To Love, Honor, and Obey... by Dayna Quince

Author:Dayna Quince
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dayna Quince

Chapter 9

Patience wandered through the halls, her eyes gritty and swollen. She searched for her mother—or anyone really—so she wouldn't feel so alone. That was how she felt now, alone. She wasn't upset Lord Willowton chose her sister over her. Truthfully, she didn't care. Her biggest fear was being alone, being shunned by family and friends. What would she do now? Where would she go? She needed comfort, she needed a shoulder to cry on, and a steady voice to tell her it would all be all right. She hoped she would find that in her mother. With trepidation, she searched for her, unsure of the welcome she would receive. After Lord Willowton had aided the duke to his carriage, her mother had stormed from the dining room. Patience had retired to her own room and dressed for bed, but the oppressing weight of her predicament got the better of her, and so she searched for her mother.

She heard the shattering of glass from somewhere below and went downstairs to investigate. Turning down the darkened hall, she saw a shaft of light coming from the door of her father’s study that was open just a crack. She could hear mumbling, and as she moved closer, the voice was recognizable as her mother’s. She approached the door and pushed it slowly open. Her mother was sitting on the edge of her father’s old desk, a tumbler of liquor clutched tightly in her hand.

“Mother?” Patience entered slowly, wary of the scattered pieces of glass on the floor from what used to be a crystal decanter. Her mother didn't move as she entered, only continued to stare at the empty hearth. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? I'm lamenting the loss of my respectability. I will never be a respected matron in town, and I will never be welcome in the drawing rooms of the matrons here as well. I've lost everything.”

“But what about me?”

Her mother turned and sneered at her. “What about you? To think of the fortune I spent on governesses and gowns to turn you into a proper young lady, and this is how you repay me? At least Obedience had the foresight to whore herself to a duke for the hand of his son. You let your greatest attribute be stolen. It was all for nothing. You are ruined, wasted goods that no man wants to touch.” Her mother turned to the portrait of her husband that hung behind the desk. “Why did you burden me with such daughters? Harlots! Good for nothing but falling on their backs.”

Patience cringed and stepped back. Her heel stepped on something sharp and she yelped. She sank to the floor and looked at her foot. A shard of glass was wedged in her heel, and it was bleeding profusely. She looked to her mother pleadingly, but the woman who looked back at her had no softness or compassion.

“You're pathetic. When I was a girl of your age, my mother told me something very important.

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