mood, and he would usually end up laughing and agreeing with me that things weren’t really so bad.”
“I can’t imagine the Duke ever makes jokes,” Madeleine said. “He seems far too serious for anything like that.”
“He might surprise you,” Uncle Joseph said. “I want you to give him a chance, Madeleine. Everyone deserves a chance. Andyoudeserve a chance to be happy.”
Madeleine didn’t bother explaining to her uncle that she couldn’t try to be happy in this marriage. Finding happiness here carried a risk of growing attached to the Duke, and if that happened, the curse would surely tear him away from her. It was miraculous enough that nothing had happened to Uncle Joseph yet—but perhaps this marriage was enough to satisfy the curse. She was still being forced to leave him before she was ready. Maybe that meant no harm would befall him.
She spent the rest of that day on her own, doing her best not to think about the future she had accepted for herself. It was inevitable now, of course—she would be married to the Duke, and her whole life would be different. She knew she would have to accept that soon enough. But for now, at least, she could pretend that the world was still the same place it had been when she had gotten out of bed yesterday morning.
Still, before getting ready for bed, she found herself standing in front of the looking glass, staring at her reflection and contemplating what the Duke must have thought when he had gotten his first good look at her.
She’d been living with the scar for years now, and even she hadn’t quite gotten used to it—the discoloration, the way the texture of her skin had changed. She pulled at the neck of her gown. The scar continued down her neck and past her collarbone before fading into ordinary, healthy-looking skin.
He hadn’t seen the whole thing. What would he think when he did? Would he pull away from her again? Would he be so shocked that he would decide marrying her had been a mistake? Maybe he would send her back to Uncle Joseph in disgrace. Worse yet, maybe he would decide she should stay with him, but he would tell the rest of thetonhow ugly she was.
Other people knew about her scar, of course. It was part of the reason they mocked her. It was why no one could ever forget about her past, about what had happened to her family. It was as good as having the wordcursedwritten across her forehead.
But it would be different if the Duke despised her. It would make the whole thing much worse, somehow.
