Page 5 of An Arranged Marriage with a Mad Marquess (Marriage Mart Scandals #3)

The wedding was set to occur in the Brassfield chapel. In their finer days, the Marshville family had donated sums of money to the chapel. They had financed padded pews, a repaired roof, new flagstones, and so on. The donations had long since dried up, but the chapel and its patrons remembered how kind the Marshvilles had once been.

I wonder what they’ll think of the wedding, Patrina thought faintly. Will they think that I am lucky, or that I’m simply unfortunate?

She stared at her own reflection and tried not to think very much at all.

They’d chosen an ivory-coloured material for the wedding gown, with pearls and sequins at the bodice, and not much else in the way of decoration. Patrina asked for a simple gown, and that was exactly what she had received.

The wedding would take place in less than an hour.

Patrina continued staring at her own reflection as the door to her room opened, and Lady Marshville strode in.

“Girls, out,” she said shortly, clapping her hands. Agnes and Gillian ceased their chatter, understanding at once that the term girls now only referred to them, and not to their sister. They left at once, shooting Patrina curious gazes as they went.

Once the door was closed behind them, a silence fell over the room, between mother and daughter.

“They don’t understand,” Patrina heard herself saying. “Agnes kept asking and asking why I was marrying him. She said I must be afraid of being left a spinster and wanted a good match to set me up for life. At times, I thought she was almost angry at me. I don’t think Gillian knows what to think. I didn’t tell them the truth.”

Lady Marshville came to stand behind Patrina, hands resting lightly on her shoulder. Patrina wanted to throw herself into her mother’s arms, to cry and cry until the tears were all dried up and all their problems were magically solved.

She couldn’t, of course. For one thing, it would crumple her dress or disarrange her hair.

“You do not have to do this, Patrina,” Lady Marshville said, voice steady.

“I suspect it’s rather too late to withdraw. I daresay he’s already at the chapel.”

“I do not care about Lord Morendale, or about what Society has to say. If you don’t wish to marry this man, Patrina, then you do not have to.”

Patrina closed her eyes. “And say I don’t, Mama. Say I reject him, leave him at the altar. Aside from humiliating a probably innocent man and ruining any chances I have of a good marriage, I would also destroy Agnes’, and Gillian’s. With no dowry behind us and not much in the way of personal charms, us girls would never marry. Papa’s debts would not be paid. They would take all of our things, then they would take our house. Papa would go to debtor’s prison, and we would be destitute. Destitute, Mama. There is nothing for us. There is no way out of this, except for a fine marriage. Lord Morendale does not seem like a cruel man. I daresay he is mad, but it is not as if he can help that. I think he will be kind to me, as far as he can be.”

There was a little silence after this speech.

“I never wanted this for you,” Lady Marshville said, voice cracking. “I have failed as a mother. I know your father blames himself. And while some blame rests on him, to be sure, he always tried to do the best for you. He did.”

Patrina laid a hand on top of her mother’s, where it rested on her shoulder.

“I know, Mama. I know. But this is where luck has taken us, and there’s no sense railing against it, is there? Besides, as a Marchioness, I’ll outrank you all. I quite like that idea.”

Lady Marshville chuckled, despite herself. “Never change, Patrina. You are a sweet, darling girl. You don’t allow that formidable matriarch of his to intimidate you; do you understand?”

Patrina got to her feet, turning to throw her arms around her mother.

“When have I ever allowed myself to be intimidated, Mama?” she said, stifling a chuckle. “The Dowager and her haughty daughter will not know what’s struck them when I arrive. And nor, for that matter, will the Marquess. I fancy he’ll regret marrying me, soon enough. And now, I think we should leave, don’t you? I have a wedding to get to.”