A Vixen for the Duke: Chapter 1

Harriet shifted on the couch, the brocade scratching against her fingertips as she pressed them into the cushion. She wished she could just fall right through everything and just end up somewhere where no one could see her or find her. Somewhere where she could just think without all the noise of everyone else’s pity and upset.

She felt numb. In fact, once she had shimmied out of her wedding dress and tumbled back onto her bed, she had fallen asleep. That had been the very last time she’d cried. Instead, her anguish had manifested in other ways. She had stayed up all through the night and spent the day sleeping and hiding from the harsh sunlight. It felt so grating to her as if the world was so happy and light when it just didn’t deserve to be. Her life was ruined, and the sun was shining?

“Harriet,” Lucy said. Her voice was usually monotone and disinterested, but for once, it had a softer edge to it. Harriet winced, hating that her younger sister sounded so unlike herself in the face of her greatest trauma. “Are you… okay?”

Harriet snapped her head up and looked at her sister, pushing all of her wild, curly hair out of her face. “I am fine.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, and she leaned back. “Oh.”

Harriet’s eyebrows narrowed.

“I thought you were crying, but…”

“If you had any natural emotion, you’d know that, sometimes, you can just sort of…” Harriet exhaled through her nose and stared straight ahead at the crystal vase on the coffee table. “Just sort of cry yourself all out until there’s nothing left.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes widening slightly as she leaned back on the couch. She crossed her arms. “You know, Harriet, just because I keep things in a little better does not mean that I don’t have emotions.”

“

?” Harriet turned to her sister, using her hand to emphasise her completely dry eyes. “I am not even crying!”

“Do you think…” Lucy began, her words tentative. She had often slowed down her speech whenever she worried that something she might say could be received poorly. It had always been the perfect warning for Harriet to steel herself before her younger sister said something that frustrated her. “That maybe you are not crying because you are not sad?”

Harriet’s head jutted forward, and her jaw hung, her lips parted slightly. “That is the most hurtful thing you could have possibly—”

“Harriet,” Lucy whispered sharply, “just listen for a minute, will you?”

Harriet turned her head and looked at her sister for a moment. She felt the pain in her chest tearing at her, just as it had the past few days, punctuated by how distraught her parents had been and how much Margaret and Emma had pitied her. Her family loved her, and if they knew that they were making things worse, they would have done anything to correct their mistakes. Harriet, however, didn’t have the heart to tell them that their worry was making her feel like the future looked bleak. But it was just as well. The future was undoubtedly bleak for a jilted bride.

Lucy had never pitied her. Instead, she sat, leaning back on the couch comfortably, looking her older sister down with her own particular brand of tough love. Harriet had always hated Lucy’s lack of tact, but today, it felt refreshing, as if Lucy was the only person who could see the situation clearly.

“You are sad because…”

“Because Jeremy left me at the altar.”

“Of course.” Lucy nodded, tucking her pin-straight hair behind her ear.

She and Harriet couldn’t have looked any less related. Lucy had inherited the brusqueness and straight hair of their father, while Harriet had taken on the melodrama and frizzy, curly hair of their mother.

Lucy sighed. “But what does that ? What did you lose?”

Harriet exhaled, her chest deflating as she thought about it. “I will not be married. No… no children. No beautiful sunny house full of flowers with the little pond out back. And no little girl that looks just like me running down the hallway, playing in the gardens, getting dirt on her favourite pair of shoes. No fairytale romance to make me weak in the knees and no—”

“Jeremy?”

“No… yes, of course, no Jeremy.”

Lucy clapped softly. “See? Look at how refreshing that is, to know that that floppy-eared toad of a man is the least of your sorrows.”

“He’s—” Harriet stuck her finger out, ready to combat her sister’s words, but nothing came out. Lucy was right. When Harriet thought of everything that she’d lost, Jeremy was merely a bridge to her destination. If he’d used her, then maybe she’d used him just as well. Lucy was also right about his ears. They were a tad bit large. “He’s…” Harriet exhaled, falling against the couch in a huff, her eyes stinging with emotion, but still, no tears came out.

“I know it is horrible to hear, but—”

Harriet groaned.

“

, I think you love the idea of love, and maybe not that loathsome man.”

Harriet and Lucy sat in silence for a few minutes. Harriet frowned, rolling the words of her younger sister on her tongue as the silence settled around them. “That’s just preposterous,” she whispered. “But it doesn’t matter, because no smart man will want to marry a woman that was jilted at the altar. He left with not only my reputation but the entire family’s reputation.”

Lucy folded her hands in her lap and sniffed. “Father is likely going to send you to the country while he gets this under control,” she said quietly. “His business will likely suffer.”

“I know,” Harriet agreed. “Margaret has a newborn, so I don’t want to trouble her. Maybe Emma and the Duke will—”

“They, uhm…” Lucy grimaced. “Oh my God, Emma will kill me for telling anyone before she does, but—”

“Are they with child?”

Lucy lowered her head and nodded.

“How exciting…” Harriet sighed. It was exciting, but everyone else’s joy felt just a little suffocating at the moment. “That leaves…”

“Aunt—” Lucy choked on a laugh. “Aunt Bridget?”

“Oh, my goodness, Father would never—”

“It was a joke. He would never send you to live with her. She’s been a little since her husband passed away. I mean, that’s what I have heard, at least. I think there is a good reason we don’t know her very well.”

“No…” Harriet shook her head and stood up. “This is… This is perfect. I mean, listen, if we are being realistic like Father always wants me to be, then I think it is safe to say that I have no prospects and that I will likely spend my future alone. Who better to help me carve my own path than a woman who has navigated a similar struggle and whose reputation… erm… precedes her?”

“Harriet—”

“Lucy!”

Harriet couldn’t help but feel the smallest bit of relief in the last ten days. If anyone could understand her without pitying her, then her aunt Bridget was the best person that she could ask for. Maybe a few months could help her learn what it would mean to be a self-sufficient woman. Her father would agree. There was nowhere else for her to go.