Page 12 of Healing the Duke's Desires
Emily doubted that he would be worthy in their father’s eyes. Namely, the young man in question had no title, and according to their father, that made someone an undesirable husband. A title was something one should strive for, a title higher than the one that someone was already in possession of.
“He is so handsome,” Sarah gushed, pressing her hands to her chest so that she almost soiled her gown with her paintbrush. She didn’t even notice it until their mother pointed it out. “Oh, how silly of me.” Sarah chuckled. “I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment there.”
Emily couldn’t help but smile, and even be a little envious of how her sister was feeling. She had hoped for those same things as well, that she would meet someone who would sweep her off her feet, that they would have a whirlwind romance and eventually get married to live out their own happily ever after.
Just as those very same thoughts surged through her mind, the door burst open and all three ladies turned their attention to the man who walked in.
“Father!” Sarah smiled. “You’ve come at just the right time, we were talking about—”
“Not now, Sarah,” he interrupted her, additionally lifting his hand mid-air, heading to the center of the drawing room. “I have some important news to share with everyone, but namely, with Emily.”
“With me?” Emily asked, stifling a gasp.
It must have something to do with last night,she thought. There had to be horrible gossip regarding what the marquess had done, and suddenly, this thought inflamed a little flicker of hope. Perhaps if her father saw, just like everyone else did, what the marquess was truly like, he would reconsider giving him the hand of his daughter in marriage… namely,herhand.
Emily resisted the temptation to smile as hope thrilled her, filling every corner of her being with optimism. She couldn’t help but get lost in a daydream, thinking about Alexander, imagining their paths crossing again, perhaps during another ball of a gathering.
This time, she would not be forced to dance with some man who was old enough to be her father. Instead, she would be free to dance with him, and while dancing, they would be talking, getting to know each other better. The mere thought of it made her heart race with anticipation.
It didn’t matter that these thoughts were foolish and impractical. It didn’t matter that she had seen Alexander only once. What mattered was that she might be set free, because the marquess was careless enough to show his true nature in front of everyone. Surely, Father would not allow her to marry someone like that… would he?
In fact, she had gotten so deeply lost in her reverie that she didn’t even realize her father had been talking this entire time.
“Emily?” he called out to her sternly. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry?” she asked apologetically. “I am, Father. Of course. I just… I was thinking about what you said.”
“Yes, as I was saying,” he continued, clearing his throat as if to make sure that she was indeed listening to him this time. “I have given my blessing for your hand in marriage to the marquess and he has informed me that—”
Before Emily could say anything, Sarah blurted out, interrupting their father. “Surely, Father, you cannot mean that!” Her eyes were wide with disbelief, just like Emily’s. “Why, he is old enough to be Emily’s father himself!”
Emily felt as if the ground beneath her feet was spinning around and around. She dropped her hands onto the pianoforte and a loud noise echoed from it, as if the instrument itself protested this outrageous match. But the person who was supposed to protest the most was unable to speak. Emily felt as if someone had ripped out her tongue and left her with no voice.
Their father turned to Sarah. “This is not a matter to be taken lightly, Sarah. The marquess is a respectable man, with title and wealth.”
Emily scoffed silently. Of course that was what her father would value the most, while the fact that he was twice her age would be left unaddressed.
“That means he will provide Emily with security and a comfortable life,” he added, but Emily knew this was a match as much for him as it was for her. Connections with the duke would help them out of their dire financial strife, and their name would be cleared again.
“But Father, marriage should be about love and happiness, not just security and comfort.” Sarah couldn’t stop protesting, and Emily could only shake her head. She was certain that such a conversation would follow immediately after their father found out about Sarah’s love interest, a young man with no title and minor wealth.
Emily couldn’t find the words to voice her own objections. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—fear, confusion, and a deep sense of longing for something more. Marrying the marquess was not what she wanted, but defying her father’s wishes would be met with disapproval and disappointment.
“You and your sister are far too young to know what the world is really about,” their father continued, waving a dismissive hand at them both. “That is why parents are here to decide on their children’s fate, because we know best. Now, the marquess will be leaving London tomorrow on urgent business. That means that the formal engagement will not be announced until he returns.”
Emily’s heart sank even further at the news. It felt like she was being trapped in a cage, forced into a future that she didn't want. She wished she could speak up, to tell her father that she couldn’t go through with this, but the words remained lodged in her throat.
Emily’s mind drifted back to the Duke of Ravenswood. The memory of their brief encounter on the balcony still lingered in her thoughts, and she couldn’t help but wish for something more than a marriage of convenience.
She had always dreamed of finding love, of a marriage based on affection and passion, not on duty and social status. But her dreams seemed to be slipping away, replaced by the reality of her family’s financial struggles and her father’s desire for her to marry for security.
At that moment, the touch of someone’s hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present moment. She lifted her gaze to lock it with her father’s.
“I know you don’t understand now, but you will later,” he said somehow apologetically, but she knew his mind was made up. He squeezed her shoulder gently and left the drawing room, closing the door behind him.
For a few moments, no one spoke. Emily was not playing the pianoforte. Sarah was not painting. Their mother, who had as always been nothing but a silent witness to the decisions of her husband, was no longer crocheting. Then she got up and walked over to Emily, taking a seat next to her on the bench. She wrapped her arm around her and pulled her closer.
“Please remember that your father only means well for you girls,” she said tenderly. “He wants to see you married to men next to whom you will want for nothing.”
