Not Just A Pretense

Chapter 1 - Forced into Courtship

Arielle's POV

Some time in May

Have you ever wanted to splash boiling hot tea on someone's face? Well, I have. In fact, I want to right now. Well, maybe not something as dramatic as pouring hot tea on my aunt's head, but something. She had the nerve to interrupt my tea time to discuss marriage! I'm only twenty-two years old! How can she expect me to think about marriage? I don't even have any suitors at the moment; I don't even like men...

I should probably introduce myself. My name is Arielle Laurent, Duchess of Bennet. My Aunt Paige, the woman sitting across from me (also known as the Countess of Crumpel), is currently making me very uncomfortable. This isn't anything new; she has raised me since I was ten.

"Oh, come now," Aunt Paige continues. "You are twenty-two years old. I was married a year younger than you are now. Your mother, my brother's wife, was married at twenty. It isn't as dramatic as you're trying to make it."

"Auntie," I sigh, tucking a strand of my blonde hair behind my ear, "I have no interest in getting married. Men are so...primeval."

"Not all men are like that, dear." My aunt sets her teacup on her saucer. "Stop making excuses. You are going to allow suitors to begin courting you next week. I don't want to hear any excuses."

I nod, clenching my fists in my lap. I knew this day would come, but I didn't think it'd come so soon. As a duchess, I should be able to decide these things on my own, but I respect my aunt too much not to listen.

Aunt Paige sighs. "I'm only thinking about you, dear. I know what it was like four years ago when you were courted for the first time, but things have changed. Just, try. Who knows? You may find that the boys you once knew have matured."

"I doubt that, auntie. Men are fawning, motley-minded louts. They only care for sport and violence, and I want no part of that. You know as well as I do that suitors care not for me, only for the conquest." I sigh in frustration. "When I find a man that will sit through an entire opera in awe and wonder or will read me poetry because he likes it and isn't attempting to capture my heart with it, then I will consider him. But not until that time." I stand up, slightly saddened my tea time was ruined. "Please excuse me." I curtsied as I left the room.

My aunt has good intentions. The problem is that I'm a duchess. This rank is practically one step away from princess, so men are often after me for my title and wealth. They think they can win me over and I can help them climb the ranks of society. It's pathetic. Almost as pathetic as the girls in court who practically throw themselves at the prince. I rarely go to court, but when I do, I'm bound to see some half-witted crown-chaser drooling all over Prince Edward. I've never met the man myself, so for all I know, he could enjoy being thronged by women. It's none of my business, but it is disgusting.

Why do men like women like that? Women that lose their dignity the moment someone with a title walks by. I'd much rather hide in a library with a book than spend my days bending over backwards to be noticed by some boorish, brainless buffoon.

I sigh in frustration as I enter my room and throw myself onto my bed. This day couldn't get any worse. Without anything else to do, I raise myself into a seated position and reach for a book of poetry I left on my nightstand the night before. Poetry has always calmed me down. My parents gave me this book which includes poems by Tennyson, Dickenson, and Whitman; after the accident, I wouldn't let go of this book, and now it's all I have left of them...

A Few Days Later

Sitting at the breakfast table, I am unable to put down a collection of poems by American poet, Maya Angelou as I eat my toast with strawberry jam. My uncle is sitting adjacent to me, reading the newspaper. I have yet to see my aunt this morning, but I'm certain she would only try and persuade me to accept a suitor again.

"Arielle," Uncle Leland starts without looking up from his paper.

"Yes, uncle?"

"Your Aunt Paige has been irritable lately. Do you have any idea why?"

"No, uncle," I replied. A moment later, the very subject of our discussion, my Aunt Paige, burst into the dining room.

"It's wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!" She planted a light kiss on my uncle's cheek before turning to me with the largest smile I have ever seen her wear. It's kind of freaking me out.

"What is it, Aunt Paige?" I reply, setting my book down for the first time this morning.

"Oh, it's so wonderful! He wants to meet you!" She clapped her hands over her heart as she seated herself across from me. That's when I noticed the letter in her hands.

"Aunt Paige, please don't take this the wrong way, but what did you do?" Fear and apprehension grip my heart. There is no way of knowing who she contacted about meeting me unless I ask, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer.

She grinned as she passed the letter to my uncle for him to read and began explaining herself to me. "I simply wrote a letter to my cousin asking about a few young men at court, and to my surprise, more than a few of them would have been wonderful matches. I asked if any would be interested in a formal introduction, and it was a match too perfect to pass up! The gods themselves couldn't have done better!" A cup of tea is placed in front of her, and she gladly sips it. My uncle finishes scanning the letter and a small, impressed smile crosses his lips.

"Who would have agreed to this?" My hands are white from clenching the napkin in my lap so hard. I've lost my appetite, and I'm frightened to hear the answer.

With a smile plastered on her face, my aunt says the one name I would never have expected. "Why, Prince Edward, of course."

Thank you for reading!