earlier in the day. When the duke’s brother Gabriel had suggested charades, everyone agreed instantly, except for the duke and Lord David. As a result, both of them felt the brunt of merciless teasing for their lack of good humor.
The duke stood and waited for them to quiet down. Mia expected him to insist they observe more decorum.
“Before the evening descends to a level suitable for the nursery, I have an announcement,” he began.
They all sobered. The duke was not smiling.
“God willing, the duchess and I will welcome a new addition to the family within five months.”
No one said a word. The duke’s first wife had died in childbirth. Though he tried to smile as he spoke, Mia could see that the all-powerful Duke of Meryon was afraid.
The duchess herself had smoothed over the awkward moment. Elena hurried from her spot at the other end of the table, pulled her husband close, and kissed him soundly.
His brothers cheered. His sister, Olivia, called out, “It’s wonderful news, Lyn!” Everyone rose to their feet, toasting the couple with the last of their wine. William bolted from his spot, shook hands with the duke, and kissed the duchess on the cheek.
That gesture reminded Mia of the blood relationship Elena and William shared: aunt to nephew, despite their closeness in age. They, too, were family.
Not a one of them shared their excitement with her. Yes, it was Elena’s moment, but William showered all his attention on her aunt and never once looked at Mia or gave any sign that this was a future they would share, too.
Mia had never felt so much an outsider, so unnecessary. She had no place in this family, any more than she had ever been part of any family. Not since her mother had died.
Mia pushed the thought to the back of her mind thatevening. Elena looked positively radiant and Mia gave her own best wishes to her guardian with sincerity.
The rest of the evening was vastly entertaining. Lord Gabriel’s crazy gyrations called for laughable guesses from all of them. Mia was inordinately pleased that she guessed which line from Shakespeare he pulled from the box: “What light through yonder window breaks?”
Her natural inclination to theatrics made her own “Out, damned spot” much easier.
When they were drinking tea, Elena had asked her to play the pianoforte for them. But it had been so long since she had been near one that she had declined. Elena had chastised William for not giving Mia time to practice. William had shrugged off the comment, insisting that listening to someone play an instrument was boring, and the subject was forgotten. By everyone but Mia.
As she brushed her hair that night, the truth about her engagement came to her with a clarity she had never before recognized. A lifetime of tribulations, disappointments, trials, and even death marked a marriage. An unselfish love made it worth the effort; passion made it a worthy adventure.
She did not know if William loved her that way, or if she truly loved him with the kind of passion that existed between the duke and Elena. Having fun and being in love were two different things.
She had tried to talk to Elena about it, but her guardian knew such deep love that she insisted the connection grew stronger with marriage and every day, andnight, thereafter. That assumed the right sort of love existed in the first place.
The fact William found listening to music boring haunted her. He would move restlessly around the room while she did her best to entertain him. Finally she realized, with profound disappointment, that he would never grow to share her love of music.
From then on Mia tested William. Tested his love, wondering where William hid the passion he showed for the adventures that were his idea of a good life, and if his passion was for her or for the adventures they shared.
And she began to practice the pianoforte alone. He had not reacted with anything more than easy amusement, leaving her to play while he spent the time at his
The duke stood and waited for them to quiet down. Mia expected him to insist they observe more decorum.
“Before the evening descends to a level suitable for the nursery, I have an announcement,” he began.
They all sobered. The duke was not smiling.
“God willing, the duchess and I will welcome a new addition to the family within five months.”
No one said a word. The duke’s first wife had died in childbirth. Though he tried to smile as he spoke, Mia could see that the all-powerful Duke of Meryon was afraid.
The duchess herself had smoothed over the awkward moment. Elena hurried from her spot at the other end of the table, pulled her husband close, and kissed him soundly.
His brothers cheered. His sister, Olivia, called out, “It’s wonderful news, Lyn!” Everyone rose to their feet, toasting the couple with the last of their wine. William bolted from his spot, shook hands with the duke, and kissed the duchess on the cheek.
That gesture reminded Mia of the blood relationship Elena and William shared: aunt to nephew, despite their closeness in age. They, too, were family.
Not a one of them shared their excitement with her. Yes, it was Elena’s moment, but William showered all his attention on her aunt and never once looked at Mia or gave any sign that this was a future they would share, too.
Mia had never felt so much an outsider, so unnecessary. She had no place in this family, any more than she had ever been part of any family. Not since her mother had died.
Mia pushed the thought to the back of her mind thatevening. Elena looked positively radiant and Mia gave her own best wishes to her guardian with sincerity.
The rest of the evening was vastly entertaining. Lord Gabriel’s crazy gyrations called for laughable guesses from all of them. Mia was inordinately pleased that she guessed which line from Shakespeare he pulled from the box: “What light through yonder window breaks?”
Her natural inclination to theatrics made her own “Out, damned spot” much easier.
When they were drinking tea, Elena had asked her to play the pianoforte for them. But it had been so long since she had been near one that she had declined. Elena had chastised William for not giving Mia time to practice. William had shrugged off the comment, insisting that listening to someone play an instrument was boring, and the subject was forgotten. By everyone but Mia.
As she brushed her hair that night, the truth about her engagement came to her with a clarity she had never before recognized. A lifetime of tribulations, disappointments, trials, and even death marked a marriage. An unselfish love made it worth the effort; passion made it a worthy adventure.
She did not know if William loved her that way, or if she truly loved him with the kind of passion that existed between the duke and Elena. Having fun and being in love were two different things.
She had tried to talk to Elena about it, but her guardian knew such deep love that she insisted the connection grew stronger with marriage and every day, andnight, thereafter. That assumed the right sort of love existed in the first place.
The fact William found listening to music boring haunted her. He would move restlessly around the room while she did her best to entertain him. Finally she realized, with profound disappointment, that he would never grow to share her love of music.
From then on Mia tested William. Tested his love, wondering where William hid the passion he showed for the adventures that were his idea of a good life, and if his passion was for her or for the adventures they shared.
And she began to practice the pianoforte alone. He had not reacted with anything more than easy amusement, leaving her to play while he spent the time at his
Similar Books
