Page 6

E velyn stared down at her white-gloved hands resting atop her lap of overly frothy, white, silk chiffon.

As her family’s carriage crawled along the street toward the church in which her life would be forever altered, Evelyn forced her mind and heart into numbness.

She would not allow herself to be emotional in front of her family.

Her family, generally one which exuded lots of noise, was unusually quiet.

She looked up to observe them—perhaps her parents had somehow changed their minds—but was startled to find her sister watching her intently.

The sisters were similar in appearance. Both had auburn hair, and both had brown eyes.

But Cordelia was a few years older, and dressed far more opulently.

For every plain wool dress Evelyn owned, Cordelia had three dripping in sequins and beadwork.

Evelyn held Cordelia’s gaze and wondered what was going on in her sister’s mind.

Evelyn also wondered if Cordelia had felt the same sickening feeling on her way to her own wedding years ago.

She averted her gaze and looked at Papa seated beside Cordelia. His top hat sat prim upon his head, orange hair sticking out from beneath the brim. His mustache was waxed and curled downward at the ends, a parallel to the frown it crowned.

Papa was lost in his thoughts, his hands knit together over his stomach. Evelyn wondered what he and Mama had talked about that morning while Evelyn had dressed and readied for the ceremony.

“We should be there soon.” Mama’s voice cut through the silent cabin.

Mama fanned her round face with a paper fan decorated with hand-painted posies.

Evelyn had inherited redness from both parents.

Her father’s hair, and her mother’s complexion.

Mama’s pale skin flushed at the smallest slight, hence the fan.

“Just think, Evelyn, this time tomorrow, you will be a countess, just like your sister!”

“I’m a contessa , Mama,” Cordelia said with her signature haughty air.

Mama waved her free hand. “In English, it’s countess. You are home right now, my dear, not in Italy.”

“This hasn’t been home for nearly ten years. Nor has Italy. And thank goodness for that! In Paris, a dowager contessa like myself is free to do as she wishes.” Cordelia ended this with a smirk Evelyn knew would send their mother’s face cherry red.

It worked.

“Stop arguing!” Father interjected right as they stopped at the church. Evelyn thought she was going to throw up. “Please. Things are already tense as they are. Let’s not heighten the feeling.”

As if on cue, an endless waterfall of rain suddenly dropped down from the sky. The entire family jumped and gasped at the sudden onslaught.

“Oh, no!” Mama shouted with true distress as her hands flew up to her cheeks, her fan tumbling to the floor. “And just as we arrived at the church! What horrific timing!”

Evelyn slunk in her seat. As if the day couldn’t become more wretched.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” Mama asked Papa.

He looked affronted. “Me! Did you ?”

Mama harrumphed. “Well, maybe we could wait a minute or two and see if it lets up? The door to the church is a good ways back from the road. Look, puddles are already forming on the walking path! Evelyn is going to get soaked! Oh, your darling hair! Your dress!”

The buttons on the back of Evelyn’s bodice were beginning to irritate her.

Normally, Evelyn’s dresses had buttons on the front so she could dress herself, as she didn’t care much for being touched by other people.

It was something she had been doing for as long as she could remember.

She had not had a lady’s maid for many years.

It had been a battle fought for a long while.

This was another time her parents had given up on yet another one of Evelyn’s antics, but at least this one had saved them money.

Thus, she was not used to the little buttons digging into her back. She squirmed.

After five minutes, however, the rain only seemed to worsen. And after a bit of back and forth, impatience mounting while waiting for the footman to appear, Father mumbled something about finding an umbrella in the church and dashed out of the carriage.

With only the women now, the air in the cabin seemed to lighten just a bit.

“How are you feeling?” Cordelia finally asked, looking Evelyn intently in the eye once again.

“Like I’m going to throw up,” Evelyn responded.

“That’s normal,” Mama added with haste. “I doubt there’s a single bride out there who doesn’t have nerves beforehand.”

“I despise these buttons,” Evelyn said, shifting with discomfort again. “How do you live with it? I cannot stand how each tiny button is digging into my spine.”

“You get used to it,” Mama replied. “I know you prefer them on the front, but a wedding dress should always have them on the back.”

“Why?”

Mama briefly looked at Cordelia as if asking for help. But her sister didn’t offer any comment, so Mama gave an explanation herself. “Because husbands like to unfasten the buttons on the wedding night, silly!”

Evelyn could feel the blood drain from her face and had a vivid image of the Earl of Wellingham at her back, his stubby fingers hurriedly unbuttoning the bodice with greed.

“Now I’m really going to throw up.” Evelyn groaned.

“Mama, don’t scare her.” Cordelia gave their mother a wide-eyed look.

“The girl needs to know what’s going to happen tonight. Evelyn…” Mama now turned her body to face her daughter. “Do you know what happens on a wedding night? What a husband and wife…do together?”

Cordelia decided to be helpful. “A man and wife go to bed and f—”

“ Cordelia !” Mama shrieked.

Cordelia only smiled.

Evelyn rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Yes, I know what happens.” Her Vassar College friends back in New York had been a wealth of information regarding this subject. Sometimes, a bit too much information. “What I want to know is: How to prevent it from happening?”

Cordelia leaned forward and placed her hand on Evelyn’s knee. “You cannot, I’m sorry to say. They’re brutes. Filthy, smelly, hairy brutes. I pray every night, though, that you will have a husband like mine.”

Evelyn furrowed her brow. She had only met Cordelia’s husband a few times and didn’t think there was anything worth remembering about him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, a husband who dies not long after your wedding. And then, when his replacement is a perpetual bachelor who prefers men over women, you get to live as a wealthy, merry widow!”

Mama gasped quite loudly at this. “ Cordelia !”

But Cordelia shrugged. “It’s true. I hated the man you and Papa chose for me. And I hope Evelyn’s earl croaks tonight.”

Despite knowing better, Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh. Cordelia always knew how to make her feel better. As if her sister knew Evelyn’s train of thought, she gave her a wink.

Mama huffed before looking over at Evelyn. “I suppose, then, I do not need to have that conversation with you?”

“Please don’t,” Evelyn begged.

“Very well.” Mama lifted her chin. “I will, however, give you marriage advice. The first year, for even the most in-love couple, is hardest. You’re two different people trying to learn how to live together and under the same roof.

And your responsibilities will be different.

You will now run a household, not play with paint. ”

Mama continued talking, but Evelyn’s mind began trailing off. She wondered what her colleagues—well, former colleagues—were thinking right now. Regret hit her. She should have resigned, or at least told them what was going to happen.

But she’d been too afraid to. And she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge what her future had held.

Cordelia interrupted her thoughts. “Are you all right?”

Evelyn could only look back at her sister, but only for a moment. For her eyes were beginning to sting.

“She’s fine,” Mama said. “Just typical bridal nerves, is all. Think about the home you’ll be living in, Evelyn! The gowns, the jewelry—”

“You’re thinking about that for yourself , aren’t you?” Cordelia snapped back.

Both Evelyn and Mama stilled for a moment.

“You think I don’t know why she’s being forced into this? Have you ever stood near the earl, Mama? Smelled him? Heard him talk? The most insipid rubbish comes out of his mouth.”

Mama gasped.

“I went through hell with my husband.” Her voice was snippy. “But you didn’t care about that, did you? You only cared for the money you knew you’d convince me to send with your sad stories about leaking roofs.”

“Cordelia!” Mama’s face was bright red again.

But Cordelia shook her head. “No. I wish all of this had been laid out to me before my wedding. I wish I knew that the anger and fear I felt was not normal. You reassured me that my husband was a good man, just rough around the edges. But he wasn’t.

I had him pinned from the moment I met him.

He was a horrible man, and I’m glad he’s dead. ”

Evelyn lifted her eyebrows sky high at this.

Mama picked up her paper fan and furiously began to fan herself. And promptly fainted.

Evelyn shouted out, but Cordelia rolled her eyes. Fainting on cue was Mama’s favorite way of escaping uncomfortable moments.

“Is that true?” Evelyn asked, glad to have a moment alone with Cordelia. This was the first time she had ever heard any of this.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Cordelia stared for a beat longer at their unconscious mother. “Now that we’re finally alone, tell me the truth. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes. Honestly.”

Evelyn began to twist her fingers together. “I don’t want this.”