It wasn’t that Buffy hated Willow, she was her sister after all. Two years difference, Buffy had always been the baby of the family, and because of that she usually got her way, except when her dear old sister needed something or objected to her wants. Willow was, in her mind more of a bother then anything. A waste of space and money. Once Willow left, all her parent’s attention, as well as their money, would be spent of her, solely her. And that was what she indented on doing, making Willow disappear.
It was that time of the year where spring came into blossom and marriages were made. They had entered the beginning of her second season, Willow entering her fourth. She had overheard the many conversations she and her father, Rupert, had. Willow needed to find a husband, not because of the money situation, but because it was time for her to build a home of her own. He had already given her all the liberties any woman could have dreamed of , even the choice of her own suitor, but still she refused to marry, the past had thought her to be wary of marriage, something that her parents knew all to well.
But now Buffy would find her a suitable man and have her married by tonight, tonight during the large ball at her parents home. It was time to put her plan into action.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Willow yawned as the third hour of the ball came. She was seated with her dear friend, Drucilla, reminiscing on how it had all been different a year ago.
“How is Joyce?” Drucilla asked.
“Miserable. Her husband is sparsely at home.”
“He is with her...isn’t he?”
“I believe so. I did not have the heart to tell her I saw Owen at the games last week. I saw him with the widow Jenny. They looked too friendly with each other.”
“You would think he would at least have the decency to make it a private matter with that...that hussy.”
“Drucilla,” Willow said a bit surprised by her comment.
“It is true, why not say what she is. After her husband died, all she has done is offer her ‘friendship’ to anything male. I am sure her husband is rolling around in his grave at this very moment.”
Willow nodded, knowing what her dear friend was saying was truth.
“And does your father still insist you marry?”
“Yes. I have even tried to speak to mama, but she supports him.”
“At least you have a choice, Willow. My mother insists I marry a suitor of her liking and that I am not sure I can. They are all old enough to be my father, if not dull as a board. I must find one that is of her standard.”
“Which would be?”
“Simply put - rich. Rich and with a title, perhaps even older then she.”
Willow cringed, that was horrible.
“I fear I may end up as Joyce, miserable and unhappy if I do what my mother asks,” Drucilla ended.
“You are not alone my friend. I almost fell in that trap by my own doing. I’m just happy I realized it before I made a grave mistake. Joyce was in love with him, and now that she carries his child, he can care less. It breaks my heart to visit her.”
“What are we to do my friend?” she asked.
“I for one will fight my father. I will not marry,
not this season or ever.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Buffy smiled as she saw her sister walk up the stairs to her room, retiring from the party as early as she usually did. She took a letter from her small pouch and stepped away from the group of men that had surrounded her most of the night. She asked one of her messenger to deliver a message to the man that had just stepped onto the terrace, Duke Xander LaGrant, her most persistent and annoying suitor. She handed him the note with a smile, then turned to leave, never seeing the Duke re-enter and another man step outside.
The messenger left and stepped out onto the terrace, following the instructions the Lady had given him.
“Excuse me, sir?”
The tall, handsome stranger turned around a bit surprised.
“Yes?”
“The Lord Harrington has asked for your immediate attendance in a private room regarding a very important business deal. He has asked you follow the directions in this letter and to be as discreet as possible.”
“Now?”
“Yes. He asked me to stress that it a very important business deal which he wishes you to be a part of.”
Angel was intrigued to say the least. As much
as he hated attending balls, his good friend William always seemed to be
able to drag him to them. He couldn’t wait until he returned to his estate
in the country. He took the invitation and ventured out to see what deal
was in the mix.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It was Willow’s shriek that alerted her father and the rest of the gentlemen who were with him to her room. By the time they made it to the end of the corridor, they were confronted by Angelus Beroke of Montegue exiting his beloved daughter’s bedroom. The men behind remained silent as the scene before them unfolded. The marquee opened the door to find his daughter putting her robe on. He looked at the Duke, then closed the door. He turned to excuse himself, then looked back at the Duke with a menacing look.
“Follow me.”
Angel followed remaining silent, not wishing to add more to the confusion at hand.
All voices began to mutter as they disappeared
behind close doors, not daring to question what would happen next.
* * * * * * * * * * *
“You will marry my daughter sir.”
“It was a mistake. I received a letter from Lord Harrington requesting my presence. I followed the directions in the note, that was all. Once I saw who was there, I left,” Angel repeated once more, losing patience.
“That is quite odd Sir, since Lord Harrington is in France as we speak.”
“That is what I was told by a messenger who handed me the note. Here,” Angel retorted as he handed him the note.
Rupert took it and immediately recognized the handwriting. It was now a matter of defending his daughter’s reputation.
“This proves nothing my Lord. There is no Lord Harrington present. You entered my daughter’s bedroom and were seen exited by half of London’s elite. You will marry her, there is no other way,” he yelled.
“I shall not. I ‘ve done nothing wrong. If this was a plan by her to get married or a mistake....”
“Do not blame this on her. This is not her fault. I will not have you talk badly about her or to treat her in such a matter. You will marry her or you shall face the consequences.”
“Are you threatening me?” Angel asked angered.
“Take it as you like. I am sure you would never want to ruin your sister’s future. Isn’t your brother-in-law trying for a seat in Parliament?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Just try me. I would do anything for my daughter, know that now. And I would keep that in mind even after you are married sir, because if you ever think about getting even with her for this, I shall have your head.”
Angel wouldn’t refuse. Damn William for inviting him here, damn the marquee for blackmailing him, damn the girl who would be his bride.
“I shall keep it in mind.”
“Good then, follow me.”
Angel followed Rupurt out the door, down the hall to another room where he saw his bride-to-be close in tears.
“Papa, what is happening? Why have all my things been packed up? Why have you requested that I be dressed?”
“Willow, you are to be married.”
Willow looked at him terrified. For a brief moment Angel felt sorry for her, then remembered she was the reason he was in this situation.
“No, papa, please. This can’t be so. It was a mistake. Nothing happened. He came into my room, heard me scream then left....”
“Half of London saw him leave your room. This is how it must be. You are to marry him.”
“But I do not even know his name...I do not know who he is....Why are you doing this to me?.....Why are you not protesting to this?” she asked as tears fell down her face, turning to look at Angel for a moment.
“The Duke has agreed to marry you to avoid any damage to your reputation....”
“I do not care about my reputation......I do not wish to marry a complete stranger...please papa, there has to be another way...what if I leave...”
“Enough, Willow. You will marry him tonight and leave with your new husband. That is how it must be.”
“Papa, please no....”
“Not another word it that understood.”
With that said in an hour’s time the couple was married. Angel made sure the coachman took all of Willow’s belonging with them. Before she left, a teary eyed Willow hugged her mother, then her father, hearing his small whisper.
“My dear daughter. I would never make you do something I did not think was good. Give yourselves an opportunity. Our doors shall always be open to you.”
Willow hugged him tighter, then left, joining her new husband in the carriage.
“Was this the right thing to do?” Darla asked her husband.
“I would never harm our daughter my love. Trust me?”
“You know I do,” she replied then kissed him gently.
The couple entered their house, hoping that time
would help the newlyweds.
* * * * * * * * * * *
The ride to the Duke’s house was silent. Willow had stopped crying, refusing to be seen in that way by her new husband. She dreaded what she believed may come next, a wedding night. They both stared out opposite windows, never exchanging a word between them since ‘I do’. Now as the coach came to a halt, Willow tried to hide her fears of what was to come.
Angel exited first, giving his butler and maid instructions. Willow stepped out minutes later, helped out by the coachman. Odd enough, it was the butler who showed her into the house and not her husband. She was greeted by the few servants that were still awake and was escorted to her new bedroom. To her surprise, it looked like a guest room. Before she would question the butler, he left, closing the door behind him. She remained standing, not able to believe what was happening to her. She nearly jumped out her skin when she heard the door open once more. To her relief, it was a woman.
“Countess, My name is Amy and will help you in all that is needed. My Lord has just informed me that he has just wed and has asked me to come and welcome you to his home.”
“Thank you,” she replied a bit shaky.
“Now, let us have you changed. I am sure you are tired and must be sleepy.”
“I am...”
Amy helped her changed, then bid her a goodnight,
not sure what the night ahead would bring. She hope her sleep would deter
any other thoughts from her husband. She closed her eyes, tears falling
down her cheek, wishing the morning would come soon.
* * * * * * * * * * *