Page 2 of A Virgin to Trap the Earl of Thornhill
“Your greatest duty, as the Earl of Thornhill, is to ensure the continuation of the lineage. That requires a wife, William,” she pointed out, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.
Her words hung heavy in the air between them, their implications hitting him like a physical blow. The sense of duty, the weight of responsibility, all of it was suffocating, drowning him in a sea of expectations.
The sound of horse hooves against the cobblestones made him turn his head. He watched as several carriages pulled up in front of the castle, dust billowing up in the air.
“Mother, what is going on? Do we have guests?” he demanded, confusion tingeing his words.
Her smile grew wider. “I have invited some eligible young ladies of the ton and their families to stay with us for a fortnight. It is high time you picked a bride.”
His blood ran cold. “You did what?”
The Countess merely shrugged, her face the picture of innocence. “It is what your father would have wanted.”
The chill that gripped him quickly turned into a raging inferno of anger. His voice, usually calm and composed, was sharp as he said, “I am not going to be a part of this.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the castle, the cool stone against his palm a stark contrast to the heat coursing through his veins. Over his shoulder, he warned, “You may be my mother, but I am the master of this estate. I will not tolerate such meddling.”
And with that, he disappeared into the castle, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind him, its echo reverberating through the silent grounds.
ChapterTwo
Eris stumbled through the dimly lit corridor of Thornhill castle, the air heavy with the scent of polished wood and old books. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribcage. Her breath hitched as she tried to regain some semblance of control. The clamor from downstairs seemed to echo around her, the hushed whispers and delicate clinks of crystal only heightening her sense of alienation. Her gaze flicked to the portraits hanging on the walls, the ancestral faces of the Hudsons watching her with stern, cold eyes. It was almost as if they were judging her, their intense gaze adding to the weight that bore down on her shoulders.
What am I going to do?
Eris thought of her mother’s hopeful gaze, her father’s silent nod of encouragement, and Lily’s empty spot at the dinner table. The vision of her beloved sister, her laughter now a memory and her place replaced by silence, twisted Eris’ heart.
A soft sigh escaped her lips, her fingertips lightly tracing the ornate woodwork of the wall as she navigated the unfamiliar corridor. The world seemed to spin around her, the past, present, and an uncertain future merging into a blur of fear and duty. She needed to find a way out, a solution that wouldn’t cost her everything she held dear. But for now, all she had were questions, each one echoing louder in her mind.
A soft cough pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to find a footman standing by her side. He was a middle-aged man with a head full of graying hair, kind, crinkled eyes, and a crisp uniform. “Are you lost, Miss?” he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze.
Eris chewed her lower lip, her pulse echoing loudly in her ears. The sweet taste of rose-scented balm she had applied earlier tingled on her tongue. “I-I need a quiet place to…” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks warming under the footman’s curious gaze. She winced internally at the uncharacteristic timidity in her voice.
The footman appraised her for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together in thought. “The ladies’ sitting room is quite tranquil at this hour,” he suggested, nodding toward a closed door midway down the grand corridor. It was a perfectly acceptable suggestion under normal circumstances, yet a wave of anxiety swept over Eris at the thought. The risk of running into another guest, another questioning gaze, was too high.
“No, no,” she shook her head, her words coming out rushed and uneven, “Somewhere… somewhere private.” Her plea seemed to pique his interest, and after a moment’s consideration, he acquiesced.
“If privacy is what you seek, Miss,” he started, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. He gestured toward a door at the end of the corridor, slightly ajar. “The Earl’s study is just there. It’s hardly ever used during the day.”
Eris glanced at the indicated door, her breath hitching. The Earl’s study. She didn’t doubt it would be private. Her lips pressed together in consideration as she deliberated the implications. Finally, her desperate need for solitude won over, and she gave the footman a small nod of gratitude before venturing toward the study.
As she pushed the heavy door open, a wave of hushed quiet washed over her. The smell of parchment, ink, and rich mahogany wafted toward her, grounding her as she stepped into the room. The tall bookshelves that lined the walls, the crackling fireplace that filled the room with soft, warm light, and the comfortable-looking armchair that stood by the window. Everything about the room screamed solitude. A breathy laugh escaped her, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. She could finally breathe, finally think without her parents’ expectations looming over her. For the first time since her arrival at Thornhill, Eris felt a hint of peace.
As Eris sank into the plush armchair, her mind could not help but drift back to her sister, Lily. She missed Lily’s laughter, her constant chatter, and the way she would make Eris feel as if she were the most important person in the world. Her sister had always been the sun — bright, warm, and impossible to overlook. Eris, on the other hand, felt more akin to a star flickering in the sky unnoticed.
Eris ran a shaky hand through her hair, the weight of her family’s expectations pressing down on her. She had to save her sister, save their reputation. If she did not secure a match soon, all would be lost. The reminder filled her with a dread that twisted her stomach into knots. She had to succeed, not just for herself, but for Lily as well. But the question that haunted her was, could she do it? Could she become the sun when she had always been a star?
With a heavy sigh, Eris looked down at her gown, once admired in the soft morning light, now a symbol of her discomfort. “Why do they make these gowns so confining?” she muttered to herself, her fingers running over the intricate lace detailing her dress. It was a work of art, this gown, sewn from the finest silk in shades of emerald that made her blue eyes pop and flattered her rosy cheeks. The cut was elegant, highlighting her slim figure and the tall grace she usually took pride in. When she had dressed that morning, her maid, Nanette, had exclaimed that she looked as beautiful as a Greek goddess. Eris had blushed, her heart fluttering at the compliment.
But now, in the study’s stillness, she felt less like a goddess and more like a bird trapped in a cage. The stays were wound so tight she could scarcely breathe, the beautiful silk dress more of a hindrance than an ornament. The more she thought about it, the more she felt the stays pressing into her, the laces digging into her skin, making it itch.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Eris grumbled, her hands moving to the back of her gown. She tried to reach for the laces but found it a challenge with the gown’s cut. She grunted, struggling for a few moments before she let out a triumphant ‘aha!’ and started to loosen her stays. With every tug, she felt the constriction lessen, her lungs greedily sucking in the air they had been denied.
A small giggle escaped her lips as she thought of what Nanette would say if she saw her now. The image of the Greek goddess seemed laughable now as she fumbled with the laces, feeling more like a clumsy mortal with every passing second.The thought brought a sense of absurdity to her plight. The laughter served as a momentary reprieve from her chaotic thoughts.
She paused, holding the image of Nanette in her mind’s eye, and a pang of longing twisted in her chest. Oh, how Lily would have loved this scene. Her older sister, with her infectious laughter and wicked sense of humor, would have found great amusement in the spectacle. The memory of her sister’s laughter echoed in her mind, causing a bittersweet smile to tug at Eris’ lips.
But as quickly as the nostalgia washed over her so too did a rush of resentment. Lily, with her reckless love affair, had thrust Eris into this predicament. With Lily’s unfortunate circumstances, the burden of securing their family’s future had been unfairly placed on Eris’ shoulders. She could feel a coil of anger beginning to tighten within her, an emotion she rarely directed at her beloved sister.
