“Such a shame. She had so much promise.”
She could swear she heard some maids talking about her back in Willowbrook as she crossed the hallway into the garden.
“If only she had waited. I bet people would be trailing behind her like butterflies.” The first maid had said to the other.
“What do you know? She doesn't have any prospects. Perhaps that is why she did what she did.” The other maid had replied.
“You think she wanted to get caught?” The first one had asked again.
The other maid had shrugged. “Who knows what runs through the mind of these people?”
At that moment, Juliet had loudly cleared her throat, announcing her presence. Like frightened ice, the maids had dispersed into different directions, scampering for fear of their jobs and, most possibly, their lives.
“We're here, my lady.” The horseman announced, pulling her straight out of her thoughts. Juliet felt the carriage stop and the horseman alight from his position. He walked to her side of the carriage and gently held her hand as she climbed down.
Aunt Grace's house was almost as big as the Willowbrook Manor, which was saying a lot because she lived alone with onlya few maids. As Juliet gently walked across the fields leading to the house's entrance, she wondered if her Aunt ever got lonely, living alone in such a big house.
Perhaps that is why she throws such huge parties.She thought to herself.
She was let in almost instantly and led into the drawing room.
“Lady Grace will be with you shortly.” The footman announced, bare seconds before leaving Juliet all by herself. She was left to her thoughts one more time.
I would like to marry Lady Juliet.
At first, those words had been a source of intrigue to her. How could a total stranger, one she had met for the first time in those gardens propose a marriage at the exact same spot on the same day? She could still hear those words in Weston's voice. The intrigue faded away quickly and soon turned into fear.
What if she was only about to trade one prison for another? Will she have it easy at the Estfield Manor after getting married to the Marquess? Will she have it even worse? Who is Estfield's version of Adam and Camilla? She met Lady Beatrice at the gardens that fateful night, and she wasn't that different from her father—rigidly minded, stuck on the rules that guided the society, and most especially, easily irritated.
“Oh, darling.” Grace's voice called, pulling her out of her spiral once again. She turned to see her aunt approaching her, arms wide. Grace pulled Juliet into a warm hug. One she didn'tknow she needed until it was happening. She could feel herself sinking into Grace's embrace. She wanted to remain like that for as long as she could.
“Your feelings must be in all places now, aren't they?” Grace asked.
“The gossip sheets might one day be the death of me.” Juliet replied, breaking the hug herself. They both lowered themselves onto chairs facing each other.
“I know this will not help, but scandals like these don't live for long. In a few days, some Duke is going to do something worse, and people will have something else to talk about.”
Juliet grew silent. While her aunt was right to an extent, it still didn't completely hide the fact that she was going through a hard time. She wanted her life erased from people's mouths. She wanted them to know one way or another that there had been a great misunderstanding, and she was nothing but a victim of a baseless rumor.
“I received some horrible faces on my way here. I don't see those ending anytime soon.” Juliet replied, unable to see an optimistic side to things.
Aunt Grace grabbed her hands and squeezed them gently.
“I promise you, no gossip goes on for long. It's what makes them effective. They're short-lived.”
“And how would you know that?”
Grace slackened her grip on Juliet's hands and leaned back.
“Because I have gone through this too.”
Juliet frowned. “Really?”
“It happened so long ago. I do not want to bore you with horrible stories.” Grace replied, waving at the air to stress the lack of seriousness.
“What happened?”
“It is not important for you to know.”
