"What of our families? What will they think?"
"Let us not live for them, let us live for us and our eternal love."
A century-long feud and a forbidden romance.
In which a Sutherland falls
for a Bridgerton, and despite
the cutthroat rivalry between...
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IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING HER CONVERSATION WITH MAXWELL, in which he discovered her secret love affair with Colin Bridgerton, Maisie felt as if she were walking on thin ice. So far Maxwell had kept his word and held his tongue on the matter. But each time he looked upon her, a disappointed and almost pitiful expression would plague his features. Maxwell was never the malicious type, though his mere knowledge of her secret was unnerving nonetheless. She was afraid that any misstep would trigger the teen in running his mouth. Yet Maisie couldn't help but feel grateful that it was Maxwell who stumbled upon her dire secret. At least with him, she was granted a sliver of hope.
As her mind was rather occupied by the rather troubling situation at hand, she had forgotten the Marquess of Lansdowne. That is until two days after the incident with Maxwell, her eldest brother approached her in the Sutherland drawing-room. That afternoon, Montague wore a tight smile and deep creases ran along his forehead. He looked as if he aged ten years overnight.
"Margaret," he began and sat next to her. Eyeing Maude for a brief moment on the chair across from them, Montague released a curt sigh. "I thought you ought to know that Lansdowne had just left my study."
His words caused her to stiffen. Lowering her book to her lap and clenching the delicate pages tight in her grasp, she inquired, "How does that concern me?"
Maude had cocked her head a little bit, no doubt intrigued by the revelation, as she practiced her needlework. Her elder sister did not raise her gaze from her piece, but she was no doubt listening with great intent.
"He has asked for your hand."
Maisie choked.
Maude snorted.
The atmosphere in the Sutherland drawing-room became suffocating. The sage green walls darkened, swallowing all light. The grim portrait of the Sutherland siblings grew more sombre, something Maisie never knew could be possible. Any sunlight seeping through the window panes became dampened and consumed by the tense environment. The enclosed space was bleak and empty — a glimpse of her future if she were to accept the Marquess' proposal.
She could not marry him.
Coughing a few times to clear her throat, Maisie glared at her snickering sister. She then turned her attention back towards Montague. Numb in the chest, she uttered, "he has?"
Montague nodded. "I have accepted his wishes, father as well, but I thought you should have the final decision to accept or not."
"I wish to—"
"However," he continued grimly. Dragging his fingers against his forehead and through his cropped brown locks, he urged, "I encourage that you accept."
"What if I do not wish to marry him?"
Then as if the atmosphere shattered beneath her words, both Montague and Maude stilled upon hearing the proclamation. Since her forbidden friendship — or love — began with Colin, she had been using the Marquess as a ruse for her emotions. Her sibling's shock was not surprising.
