Julie Anne Long Read Online Free PDF

moaned. “It
is
my fault! If only it were not my responsibility to marry a duke or an earl, I would offer myself up to Edelston in your place.” Lorelei eyed the glorious reflection that had made such a noble sacrifice impossible.
    “Oh, nonsense, Lorelei,” Rebecca sighed. “Mama was right. Something scandalous was bound to happen to me sooner or later, and we both know it. I enjoy so many things that Mama does not approve of that I cannot keep track anymore of what is considered right and what is considered not the ‘done thing.’ My reputation was bound to become hopelessly tarnished without my knowing it. I cannot help it, really.”
    There was a short silence while the two sisters contemplated the odd, inescapable truth of this statement.
    “Lorelei, do you agree that it is my duty to marry Edelston? Mama said it was a question of honor. My honor. And your honor. Our family’s honor.”
    “I cannot say, Rebecca.” She sounded as helpless as Rebecca felt. “I suppose it is. Mama and Papa seem to think so.”
    Rebecca nodded once, grimly, as though this was what she had expected to hear.
    “Mama has invited a modiste to visit this afternoon,” Lorelei ventured. “She wants your dress ready in less than a fortnight so we can have the wedding the day before we leave for my London season.”
    Rebecca shot straight up, all the color drained from her cheeks. “A
fortnight
?” she squeaked.
    “Only think, Becca!” Lorelei seemed to cheer a little. “I can be your attendant, and we can have the most marvelous enormous cake, and your dress will be of white satin all sewn with beads, although perhaps we don’t have time for beads, but maybe we could use silver tissue instead . . .” She trailed off, noticing the look of incredulous horror on Rebecca’s face.
    “Beads?” Rebecca squeaked. “Cake? A
fortnight
? Two
weeks
?”
    She threw herself off the bed and knelt near the startled Lorelei’s feet.
    “I do not want to marry him, Lorelei. I do not want to be a wife.”
    “Ever?” Lorelei asked, astonished.
    “I want to be a doctor,” Rebecca said miserably.
    The words had never sounded so pathetic and naive to her before. Rebecca was just beginning to realize that the longings of the daughters of English country squires were considered as consequential as a cloud of breath on a cold day. Vapor and condensation, indeed.
    “Oh, Becca.” Lorelei turned away from her burdensome reflection to take her sister’s hands in her own. “It seems so terribly wrong, even if it
is
your duty. But what can we do?”
    “That’s just it. What
can
we do?” Rebecca tried to keep the words light for Lorelei’s sake, but her voice had gone thin with despair.
    And after a moment, because they both knew the answer to the question was
absolutely nothing
, Lorelei carefully knelt down, mindful of not crushing her dress, and pulled her sister into a hug.
    As threatened, the modiste arrived that afternoon and unfurled a length of pearly satin in the upstairs parlor, spreading it across a chair so Rebecca could see how it reflected the light from the window. Conscious of the sharp eyes of her mother, Rebecca obediently ran her fingers over it and tried not to flinch in revulsion.
    It looks like a shroud,
she thought, and the now-familiar sensation of a giant hand closing around her throat returned. Rebecca imagined herself suffocating under the folds of that white satin, and her heart began to hammer. She swayed, and tiny black dots danced before her eyes. For the first time in her life, Rebecca nearly fainted, all thanks to a bloody bolt of satin.
    The modiste and Lady Tremaine misinterpreted her pale cheeks and the swaying and were utterly charmed.
    “It is fitting for a young bride to be excited,
non
?” said the modiste as the two women lowered Rebecca into the satin-draped chair with motherly clucks. “It will be all right,
ma chérie
. After the wedding night, you will see.” She gave Rebecca a particularly