Free Web NovelChapter 3: A Heart Of Stone
SOPHIA
Daisy returned with an elegantly carved wood box. From it, she pulled out a pair of earrings. Purple gems dangled from the silver strands. The earrings had silver cuffs. The cuff was placed midway up the ear and the earring itself pinned to the lobe.
I’d never seen anything like it. Certainly not in the Northern Realm.
There was a necklace, too. The first part was a silver band worn around the throat. From it, delicate threads of silver connected to a larger silver chain that draped over the collarbone.
"This is beautiful," I murmured. "Wait. Why am I the only one who got a wedding gift?"
Daisy tapped her lower lip. "I think he sent Mr. Willowmarch a watch."
"A watch as a wedding gift? Timepieces are considered bad luck. Did he want to curse his own cousin?"
"Maybe. I want to curse your husband all the time."
"Daisy."
She crossed her arms, refusing to apologize for her comment. I didn’t insist, either, because quite frankly, I understood the desire to curse my husband, too. freewebnoveℓ.com
"Anything else?" I asked.
"These are hair accessories." Daisy pulled out a long silver hair pin. It curled upward, the very end dotted with a purple gem. There were also two small combs shaped like the flowers embroidered on the gown. Daisy admired them in the candlelight. "How pretty," she said.
"Far better than most of my jewelry," I said. "I’ll need shoes. White, if you can find them. Flat. I don’t want to wear a pair of heels. Those things are ankle killers."
"No problem." Daisy held up a pair of purple shoes that matched the style and color of the dress. No high heels. Just a flat sole.
"I think the women in the Western Realm are far more practical than we are in the Northern Realm," I said, pleased with the shoes.
Compared to how long it took to get dressed in Northern styles, with the huge dresses, oversized jewels, heavy wigs, and terrible shoes, getting ready with a Western Realm outfit was but a moment.
"Are you sure you don’t want to wear a wig?" asked Daisy as she brushed out my hair. "You might get laughed at." She looked at my torso. "You’re not going to wear a corset? That camisole won’t cinch your waist or show off your bosom."
"Who cares. I’ll be the only woman there who can take a full breath. And I’ll finally be able to eat something from one of the buffets. I’ve never once gotten to enjoy petit fours or fruit or tiny quiches."
Daisy pulled a section of hair, wound it around the hairpin and created a little swirled bun held securely by the pin. She placed the two flower combs in my hair, one near each temple. The rest of my hair was left alone, though she did spray it with some diamond dust so that it would sparkle under the candlelit chandeliers.
"We still have to do your make-up and if you don’t leave now, you really will be late."
"I don’t want make-up. Put a little bit of color high on my cheeks and lips. Other than that, don’t bother."
A few minutes later, Daisy and I went downstairs to the waiting carriage. She put a white-furred cape over my shoulders.
I breezed past the servants, the butler named George who never liked me, and the footman waiting in front of the carriage.
"Let’s go," I said. "And hurry, please. It doesn’t matter how bumpy the road."
"Yes, ma’am," said the driver.
He snapped the whip and the horses cantered down the driveway. When we got onto the main road, the driver quickened the pace. Going faster jostled the carriage, and I held on to my seat for dear life.
At least I wouldn’t be late.
***|***|***
JACE WILLOWMARCH
"Where’s the wife?" asked Fabian Velle. "You didn’t arrive together?"
"I haven’t been home yet," I said. We stood in the billiards room drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes. "I hadn’t planned to attend the Hunter’s Ball."
"Admit it. You’re only here because you missed me."
"Like a festering wound."
Fabian put a hand to his chest as if I’d actually stabbed him. "Then why are you here? To cuddle with your sweetheart Penelope Shire perhaps?"
"I’m married."
"Every man has a mistress," said Fabian. "In fact, I have three."
"You don’t have a wife," I pointed out.
He laughed. "My mother is certainly trying to remedy that. But these noble ladies are so boring. Their personalities seem to all be the same. I think training to be a family matriach must suck the joy right out of their souls. And we get to marry these human shells so that we can make little heirs and preserve family bloodlines."
He looked at me, cigarette hanging from his lip. "Legitimate heirs," he said. "Not that I would intentionally impregnate a mistress, but I don’t want illegitimate children. Do you?"
I met his curious gaze. "What do you mean?"
Fabian rolled his eyes. "You’re not that obtuse. You moved Penelope into your home before you even wed. In more ancient times, you’d be impeached for favoring your concubine over your wife."
"Nonsense." I waved off Fabian’s concerns. "She saved my life. Even if I fulfill every wish she has, would it be enough to repay her kindness?"
"She saved your life when you were fifteen. Is seven years of spending your time and money on her not enough penance for her sacrifice?" He put the word sacrifice into air quotes.
"She has a permanent illness because of her selflessness. Should I abandon her?"
Fabian’s gaze met mine. There was something in his eyes, pity perhaps, that made me feel uneasy.
"We are innocent," I said.
"So, she’s like a sister?"
I clenched my jaw. "Of course."
"Really? If you want to play big brother, arrange a good marriage for her. A husband would give her money, security, shelter, and if not love, at least comfort." He studied my expression and sighed. "Do you really think holding on to Penelope and Sophia is fair to either one of them?"
