𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

horrible news.

Charlotte sat stiffly in the grand yet suffocating drawing room, the heavy folds of her dress doing little to ease the heaviness gripping her heart. The morning sun poured through the tall windows, yet all she saw was a haze, as though the light itself couldn't pierce the cloud of dread hanging over her.

Her trembling fingers clutched the crumpled copy of Lady Whistledown's Society Papers-its cruel headline seared itself into her mind: "Master William's Secret: A Mistress with Child." The words blurred and sharpened all at once. The scandal wasn't just a whisper anymore-it was loud and public and threatening to swallow her whole.

She set the paper on the low table, the edges stained from her tears. Her breaths came in uneven gasps, as though the air itself had thickened inside the room.

A soft knock broke through the silence, and Lillian, her ever-faithful confidante and steady presence, entered quietly, carrying a letter with delicate care. Her eyes held a flicker of sympathy, but she said nothing, knowing some moments weren't eased by words.

Charlotte accepted the letter, breaking the seal with shaky fingers. The familiar handwriting of Lady Hemming swept across the page:

"Dearest Charlotte,
I write with urgency. I shall be arriving at Grosvenor Square tomorrow. The wedding must take place within two days of my arrival. The scandal, if left to fester, threatens the family's standing, and we must act swiftly to secure the match before the whispers grow too loud.
I trust you understand the gravity of the situation.
With affection,
Lady Hemming."

The edges of the paper seemed to burn her skin as the weight of the words sank deep. Two days. Two days to bind herself in a marriage that felt more like chains than a promise. Two days to silence the voice inside that cried out for something more-something true.

Tears spilled over, and she sank back into the velvet chair, burying her face in her hands. The room felt colder, emptier.

At that moment, the door opened gently, and Simon stepped inside. His eyes softened as he took in the sight before him-the fragile shell of the woman he cared for so deeply.

"Charlotte," he said softly, crossing the room to sit beside her. His presence was like a balm, steady and reassuring amid the chaos.

She didn't meet his gaze immediately. Instead, she whispered, "It's all happening so fast, Simon. The wedding, the rumors... William's secret. I don't know how to breathe, let alone make a decision."

Simon reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I can't pretend to understand all that you're feeling, but I know you're torn. Between what you want, what you should do, and what's expected of you."

She looked up, eyes shimmering. "Every part of me rebels, but every other part feels trapped by duty. I'm supposed to be sensible. To think of the family, the reputation. But it feels like my heart is breaking."

Simon's voice was gentle but firm. "Charlotte, you're more than the expectations laid upon you. You deserve happiness-true happiness, not just security."

She laughed bitterly. "And yet, happiness feels like a cruel luxury."

Simon shook his head. "It's not a luxury. It's your right."

For a long moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by the crackling fire and distant sounds of the household stirring. Charlotte's fingers found his, gripping tightly as if holding onto hope itself.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake?" she asked, voice raw.

Simon's answer was immediate. "I think William's kind and honorable, but he can never be Anthony. Not in your heart. If you marry William out of obligation or fear, you might lose the chance at the love you truly deserve."