Page 43 of Red Masquerade

Mother placed her hand on my arm, her face soft for one of the first times in months. There was a genuine spark of happiness in her eyes. “You will be fine, I assure you.”

Yes, and you hated your husband, I wanted to shout.Becauseyoudidn’t get the choice.

The fire within my lungs turned suffocating, smoke eating up all the breathable air. My heart thumped quickly against the cage of my chest, and though I willed myself to calm, it beat on, the rhythm like a runaway train.

I shut my eyes like I could turn off the light of the world, to pause the dreadful melodrama that was my current situation.

Lucas kept talking, kept filling Mother in on my potential husband—the family’s wealth, the grandness of their estate in thecountry, the past accomplishments of the heir—but I didn’t hear it.

Mother was elated—all her fussing and primping finally coming to fruition.

Perhaps she was happy I’d be a whole ocean away. That I would quiet down and become someone else’s problem, though she’d never say it.

What if I traveled all the way across the ocean just to find a bitter man that wanted nothing to do with me? I would be trapped, with a vast expanse of water in between me and the world I knew. Far away from New York and my family and Flora and…Adam.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful!” Mother suddenly beamed at Lucas, and her excitement at the prospect of my marrying was clear on her face—almost as if she was the one excited to marry. “I don’t believe I’ve been this happy since you married Lucille,” my mother nearly swooned. Her hand found Lucas’ arm, steadying herself in her seat.

He grimaced. “Yes, what a happy time in our lives. My dear sister will finally be wed.” Loathing dripped from him.

“And look where Lucy is now,” I bit out, unable to stop myself. “Bedridden and miserable.”

Mother looked aghast. “Helena!”

Lucas only laughed. “Lucy is doing what every wife does: providing the family with an heir.”

“An heir towhat?” It was a stupid question—money, of course. The company. The family name. “Is that all she is good for?”

Mother gasped. “Of course not!” But she sputtered and could not provide any evidence to the contrary.

Lucas waved a hand. “So what, if that’s all I need her for?”

I scowled. “Lucy is a woman, a human being. She is not your wife simply so you canuseher.” I believed the words wholeheartedly, but I knew it was foolish speaking them aloud.What else was a wife good for?

“What do you think your husband would be usingyoufor?”

The words sent an icy chill down my spine, bile in my mouth.

Lucas looked down his nose at me. “You will marry, and your union will be consummated, and he will bed you until you give him an heir.”

I wanted to vomit.

“Lucas,” my mother said in soft reprimand, a glance around the room. “This is not proper talk for the table—”

“When he is your husband—when you arehiswife—he is free to do with you as he pleases,” Lucas went on. “Youdo not make that choice. Your husband will.”

I stood from my seat. I was shaking my head, the room spinning.

“Sit down,” Mother hissed. The patrons at tables near us began to glance our way at the commotion. She turned to Lucas with pleading in her eyes. “Son, please.”

My heart pounded against my ribs, and I felt myself shrinking under the smirk of my brother, under the eyes of all those around us.

Mother laughed nervously when Lucas only continued to glare at me. “We can talk further about this later—”

“No.”

“Yes, do sit down,sister,” Lucas sneered. “You are making a fool of yourself.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and resisted the urge to throw my glass of water in his face, knowing it would only ruin me in the eyes of the society that watched us, ruin what reputation I did have.