Page 1 of A Cursed Bride for the Duke
Prologue
FOUR YEARS AGO
“Oh, heavens!” Lady Hindport exclaimed worriedly as she peered out the drawing room window. Rain lashed against the glass, blurring the world outside into a swirling grey mass. “It is absolutelypouring.”
Genevieve, her eldest daughter, barely spared a glance for the tempest raging beyond the windowpane.
“It is merely a bit of rain, Mother,” she declared, her voice ringing out like a silver bell in the dimly lit room. “We must hurry, or we shall miss the opening!”
A flicker of a smile graced Lady Hindport’s lips. “It may be wiser to wait until the storm dies down, Genevieve.”
“But this is the first ball of the Season,” Genevieve persisted, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. “Besides, Rosaline and Sophia are awaiting our signal so that we can arrive together! If we delay,that will also cause them to be late. I would hate to disappoint them after promising them that we would arrive together.”
“Oh, please, Mama!” Her younger sister, Mary, clasped her hands together pleadingly, her eyes wide. “The rain only adds to the excitement!”
“And I am most eager to show off my new gown,” chimed in Emma, Mary’s twin, doing a little twirl, the pale pink silk of her dress swirling around her.
Lady Hindport sighed, her gaze drifting to the dark sky beyond the window. “Very well, let us wait for your father. He should be downstairs at any moment.”
Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. The door swung open, and Lord Hindport strode into the drawing room, fully dressed for the evening, a triumphant smile playing on his lips.
“I hear my girls are ready for the night! What is this talk of rain, my dear Eleanor? We are not made of sugar. We shall endure.”
“Mama worries about the storm, but I am sure it will stop as soon as we are on our way,” Genevieve said, her voice lilting.
Her father chuckled. “Then why are we delaying? After all, we have a ball to attend!”
The girls eagerly grabbed their cloaks and hurried towards the carriage, their laughter drowned out by the drumming rain.
Lord Hindport helped Lady Hindport inside, and they all bundled up in the carriage, the familiar smell of leather and varnish wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
The rain pounded down relentlessly on the roof of their carriage, the sound becoming a steady roar.
“See?” Genevieve said, peering out at the rain-drenched streets. “It merely adds to the adventure!”
Mary looked out with wide eyes, her fingers clutching Genevieve’s arm. “It… it is so dark. Do you truly believe that the storm will cease soon?”
Genevieve squeezed her sister’s hand reassuringly. “Of course!”
The carriage moved forward, passing shadowed mansions with candlelit windows that flickered in the encroaching darkness.
“Oh, look! There is Rosaline’s carriage,” Genevieve exclaimed, spotting it through the downpour. “They must have seen us. Sophia’s carriage must be close behind.”
“Hold tight, girls!” their father called, turning his head towards them. “We shall arrive at the party shortly!”
The horses galloped along the rain-slicked cobblestone street as shadows danced in the flickering streetlights, extending ghostly fingers towards the carriage. The sound of the rain grew deafening, a wild symphony that swallowed the girls’ voices and laughter.
Lord Hindport furrowed his brow. He could barely make out the path.
“Look at the trees!” Emma pointed out the window, staring at the dark shapes thrashing in the wind.
“It is from the force of the squall,” Genevieve replied as her pulse quickened. “How much longer, Papa?”
“Only a little longer,” Lord Hindport assured her distractedly, but his gaze was locked onto the impenetrable, seething mass that lay ahead of them.
Lady Hindport gripped Mary’s shoulder tightly, causing her to wince in discomfort.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated their faces, revealing the collective apprehension in their eyes. A deafening crack of thunder shook the air. Genevieve’s heart raced as she looked at her father, whose face had turned ghostly pale.
