My Bratty Wife
Chapter 159 - Hundred And Fifty Nine

Chapter 159: Chapter Hundred And Fifty Nine

Doris looked up, startled by Cassandra’s sudden entrance and her tear-streaked face. "My lady! What’s wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Cassandra shook her head, unable to speak. She sank onto the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Doris rushed to her side. "My lady, please! Tell me what happened."

Cassandra finally managed to choke out the words, her voice trembling. "I... I overheard my father and the countess... They were talking about me... about the wedding..."

Doris waited patiently, her hand resting gently on Cassandra’s shoulder.

"They... they don’t care about me," Cassandra sobbed. "Just like mother who left me, abandoned me." She continued in between sobs. "They only care about the land... about the money. They said... they said they were getting rid of me."

Doris’s eyes flashed with anger. "That’s... that’s terrible," she whispered.

Cassandra looked up at Doris, her eyes filled with pain. "They don’t care about what happens to me, Doris. They just want the land and money."

Doris held Cassandra’s hand tightly. "My lady, you mustn’t give up hope. We’ll figure this out. We’ll find a way."

Cassandra shook her head. "I don’t know what to do, Doris. I feel so... trapped."

Doris squeezed Cassandra’s hand. "You’re not trapped, my lady. You’re strong. And you’re not alone." She paused, thinking quickly. "We need to be careful. We need to think about what to do next."

Cassandra nodded slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "I... I don’t want to marry him, Doris. Not now. Not knowing..."

Doris nodded. "I understand, my lady. We won’t let them force you into anything you don’t want." She looked at Cassandra, her expression determined. "We’ll find a way out of this. I promise."

She helped Cassandra sit up, noticing the tears streaming down her face and the distress in her eyes. "Let me draw you a bath. A warm bath always helps."

Without waiting for a reply, Doris went to the washstand and began filling the tub with warm water. She added some scented salts, the aroma filling the room. "Come, my lady," she said gently, "it will make you feel better."

Cassandra, still shaken, allowed Doris to help her undress. She shed her clothes, her veil falling to the floor, and stepped into the tub. The warm water was a soothing balm to her troubled mind. As she sank into the tub, the weight of the day, the dirt from the garden, the sweat from her frantic run, and the heavy makeup that masked her natural appearance, all seemed to wash away.

For a brief moment, she felt a sense of peace, a respite from the turmoil within.

Doris began gently washing Cassandra’s hair, her touch light and comforting. "There, my lady," she said softly, "just relax. Let the water soothe you."

Cassandra closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. But the conversation she had overheard kept replaying in her thoughts. "If he marries her... all I care about is that land..." The words were like daggers to her heart. She knew now that her upcoming marriage was not about respect, or even protection. It was a transaction, a business deal. And she was the commodity being traded. The thought made her stomach churn.

As Doris finished washing her hair, a knock came at the door. "Come in," Doris called.

A young maid entered, carrying a dress draped over her arm. "This is for Lady Cassandra, for the ball tonight," the maid said, curtsying. It’s a beautiful emerald green gown and matching sleeve-length gloves.

Doris took the dress. "Thank you," she said. "You can leave it there." The maid curtsied again and left.

Doris laid the dress on the bed, her expression thoughtful. She knew that Cassandra was dreading the ball, knowing what she now knew. But she also knew that she had to go. She had to play her part.

She turned back to Cassandra, who was now wrapped in a soft robe. "It’s time to get ready, my lady," Doris said softly. "The ball will be starting soon."

Cassandra sighed, the weight of the evening pressing down on her once again. Doris helped her out of the washroom and dried her hair gently with a soft towel. She then helped her into the emerald green dress. It fit perfectly, accentuating Cassandra’s slender figure. Doris began lacing the corset, carefully tightening it.

"Owww!" Cassandra exclaimed, wincing.

"Oh, I’m so sorry, my lady," Doris apologized quickly, loosening the laces slightly. "Did I pull it too tight?"

Cassandra managed a small smile. "It’s alright, Doris. Just a little too enthusiastic."

Doris continued lacing the corset, careful not to hurt Cassandra. Once her waist was trimmed and slim, she helped Cassandra into the hoop skirt and overskirt, the layers of fabric swirling around her. Then, she fastened the matching gloves.

Doris then styled Cassandra’s hair into a low, elegant bun, adding a delicate feather for adornment. She applied a light layer of makeup, focusing on covering Cassandra’s freckles, as was the custom.

Finally, she placed the veil over Cassandra’s hair, completing her transformation.

Cassandra looked at herself in the mirror. The emerald green dress was stunning, and the makeup concealed her freckles, making her look every bit the part of a noblewoman. But beneath the surface, her heart was heavy. She knew what awaited her downstairs, at the ball. The announcement. Her engagement to a man she knows won’t protect her, for reasons she now despised.

She picked up her fan and, taking a deep breath, prepared to descend to the already bustling ballroom. She knew she had to stop the engagement. But how? What could she possibly do? The thought weighed heavily on her as she made her way down the grand staircase.

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The ballroom shimmered with candlelight, casting a warm glow on the elegantly dressed guests. Music, lively and vibrant, filled the air, swirling around the dancers as they glided across the polished floor.

Some ladies, their dance cards in hand, eagerly awaited the next partner, while others, content to observe, chatted amongst themselves or simply enjoyed the spectacle.

Those ladies, preferring observation to participation, leaned against the ornate columns, their fans fluttering gently as they watched the spectacle unfold. Cassandra envisioned herself among this latter group, a silent observer at her very first ball.

She descended the grand staircase cautiously, careful not to draw attention to herself. Her emerald green gown flowed around her as she moved, the fabric whispering against the polished marble steps. She held her fan close to her face, partially obscuring her features, her eyes taking in the scene before her. The music was infectious, the dancers graceful, but Cassandra’s mind was far away.

She was consumed by the thought of the impending engagement announcement. How could she stop it? Ideas flitted through her mind, each one quickly dismissed as impractical or dangerous.

She imagined confronting her father, pleading with him to reconsider. But the image of his cold, indifferent face stopped her. She knew Countess Helene would be furious, perhaps even violent. But it was her father’s reaction she feared most. He had been distant, almost hostile, for as long as Cassandra could remember. The warmth of a father’s love was a distant memory. He wouldn’t hesitate to... what? She didn’t even want to think about it. He wouldn’t hesitate to prioritize his own interests over her happiness.

Cassandra’s eyes welled up with tears of helplessness. She blinked them back quickly, determined not to let her carefully applied makeup be ruined. Tears wouldn’t solve anything. She needed a plan, a way out. But she felt trapped, caught in a web of obligations and expectations.

Suddenly, a sharp tinkling sound cut through the music and chatter. Duke Charles, standing near a small table, had tapped his glass with a fork, effectively silencing the room. The dancers paused, conversations ceased, and all eyes turned towards the Duke. Cassandra’s heart pounded in her chest. This was it.

Duke Charles cleared his throat, his voice resonating through the suddenly quiet ballroom. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, a smile playing on his lips, "I have an important announcement to make this evening. It gives me great pleasure to inform you all of my engagement to... Cassandra... (he paused, glancing towards Count Edmund) ...Lady Cassandra Beaumont, daughter of Count Edmund Beaumont."

The words echoed in the silence that followed. Cassandra felt as though her soul had left her body. Her worst fears had been realized. The engagement was official. A wave of despair washed over her. She barely registered the polite applause that rippled through the room, the congratulatory smiles directed towards her father. She felt numb, detached, as if she were watching this scene unfold from a distance, a spectator in her own life. She glanced at her father. He was beaming, his face flushed with triumph. He didn’t even look at her.

The music began again, this time a more celebratory tune. Couples resumed their dancing, the earlier interruption quickly forgotten. But for Cassandra, the music sounded hollow, the laughter seemed mocking. She stood frozen, her fan clutched tightly in her hand, the emerald green dress suddenly feeling like a prison. The words echoed in her ears, confirming her reality. It was official. Her fate was sealed.