Page 49 of Healing the Duke's Desires
Only, Emily wasn’t allowed to get lost in the depth of Alexander’s eyes because she immediately noticed that her father and the marquess were approaching them hastily, almost sensing that she was becoming lost to them in every way a woman was to be lost to a man.
Her heart sank even deeper as she glanced at her father, who wore an expectant smile, clearly pleased with the way the way the entire conversation had ended and the arrangement he had orchestrated, not even stopping to think at what cost he had done so.
She was still well aware that this union was intended to secure their place in society, and this made her even more enraged that her love would be taken away from her at the cost of comfort and social standing.
The marquess extended his hand toward her, a falsely charming smile on his lips. “Lady Emily,” he asked, in a voice that dripped insincere courtesy. “May I have this dance?”
No! No! Absolutely not!
She wanted to rush over to Alexander and speak to him, explain to him that they had stumbled upon something rare, something that not many people could boast and that was the hand of fate beckoning them toward true love. They were merely frightened of everything, but they needn’t be. She was so desperate to tell him all this, but now was not the right time. She still had to play the game others had weaved around her.
Your time will come,she reminded herself, for the time being deciding to oblige her father and pretend she was still going along with his plans of marriage.
Emily hesitated, her fingers trembling as they grazed his hand. She couldn’t bear the thought of being near him, of being bound to him for the rest of her life. How could her father even consider such an unfair arrangement? She reminded herself that this was not final. Not at all. With a forced smile of her own, she placed her hand in his, accepting his invitation with a curt nod.
Her heart raced, a mix of dread and resignation swirling within her. As the marquess led her onto the dance floor, she tried to hide her discomfort behind a polite smile. The scent of his overpowering cologne and the leering look in his eyes made her stomach churn.
The marquess’ grip tightened on her waist, his fingers digging into her dress as they moved together. Emily’s gaze was distant, her thoughts a jumble of frustration and resentment. She stole a glance at her father, who watched the scene with an air of satisfaction that only fueled her resentment further. What made this even worse was the fact that she knew that Alexander was watching. It was him she would rather be dancing with, not the marquess.
“You look lovely,” he told her as he leaned close, a bit too close for comfort.
“Thank you,” she managed to muster. This dance felt like a cruel charade, a display of power and control executed by her father that she was now forced to endure. More and more, she was becoming reluctant to comply with what others demanded of her, stifling her own inner voice, her own feelings and thoughts.
“We shall share the news of our betrothal as soon as tomorrow,” he told her, and it was a reminder of something she would rather forget.
She forced herself to meet his gaze with resignation. She would do everything in her power to make sure that this didn’t happen. None of it.
“Yes, tomorrow,” she nodded obediently, knowing that refusing anything at this point would only raise the marquess’ suspicion.
“I want everyone to know that you are to become my wife.”
If she hadn’t met Alexander, Emily wouldn’t be able to shake the feeling of impending doom that would surely settle down upon her. This would have been the final nail in the coffin of her dreams.
But instead of feeling broken, she felt alive once again, knowing that the man she loved, the man whose existence occupied her entire heart, was standing in this same ballroom, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was certain he felt the same way about her. The only thing she had to prove to him was that it was all right to be afraid, that they could be afraid together and make each other whole again.
“I can understand that,” she said, defiance flaring up inside of her. “But… why this insistence on me becoming your wife?”
He wasn’t expecting this. It was obvious to them both. She decided to keep hold of the control this allowed her for as long as she could.
“I mean, you could marry any lady here.” She looked around as she spoke. “Why me of all of them?”
He hesitated for a moment, then he grinned. “Do I need a reason to want to marry you? Isn’t marriage itself reason enough?”
She smiled back boldly. “A woman likes to know she is loved, wanted, treasured.” He felt none of these things for her, and she wanted him to be fully aware of the fact that she knew everything. She might be half his age, but she was not going to allow him or her father to convince her that this marriage was her fate, her happiness.
“You read too many books, my dear,” he taunted her.
She tilted her head as she twirled. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”
“A woman’s mind is like fire,” he told her, revealing everything she needed to know about him as a man. “It needs to be kept under control, if she is to do her duty well. Once out of control, she… consumes everything.”
Emily understood this better than she wanted to. Marriage to this man would be a prison sentence. Nothing short of it.
“Fortunately,” he continued, taking her silence as his cue to keep talking, “my age allows me the wisdom to guide a young woman in the right direction.”
Not this woman,her mind snarled back at him, but her tongue was well-behaved. It had to be, at least for the time being.
“I am certain that is the case,” she acquiesced, promising herself that she would rather die than allow this man to chain her with a wedding band.
