Your fiancé,
Killian Spencer
The day after that, Killian gifted me a ruby jewelry set – necklace, earrings and bracelet. He said it had been passed down in his family for over a century.
On the fourth day, the present came in a small box, tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Curious, I opened the gift to find a single red hair ribbon. Silky and simple.
With KS stitched in gold, at the end of the ribbon – tiny and almost unnoticeable.
You always wear hair ribbons instead of hair-ties, so I guess you’re fond of them.
Red is for my favorite color.
And KS is because you’re mine.
Your fiancé,
Killian Spencer.
The last day – the day before the party – I got another well-wrapped package. Similar to my first courting gift. I ripped through the wrappings to find another antique hardcover. My legs weakened and I slumped on my bed, too shocked to continue standing.
Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, a collection of poems by the three Brontë sisters using their pseudonym. The collection was published in 1846.
No way. How did Killian even get a hold of the first edition of this collection?
Out of one hundred original copies, only thirty-nine were sold. While the unsold stock was discarded and later acquired by a publisher who re-issued the collection but with a different title page.
But the one I was holding was the first edition, the original copy… with the original title page. One of the thirty-nine that were sold in 1846. This should have been impossible to acquire.
Killian,
You really shouldn’t have. After doing a quick google search, I found out that you bought this from an auction in London for 95,000 dollars! Are you absolutely insane?
I mean I love it and that was very thoughtful of you. I will treasure this courting gift for the rest of my life, but…
I feel unworthy of such a grand gift. And I haven’t even given you something in return.
Yours truly,
Your wife-to-be.
I didn’t get a reply this time, but it didn’t matter.
I saw Killian the next day.
At our engagement party.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE PAST
Julianna
“What if tonight flops? What if my truth comes out?” I whispered, squeezing my sister’s hand in a death grip.
“Dear Lord, calm down.” Gracelynn placed a hand on my knee, forcing me to stop bouncing my legs. “You’re so jittery, it’s making me nervous.”
I burrowed my other hand into my black satin gown, trying to hide my shaking from her. The bodice was too tight, or it felt like it. When I left home, the sapphire and diamond necklace was light as a feather, but now it felt heavy. Almost like a weight around my neck.
Maybe it wasn’t the necklace.
Maybe it was the ball of emotions and anxiety stuck in my throat.
The engagement party was tonight. And this was the first time both my sister and I were making an appearance in public, at such a grand event. Our father had kept us living quite a private life. I had never been photographed and my sister only had one of her photos swimming around on the internet, but that was almost eight years ago and she was barely thirteen.
Gracelynn and I had social media, but our accounts were on private and we never posted any of our photos online either. While our father attended many parties and events amongst the high society, we never accompanied him.
In fact, this would be our debut as Bishop Romano’s daughters.
All eyes would be on us, full of judgment and gossip.
And not to forget… my secret would possibly not be a secret anymore by the end of tonight, if my sister and I were not careful enough.
“How are you not nervous?” I hissed under my breath.
She brushed a hand down her emerald gown, smoothing out the wrinkles. My sister and I wore a similar gown. Mine was black and strapless, with a long slit along my right leg. Gracelynn wore the same gown, but in an emerald shade and hers was a sweetheart neckline with long sleeves. “Because I have faith it’ll all work out.”
I shoved my hand into the pocket of my gown, curling my fingers into a fist. I just couldn’t stop the tremors. “You’re way too optimistic.”
Gracelynn rolled her eyes. “And you’re way too cynical. Always have been.”
“No, I’m not,” I shot back, defensively.
“Are to.”
“I’m not.”
“Will you two stop the jabbering?” Simon’s deep voice broke in. He was sitting in the passenger’s seat at the front. He shook his head. “You act like kids sometimes.”
“We don’t,” Gracelynn and I growled together.
“Sisters,” he muttered. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Was that meant to be an insult?” my sister said through clenched teeth.
Simon brought his hands up in mock defense. “No, milady. I wouldn’t dare.”
He caught Gracelynn’s gaze through the rear-view mirror. He grinned a secret smile before winking, once.
My sister blushed and she stuck her tongue out, before slumping back against the backseat.