"Do not be in a hurry, the right man will come at last.”

Jane Austen

A week before the expected wedding, the Duke left the palace for as long as a day and a half, accompanied by a number of his courtiers, including Estley. It was a gift of fate, and I realized: now or never. Dorion, as we have already managed to determine, did not have a very sharp mind, and I should take advantage of it now, when potential advisers are out of his reach.

Thus, at the moment I, as ten days before, am sitting in a comfortable chair across from the Marquis. Only this time we chat sitting at the desk in the office. This was at my initiative. I wanted the atmosphere of our conversation to be as business-like as possible.

"So, lord Marquis, I have come to you on behalf of Lady Almikonte to discuss some details of the upcoming wedding."

"I see. You're going to talk to me again about how Lady Mireya doesn't want to marry me." The Marquis does not show much enthusiasm towards the topic of conversation, nor does he appear very alarmed by it.

"Not exactly," I say slowly, pleased that my words cause him to perk up a bit.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lady Mireya is not opposed to your marriage in principle," I begin to explain. "Rather, there are certain circumstances that frighten her, and make her feel somewhat apprehensive about the wedding."

"What circumstances?" Dorion leans forward.

I put on the table the book which I had previously held in my lap.

"I don't know if you're familiar with this story. It is likely that you're not, since it's usually swept under the rug. You see, there was a woman who was married off to a certain Marquis among the ancestors of Lady Mireya. The decision was made by her relatives. She had never met her fiancé prior to the engagement, so it was not a marriage of love. Rather, it was more of a mutually beneficial alliance, in which the groom received a massive dowry, and the bride's family — some land and much needed connections. Does this story remind of you anything?"

"Suppose it does," reluctantly says the Marquis. "So what?"

"Well, her groom — or rather, her husband — killed his wife shortly after the wedding. He was only interested in her dowry. After receiving the money, he hastened to get rid of the woman, in order to be able to marry another. This time for love."

The Marquis purses his lips, turns his head toward the window, then back to me.

"So what?" he repeats. "Even if something of the sort happened to that woman, what does it have to do with me and Lady Mireya? Such cases are extremely rare, and I do not have any relation to that groom."

"But Lady Mireya is related to the bride," I retort. "By the way, if you have doubts about anything I said, you are welcome to read this book at your leisure." I point with a nod to the volume now lying on the table. "This is the historical records that describe some details from the Almikonte family's past. The story I told you is included in the seventh chapter. Lady Mireya has known it since childhood. Of course, she can't help but notice the obvious similarity of her own situation to that of the poor woman. Some even say that Lady Mireya looks like her. Is it really surprising that she is afraid to repeat the fate of her relative?"

"So what do you suggest?" frowns Dorion.

"I do not know." I shrug expressively. «Think about it. Find a way to convince Lady Mireya that nothing like that will happen to her. Provide some sort of guarantee. Then she will offer you her hand herself on the way to the altar."

The Marquis frowns, not sure where I am going with this.

"Are you asking me to talk to her?" he suggests at last.

I chuckle skeptically.

"I do not doubt your eloquence, my Lord, but words are not enough. It is unlikely that they would serve as a guarantee."

"What then?"

"Well..." I shrug vaguely. "For example, you could give her a guarantee in writing."

Flashing me an unhappy look Dorion rises from the desk. The chair he pushes back responds with a protesting squeak. Hands behind his back, the Marquis takes a few steps toward the window. The prospect of providing any promise in writing is obviously not filling him with delight.

"So what do you think I could write that would be so special?" he grumbles. "That I will not kill lady Mireya after the wedding? Honestly, Lady Inessa, it sounds ridiculous!"

"Of course," I agree. "Most important, it is completely pointless. What kind of guarantee does such a statement provide? None whatsoever. Clearly, if you were to commit a murder, you would definitely attempt to arrange things so that no one would suspect you. And if you were to be caught, the presence of such a document would not improve your situation; it would only make things worse."

"In that case I do not understand what you want from me."

"Let's think together. We need to find an option that will suit both sides. For example, you can promise that you will not marry again. This, of course, does not guarantee complete safety for Lady Mireya, but in any case it significantly reduces the risk. If the death of your wife does not clear the way to a second marriage, you will not have an incentive to murder her. In any case, the incentive which Lady Almikonte fears."

A few vertical wrinkles form on the Marquis' forehead.

"No, that's too much," he concludes after thinking about it for a bit. "How can I know what the future holds? We are all mortal. One of us will die first, without any murder — either Lady Mireya or myself. What if she dies from some disease twenty years from now, and I would like to remarry? Do you think it would be logical for me to sign a document that would deprive me of this possibility? Just because of the passing fancy of a whimsical girl?"

"This girl could find a way to avoid this marriage altogether, in which case you can kiss the dowry goodbye," I remind him bluntly. "But you are right to some extent. Of course, depriving you of the possibility of ever remarrying is not exactly fair either. We could work on adjusting the conditions..." I snap my fingers loudly. "Oh, I know! Our contract will grant you the right to re-marry. But you would promise that if you were to enter a second marriage you would give up Lady Mireya's dowry. Then she can be sure that you would not get rid of her for the money. Well, are you happy with this version?"

I sit back — all smiles.

"Not really," Dorion disappoints me. "Let's go back to my example. If I were to become a widower and after twenty years I decide to re-marry, I would then have to give up the dowry that is rightfully mine?"

Pursing my lips, I pretend to mull it over.

"Well, then, let's set a time limit on the arrangement. We'll add to the document the date of your wedding and you'll promise to renounce the dowry in case you remarry within, say... ten years?"

Marquis mulls it over for a bit, but then he shakes his head again.

"Ten years is still a long time," he grimaces. "Please believe me; I'm not going to kill your Lady Almikonte. I won't ever lay a finger on her, but you never know what can happen in so many years!"

I take a deep breath, as though urging myself to be patient.

"Well, what period of time do you suggest?"

"Two years.'' says the Marquis, innocently looking up at the sky.

That's too little time," I reply in a tone I learnt from our cook that I once heard bargaining with a vendor . "Your hypothetical lover could very well agree to wait for two years.

"How much do you want?" The Marquis joins the bargaining, and I'm not even sure that he is reluctant about it.

"Let's go with the middle ground: five years," I suggest. Yes, I know the average of the two proposals is six years, but is it worth arguing with the Marquis because of such trifles? "Theoretically, of course, you could nurture such an ambitious plan, but it is still unlikely. Your mistress would hardly be willing to wait for you for so long. During this time, you may well become tired of her. In short, I take it upon myself to persuade Lady Mireya to agree to marry you on these terms."

"Fine — let's agree on five," Dorion surrenders.

Apparently, he estimates that the probability of re-marriage in such a short period of time is highly unlikely.

"Excellent. So we are in agreement. You'll sign the paper, according to which you will not remarry within five years after you swear the oath before the altar, or, if you do, you will then give up lady Mireya's dowry. Right?"

The Marquis nods.

"I'll immediately instruct our secretary to draw up this document," I say briskly. "Then he will give it to you, you will look it over to see whether you are satisfied with everything, and if everything is okay, you will sign."

"There remains one question — the date," reminds the Marquis.

As if I had even for a moment forgotten about it! I shrug.

"A week from today, as originally planned? Although... in your place I would hurry. You know, Lady Mireya is quite a temperamental woman. She might change her mind. So long as she agrees to this proposal, it is better to seize the moment. Who knows, she might dissuade the Duke about the feasibility of your marriage during that week. However, it is up to you. I absolutely do not care what date the secretary puts in the agreement."

"I'll think it over," says the Marquis with an air of importance. "If we want to speed up the process, what are the options?"

I shrug, still indifferent.

"Whenever you want — even today. Basically, Lady Mireya is ready. Her attitude towards the wedding is down-to-earth, without extravagant romance, so she doesn't need a lavish celebration with a multitude of guests and ceremonies. When you decide, just let me know."

The Marquis decides fairly quickly. Certainly I make sure to take care to ensure this — incidentally, it costs Mireya a tidy sum. However, the money comes from the treasury of the Duke, so who cares? In short, I make sure the Marquis receives some information that the Duke has allegedly been planning to break off his sister's engagement, because he has found another candidate for a husband. Hence, that is the reason for his departure — to negotiate the potential marriage with a foreign duke.

Upon hearing this, Dorion realizes that the dowry is about to slip through his fingers, and starts to worry. Because he is worried, he begins to hurry. So I do not find it surprising when barely two hours after our conversation the Marquis wishes to speak with me. By then I have already prepared the document about the waiving of the dowry with a blank space for the date.

"Lady Inessa, I've been thinking..." Dorion tries very hard to sound casual, but his whole appearance radiates nervousness. "Truly, why waste time? We have agreed on everything. And as you have rightly pointed out, Lady Mireya indeed might change her mind... Why don’t we hold the wedding today?"

"Today?" I feign surprise. "Well, I do not know... But what about the Duke? He's out of town. Getting married in the absence of her brother... it would be bad form, don't you think?"

"Oh, Lady Inessa, such trivial details, for the gods’ sake!" the Marquis strongly protests. "The Duke will only be glad that everything has ended in the best possible way. On his return he'll have a pleasant surprise waiting for him, that's all. Besides, you yourself have said that the relationship between the siblings is very strained. Is it so important to Lady Mireya that the Duke attend the ceremony?"

I press my fingers to my frowning forehead and stare at the mosaic floor.

"You know, you might be right. The presence of the Duke is making Lady Mireya nervous recently. It is possible that his absence at the ceremony of marriage will help her feel more at ease. Well, you have convinced me." I smile at Dorion coquettishly. "I do not know how you manage it. Of course, I'll have to ask Lady Mireya if she agrees to speed up events in this manner. But I think she'll be happy to accept your offer."

"Well, that's good." The Marquis is visibly relieved. «And where will the ceremony take place?"

"Wherever you want," I respond. "We can do it in the temple of the palace. Or in any other temple in the city."

"I believe in the palace would be better," decides Dorion.

"Oh yes, of course!" I nod. "After all, here the wedding cannot be concealed from the many relatives of Lady Mireya. They'll descend upon us as soon as the preparations begin. Most important, it is the only place in the city where we can accommodate them all."

"Oh, does Lady Mireya have so many relatives living nearby?" Dorion asks warily.

"Oh yes!" I cheerfully reassure him. "Didn't you know? Seriously, their names are legion! In particular, there are many elderly aunts, old maids, cousins, uncles who love to edify everyone within a radius of ten miles. Lots of little nieces and nephews from two to ten years old — you know, they like to scream so amusingly when they all get together, like a little gang of bandits. I'm sure you will love it! Besides, you will need to become acquainted personally with each and every family member. Dear Marquis, you cannot even imagine what a big friendly family you're about to marry into!"

Marquis looks so miserable that it makes me think that maybe we came up with this whole wedding plan for nothing. We should have just painted him a colorful picture of the perspective of the meetings with the numerous (and nonexistent) relatives that awaited him. Put a bit of pressure on him, and he would have canceled the marriage himself!

"You know," the Marquis hopefully looks me in the eye," maybe we should be married in the city after all? There are in fact many beautiful temples there. Not that I care either way, but perhaps the bride will find it more romantic?

"You think so?" Again I frown and purse my lips." Well, why not. There is a very good temple, with a really romantic atmosphere."

"That's good!" The Marquis squeezes my hand to celebrate. His hand is again warm and sweaty; however, under the current circumstances this is hardly surprising. "And let's not invite too many people. You said yourself the town temple will be too small for all the relatives. After all, you must agree, it would be not good if some of them come and there is no space for them."

"Oh, yes, it would be quite awkward," I agree." Very well, lord Marquis. I take it upon myself to persuade Lady Mireya. As you can see, I try to go along with your wishes as much as possible."

We arrive at the chapel around six o'clock in the evening. Hasty preparations are being made, but we are assured that we will not have to wait for a long time. Both the groom and the bride are accompanied only by the people closest and most loyal to them, including some from their retinue. The document we have brought along with us is signed directly under the echoing arches of the church.

I observe the commotion from my seat in the last row, in the corner, as the flowers are being arranged and the passage down the aisle between the pews is cleared. The church is drowning in shadow and a pleasant chill wafts from the walls. Despite the noise of the preparations, a sense of calm and tranquility emanates from the building itself.

"Lady Inessa!"

Audrey settles next to me and disturbs my solitude. I turn to her and nod, indicating that I am listening.

"Be careful," whispers the lady in waiting, "It seems to me that Lord Estley suspects something. He called me in before leaving."

"What did he say?"

That is quite interesting, and a little alarming.

"He told me not to let you out of my sight," the girl replies. "To follow you around at all times."

"At all times?" I ask.

"Yes," Audrey nods. "I guess he didn't mean it literally. But in any case, this has never happened before. This is something very unusual. I even tried to protest, saying that if I were to be always by your side, you would figure out what my assignment was."

"So what was his response?"

"He shrugged it off dismissively and said that it's not what's important at the moment. In short, I think he is waiting for you to make a move. Maybe he suspects that you are going to find a way to get rid of the Marquis."

She looks pointedly at the back of Dorion, who is nervously pacing between the pews.

"I see."

In actual fact, I see exactly nothing. Is it a suspicion on his part that I would be able to take advantage of the absence of the duke? Or can he read minds?

"Thank you, Audrey. You may go."

"What should I tell Lord Estley when he returns?"

"Say that you followed his instructions. You can tell him what I was doing and with whom I met. The contents of all my conversations you could not hear. In addition, I hope that by the time he returns this information will not be relevant to changing anything."

As soon as Audrey rises from the bench, I see the priest approaching, traditionally dressed in a green robe.

"Everything is ready," he says.

"Thank you, Father. In this case, we should start."

The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch. It is traditional, solemn and measured. The priest's words resonate under the arches of the chapel. Words of prayer float towards the ceiling and light echoes of them return to the group of people gathered at the altar. Do you agree... Do you agree... As expected, the bride and groom both give a positive answer.

"I pronounce you husband and wife, now and forever!" loudly says the priest.

Then comes the time for congratulations, which are rather subdued. A small problem arises when the groom attempts to kiss the bride. Mireya replies curtly and a bit maliciously, "Not in front of everybody" and hastens to lower her veil, so that it covers her face. Dorion does not insist too much. After all, the most important — namely, the bride's dowry – he has attained, and everything else can wait.

We return to the palace close to nightfall. The newlywed bride immediately rushes off to hide in her chambers, separately from her husband. Then, half an hour later I pay a late visit to the Marquis, allegedly suffering from loneliness.

I do not come alone. I am accompanied by Audrey (I decide to give the lady in waiting the opportunity to fulfill Estley's orders), two guards (just in case, for general security) and a dapper young man dressed in a long coat. His tight trousers are tucked into high jockey boots.

It is too early for the Marquis to have gone to bed, but he does not look very alert, which is not at all surprising considering the busy day he has had. In addition, it seems, he has already managed to help himself to a generous portion of wine.

"What is the matter?" he asks after I enter, accompanied by the young man. The rest of my companions are waiting outside the door. "You came to tell me where my dearest spouse is?"

"Not really." My voice sounds calm and businesslike. "Lord Dorion, allow me to introduce you to Leonard Mathieu; he is a novice artist of the theater, but shows great promise. You must know that Lady Mireya patronizes the theater and artists?"

My companion smiles, his whole facial expression making it clear that he considers the praise excessive, and politely bows to the Marquis. The latter reacts to the new acquaintance quite indifferently.

"So what?" he asks, looking only at me.

"Look closely," I say. "It is not the first time you are seeing Mr. Mathieu. As recently as two hours ago, he brilliantly played the role of a priest in a wedding ceremony held in one of the city's chapels."

The Marquis looks annoyed at first, not understanding why he should have an interest in some kind of a theatrical presentation in which some unknown actor played some priest. Then it dawns on him. Dorion gathers himself, straightens his back, clenches his hands into fists and frowns, as he begins to see the whole situation.

"So what did you hope to accomplish by that?" he finally asks grimly. «Tomorrow the Duke will return, and I will still marry Lady Mireya. Only this time the Duke himself will make sure that there is no fraud."

"That's quite a possible course of events," I nod, modestly clasping my hands in front of myself. "Absolutely possible. Lady Mireya will be very sorry. Only I would like to remind you that if this were to be the case, you would have to marry her without any dowry. But, of course, if you love her so much, to take such a step..."

I spread my hands wide, indicating that in this case, all options really are on the table for the Marquis.

"Wait," he shakes his head. "What do you mean 'without any dowry?'"

"Let me remind you about the document you signed..." I begin, but I am interrupted sharply by Dorion.

Nervous tension is not conducive to following the rules of etiquette.

"I remember the document!" he snaps. "But according to this document, I waive the dowry only when marrying a second time! And thanks to your efforts I'm still not married!"

"I'm afraid you do not quite understand," I shake my head. "Re-read the document. It says that you will not receive the dowry if you marry within five years of today's ceremony, during which you and Lady Mireya did voluntarily say "I do" before the altar. Oaths were successfully and voluntarily exchanged, to which there are a lot of witnesses. Whether a real priest performed the ceremony or not, whether you have become as a result her legal husband, or did not – there is nothing about that in the agreement."

From the expression on the face of the Marquis, it is clear to me that he is going to argue. He even opens his mouth to say something, but in the end still says nothing. He remains silent for a long while, mentally assessing the extent of the disaster.

"So, what do you want of me now?" he asks hoarsely.

"Generally speaking, nothing," I shrug. "You only have two options. You can create a scandal; complain to the Duke, alert the whole palace. In this case, a storm will break which will not soon subside. It will not improve your situation, but the details of this story will become known to everyone. Your fake wedding will be the main topic of gossip everywhere, from high society salons to taverns, and your name will become a laughing stock. But there is a second option. You can just leave quietly. Then practically no one will learn what has happened. Unless, of course, your people talk, but that is your responsibility. For my people I can vouch. There are plenty of rich brides in the world whose dowries are accessible to such a nobleman as yourself."

Marquis Dorion leaves the palace the next morning. He does not wait for the Duke, but has a letter left for him. The latter, of course, fumed and raged, especially considering the long time it took him — with the help of Cameron Estley of course — to find out the true motives for the sudden departure. However, by the time he finally figured out the details, the dust had settled, and while it was not a friendly relationship, still a kind of uneasy truce was established between brother and sister. The Duke did not wish to destroy it for the sake of a groom long gone.

End of part two

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More chapters will be published soon. The whole book is available here - https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B01GGEWA88