The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”If you refuse this match, I will cast you out of this house myself!” roared Wilfred Wolanski. As a respected merchant within the Dukedom of Varos, his reputation had a mole on it because of his eldest daughter, Eilika.

Eilika kept her gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the rug, her hands clasped tightly.

”It is her face, Wilfred,” Susan interjected as she set a heavy tray upon the table. The stepmother’s voice was laced with contempt. ”It is the sole reason she remains unpicked. Your trade routes are failing, and your coffers are emptying. At the very least, show some gratitude for your father’s position. How much longer must we carry your weight? We have a younger daughter to consider, one whose prospects shouldn’t be dimmed by your shadow.”

Eilika finally looked up. ”And is Father truly certain that a Duke will accept such a ’burden’?”

She touched the line of the scar marking her right cheek. It held the memory of the day she had shielded her father from a shattering carriage window. At the time, he had called her his little hero; now, in the shallow circles of Varos, that same mark was a curse that turned every potential suitor away in disgust.

”He is willing to take you. Your only concern is to fulfill your duties as a wife,” Wilfred pronounced, his attention fixed on the steaming tea his wife had just poured.

”Father, why can’t I marry the Duke? I would be a Duchess!” Rosaline, Eilika’s stepsister, interjected as she plucked a chocolate biscuit from the tray. ”They say he is the most handsome man in the entire kingdom, not just Varos.”

”Do not even entertain the thought of marrying a widower, darling,” Susan said, her brow furrowing with maternal concern. ”Why should you be burdened with the care of another woman’s son?”

Eilika watched them in silence, a dull ache blooming in her chest. She knew that any defense she offered would only be met with a barrage of sharp tongues.

”Your mother is right, Rosaline. You deserve a far better match than Duke Damian,” Wilfred added. ”He may be striking to look at, but he is cold. He neglects his own blood. A man who cannot spare a glance for his son will certainly never spare one for you.”

The words cut Eilika deeper than any insult. Her father was perfectly aware that her future husband would likely ignore her, yet he was eager to trade her away regardless. He wasn’t seeking her happiness; he was seeking her exit.

”I will marry the Duke of Varos,” Eilika announced, keeping a steady voice despite the tremor in her heart. ”Father, you may send the message of my acceptance.”

As she turned to leave, Wilfred’s voice stalled her at the threshold. ”Have your mother find a skilled makeup artist. You cannot stand at the altar with that mark on your face. See that it is hidden behind enough paint to make it disappear.”

Eilika offered a stiff nod before fleeing to her bedchamber. She leaned against the heavy wood of the door, her breath hitching as she caught her reflection. In the light, the scar looked even more terrible. It was the reminder of why the townspeople whispered and why the local gentry treated her as if she carried a plague.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but a sharp knock on the door forced them back. She lowered her hand-mirror and smoothed her skirts.

”Sister, don’t you wish to see Duke Damian before the vows are exchanged?” Rosaline asked from the doorway, her voice dripping with mock pity as she walked further in. ”What if he casts you out the moment he sees what is beneath the veil?”

”He would not have sent the proposal if he cared for such trivialities,” Eilika replied, lifting her chin to the empty room. She refused to let her sister see her resolve crumble.

Rosaline’s laughter was soft. ”Oh, Sister. You really are too naive. Men prize beauty above all else, sister. When a wife fails to please the eye, a husband’s gaze inevitably wanders,” Rosaline continued with a sharp smile.

”Have you not heard the rumors? They say Duke Damian keeps a secret mistress, that he steals away from her every single night. I truly hope that once you are wed, he can bear to look at you for at least a moment.”

Eilika spun on her heel. She met her stepsister’s mocking gaze.

”I appreciate your profound concern for my future, Rosaline,” Eilika replied. ”However, you needn’t trouble yourself with the Duke’s private affairs on my behalf. Whether he keeps a mistress or not is something I am perfectly capable of discovering, and handling, on my own.”

Rosaline’s smile widened with a false sympathy. ”Are you truly so sure? You have lived twenty two years without winning the favor of a single friend. Do you really believe you can capture the heart of a man like Damian? He is the most desired bachelor in Varos. It is a mystery why he chose you of all people.”

She paused, tapping her chin as if deep in thought. ”But then, there is the matter of his first wife’s son. Perhaps he isn’t seeking a Duchess to grace his arm, but merely a glorified nursemaid to watch over the boy. It makes sense, doesn’t it? That child will inherit every single penny and every acre of the Duke’s vast estates. You, however, will be left with nothing but a title and a cold bed. Is it not a pity? Truly, Eilika, I should think it better to cease existing entirely than to live a life where you are so utterly unwanted. The day you got this scar, you should have known, your future has ended. Think about that.”

With a sharp flick of her hair, Rosaline stepped out of the room.

Tears rolled over Eilika’s cheeks. ”Indeed, I’m an unwanted woman whom no one wants.”

~~~~~

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