Page 113 of Rogue of My Heart

“What I want isn’t important,” Lady Aoife said, glancing wistfully toward one of the parlor’s rain-streaked windows.

A thrill of triumph shot through Marie’s gut. Lady Aoife obviously didn’t want to marry Christian. Discovering that was the first step toward untangling the rest of the mess.

“I would think that your feelings on matters of love are highly important.” Marie still held the woman’s hand. She patted it, then clasped it in both of hers, showing as much warmth and friendship as she could.

“Marriage and love do not always go hand in hand,” Lady Aoife said, dragging her eyes reluctantly back to Marie.

“But they should.” Marie stared intently at her. She had to wring an admission from the woman, but she had to do it delicately. “You don’t love Lord Kilrea.” She phrased her question as a statement, hoping it would be easier for Lady Aoife to admit to it that way.

“I’m certain I will grow to love him in time,” Lady Aoife said.

Marie took a deep breath to battle her frustration with the woman’s answers. “He is a lovely man,” she said slowly. “But perhaps not the loveliest of your acquaintance?”

A sudden, guilty look drew all color out of Lady Aoife’s face. “Whether I find any man lovelier than the man I have been told I am to marry is irrelevant,” she said, barely audible.

“But there is someone?” Marie practically vibrated with impatience. Why could the woman not just own up to her true feelings and take what she wanted?

Because women had been schooled for centuries to do as they were told and accept every sort of meddling in their lives, she answered herself. Because up until very recently, a woman’s feelings weren’t considered important at all, particularly not where marriage was concerned. Marie was beyond grateful that the mindset which had given birth to those horrible ideas was changing, even if it wasn’t changing fast enough.

“I will do as my brother tells me,” Lady Aoife said, evidently not willing to stand up for herself like a modern woman.

Frustration had Marie ready to leap out of her skin. How were women ever supposed to rise up to take their rightful place in the world when so many continued to see themselves as unworthy of something as simple as demanding to marry whomever they pleased?

“You’ll do as your brother says, even if it means you’ll be unhappy?” Marie asked subtly. She leaned closer to Lady Aoife. “Even if that means some other, worthier gentleman will be made unhappy by the decision as well?”

The look Lady Aoife gave her in response to the suggestion reminded Marie of a rabbit that had been cornered by a fox and knew it was about to be devoured. “I…I cannot imagine what you mean by that, Lady Marie,” she stammered.

The other conversation in the room stumbled to a halt, and all eyes turned to Marie and Lady Aoife. Which was no surprise to Marie. Lady Aoife looked as guilty as sin and ready to burst into tears.

“Aoife, are you well?” Lord Boleran asked, standing and putting aside the teacup he’d been holding. “Perhaps we should return home so that you can rest. My sister has a delicate constitution,” he said to Shannon by way of apology.

“Anyone who is forced to endure your presence on a daily basis would have a delicate constitution,” Colleen muttered, tilting her nose up.

Marie sent Colleen a scathing look and stood as Lady Aoife did. “If there is anything I can do to help you in any way, my lady,” she said. “If you ever need a friend to confide in, someone who might have been a sister to you.”

Lady Aoife smiled weakly at her, but rushed away as soon as her brother swept her from the room.

The next few minutes were spent bidding farewell to the guests. Marie bristled with frustration, even as she smiled and curtsied and pretended nothing was wrong. The moment Lady Aoife and Lord Boleran were gone, though, her sisters rounded on her.

“Whatever did you say to make Lady Aoife blanche so?” Chloe asked, as though she were asking Marie for the plot twist in the novel she was reading.

“She looked terrified enough to faint,” Shannon said with a far more pointed stare.

Marie returned to the sofa, flopping into it. “Everything is a muddle,” she said as her sisters sat around her.

“What sort of a muddle?” Colleen asked.

“A matrimonial muddle.” Marie sighed, then sat straighter. “Christian believes he’s still obligated to marry Lady Aoife, because it was his father’s last wish for him, even though he’s in love with me.”

“Oh,” Chloe said with a rapturous smile. “Did he confess that love for you? Was it glorious and romantic?”

“He did not confess it in so many words,” Marie said, feeling as though she’d missed out on what was her due, “but it’s true. And Lady Aoife still feels obligated to marry him, even though she’s in love with someone else as well.”

At that revelation, both Chloe and Colleen gasped.

“Who is Lady Aoife in love with?” Colleen asked.

“Lord Garvagh,” Marie said. “I spotted the two of them in an intimate conversation yesterday while on my way to call on Christian.” She tilted her head to the side, remembering the way Lady Aoife had looked as though she were in tears. “I think she’s as miserable about being forced to marry Christian as Christian is over what he thinks is his part in the accident.”