Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“Really, Rosemunde? Food? That’s the last thing you need.” She waved a thin, bony hand around. “Perhaps once you take it upon yourself to lose two to three stone it would make sense for you to join us for the morning repast.”
Pain spiked through her but she ignored her mother’s comments as best she could. She’d heard them as long as she could recall. She made her way to the sideboard, picked up a bowl and lifted the lid on the porridge.
Her stomach growled as she ladled herself some of the thick meal. Normally her mother didn’t like to have such a thing in the house, claiming it was for those less well off than a viscount, but personally, she loved it. Especially how it warmed her from the inside out.
A small snort escaped. They were far less well off than her parents were determined to have the other members of the ton know. What they had here was much thicker than some she saw those on the street eating, and she had stuff to put in it to sweeten it up a bit.
Carrying her bowl to the long table, she claimed a seat at the far end, away from her family, kept her head down and lifted a spoonful to her mouth. Her father, Bradford Fletcher, Viscount of Barberaton, strode in the room, pulling her gaze from the polished tabletop and white linen beside her bowl.
While her father was still a tall man, she could see how the past few years had taken their toll on him. His hair no longer remained jet black but had more than a light sprinkling of gray in the strands. Belly no longer flat, her father carried a bit more weight than he used to as well. Didn’t stop him from being an intimidating figure.
The man skimmed the room, lingering over her as she slowly ate another bite of food before she lowered her gaze once more. Conversation moved around her that she didn’t pay any attention to. She wasn’t exactly one that her family tried to include in discussions.
It’s more about berating me and criticizing my weight.
“Rosemunde.”
Her mother’s sharp tone stopped her as she had begun to rise. “Yes?”
“Where are you going?”
Suspicion flared but she kept her expression calm. “My walk.”
Blue eyes narrowed on her. “Your father has something to discuss with you.” A frivolous wave of her hand. “Rather, something to inform you of.”
At that, her siblings—two sisters and a younger brother—all rose and walked out of the room. Even the servants, how few there were, vacated.
“Tell her, Bradford. Tell her or I will.”
Sliding her stare from her scowling mother to her father, whose face looked to have been set in stone, she blinked. Waiting.
“You’re engaged.”
Her breath shot out and she coughed before pulling herself back under a false sense of control. “I’m what?” She fisted her hands, ignoring the pain lacing the one with the injury.
“You should be grateful any man is willing to put up with you,” her mother pointed out. “Especially with you being so fat.”
“Harriet.” Her father didn’t have to raise his voice. Never had. Again, he was intimidating.
“Not like it isn’t true, Bradford. You’ve said it enough yourself.” She sniffed with indignation.
The fact her father felt that way when he used to treat her like his princess cut away further at her floundering heart.
“It will be official when he arrives in a few months.” Her father’s tone left no room for discussion on the matter.
She moved her mouth but words wouldn’t fall from her lips. Surely she’d misheard. Swallowing multiple times, she licked her lips and tried once more.
“I don’t want to get married. And who am I supposed to be marrying?”
Her mother huffed. “At this age, what you want is irrelevant.”
My wants have been irrelevant for as long as I remember.
Her father lifted his chin. “You’re marrying Castor Adimari.” He raised his fork. “The exchange will be good for the family. Not that you need to concern yourself with such things. It is time for you to move on and have a life outside this house.”
Inching back to the door, she ran the name over in her head. Not one she knew, but she didn’t make it a point to know all of the people her parents had dealings with. They never deigned to share anything with her.
“He’s expecting a wife with good behavior, so until he is here, I expect you to behave in a manner appropriate for the daughter to a man of my station.”
Grinding her jaw, she stepped out of the room, mind whirling. Beyond insulted that nothing she ever did or how she looked was good enough for her family. Hurt that he felt he needed to pawn her off on someone to get her out of his hair.
“She didn’t look happy, Harriet.” Her father’s voice reached her.