There was no doubt in my mind that my brother would do anything for me. Not just him, but my father, my mother, and my other siblings as well. They all loved and cared for me so very much and I wished not to worry them, but my thoughts would either shock them or cause them unease.
Often, I felt as though I were a rare and precious bird, trapped within a cage of gold, on exhibition for the world. It was my duty to appease my viewers, and truly, I did my best, but there were times when it was all so arduous. I wished to be free. And the only time in my memory I had felt such freedom was in my youth…with him, Evander.
Since my mother was his godmother, we were afforded many opportunities to speak with each other growing up. He frequented our home freely, though our encounters always took place under the watchful eyes of my governess or lady’s maids. Evander had the keen ability to see through all my acts. When my sisters had all but driven me mad, and I said nothing, allowing them their way, he knew I cursed them in my mind, and would walk by and say the curse for me to hear. When I wished to eat more at the table than what was becoming of a young lady, he would secretly have a dessert saved and left for me in my rooms. Books that had been withheld from ladies or amended for decency, he would lend me in the full version.
And when I was sixteen, he made me this one promise: When we are married, you will be free to be however you wish tobe. I swear it.
I had stared at him in awe and wished to marry him right then. But my family would not allow it. My mother said I was still far too young, despite knowing others my age who had married. We were of two great and noble houses, so all things had to be done in order and with the utmost care. She believed I must wait until the opportune time. I did not think it would be a whole two years later. But once my mother was determined, there was no winning against her. I was mightily cross with her.
But finally, on the day of my coming out, as everyone else fluttered about nervous at being before the queen, I was calm. It was said that I looked like royalty and had been trained as such all my life. The truth of the matter was that my thoughts and emotions were elsewhere—on a future that I had assumed would begin with him. Several gentlemen called upon me the day after, but I gave no heed to any of them as I waited only for him.
I waited in my very best dress.
I waited until the sun went down, and my mother forced me to bed. The very next day, I waited again. For five days, I waited, confident that whatever held him would soon end, and he would appear before me. Until the sixth day came, and we got word of a wedding.
His wedding.
Taken aback and confused, I did not speak or eat that entire day. It was only when it had long been dark that agony ripped through me. I should have gone into the garden. I should have held my hands over my mouth. But all of me hurt so deeply and thoroughly that when I sobbed, it was as if I were dying. The sound of my grief woke the whole house. My mother stayed with me, which was wise, for I soon collapsed.
We returned to our country estate immediately to avoid the talk of the ton. I wished to never return to London, for it was the place where my dreams had died. When my family went down for the season, I always remained at Belclere Castle. Until now.
I wanted to refuse their demand that I return, but then my brother reminded me that my sister Hathor would have her special day ruined, as the talk would be unbearable.
I believed it would be unbearable either way. My return would cause a stir. My absence would also cause a stir, but at least in my absence, I could pretend to be ignorant of it. However, that would be selfish. And I had been selfish for four years, allowing my mother and sisters to face the ton withoutme.
All agreed it was time for me to move on, even me. But on to what?
I opened my eyes to the greenery of the world outside.
“And here I thought you intended to sleep the whole way,” my brother said.
“Forgive me, brother. Have I missed anything of interest?” When my gaze fell to him, there was a soft yet woeful smile on his face, as if I were a wounded animal that needed the lightest care.
“Of course not. I only jest. Though I do wonder how you manage to sleep with this jostling,” he replied just as the carriage shook violently. “Gently!” he called out to our driver.
“Beg your pardon, my lord. The road is not good this season,” he replied.
“Then why on earth did he take this road?” Damon frowned, looking at his wife, who just gave him a slight glance, but it was enough for him to hold his tongue.
“London fashion has changed since you were here last, Aphrodite. We must go to the modiste together to get you new dresses,” Silva said. I was not sure if it was the musings of my imagination, but she always seemed to become more rigid when she spoke to me. Perhaps she was still not accustomed to being part of our family.
“We are sisters now. You may call me Odite or Dite if you prefer,” I replied. “And yes, I will accompany you to the modiste, though I do not believe I will be in want of any dresses. I am sure my mother is more than prepared.”
“Hmm.” Damon chuckled, nodding in agreement before looking at his wife. “Knowing our mother, the modiste is already in our home, awaiting our arrival.”
“I fear Mother will not be pleased with how big I have gotten,” I said.
“Forgive me, but big where?” Silva laughed, her brown eyes looking me over.
“Her imagination.” Damon laughed along with her. “Sister, you must not aim to fit Mother’s standards of beauty. They do not exist in this world. You now embody the dream of almost all young ladies everywhere.”
“He is right.” Silva let out a deep breath. “If you are self-deprecating, what hope is there for the rest of us mere mortals?”
“You both hold me in too high regard,” I said. I did not seek to be self-deprecating, nor did I believe there was anything wrong with me. But my brother was correct—our mother’s standards were not achievable. She remained more unnerved by my aging than I did. The slightest growth or change in my appearance would not escape her eye.
“Odite, you are a Du Bell. High regard is the standard to which you are meant to be held.” Damon nodded as if his words were gospel. To him, I was sure they were. “Worry not, sister. Truly, I believe this season shall be one you will not forget. So long as you allow yourself to enjoy it.”
“Of course.” It was all I could bring myself to say in return, as I shifted my gaze to the trees and blue sky above. Then, without notice, the whole carriage shook with such force we were jostled out of place.