A Marriage of Power
01My sister didn’t want to marry Ethan Lawrence, so she drugged me and sent Ethan to my room.
He married me because he had to, and he still decided it was all a setup of mine.On our wedding night he pointed at me and said, ice-cold, “Lena Sutton, don’t expect me to be good to you.”
Three years into the marriage I was left to rot in a back wing of the house. When I lay feverish and weak, he held a grand wedding and brought my sister through the door.I woke again at the very moment the drug began to burn.
Stumbling, I fell into Adrian Lawrence’s arms, the man my sister actually wanted.I clutched his lapel and begged through tears, “Adrian, help me.”When I came to, the room was pitch-dark. Heat crawled under my skin and my breath sawed in my throat.
The pain from the life I lost and the fire in my veins tangled together until thought slipped.There was noise outside the door. I managed a crooked smile.
By now Ethan was pledging vows to my sister.He loved her, and he finally had what he wanted.
What he didn’t know, the person she loved had never been him.
02Ethan and my sister grew up together. I used to think she loved him, so even when my heart fluttered for him, I buried it.Then she came to me.
“Lena, I don’t want to marry Ethan.”The families were already discussing the match. She cried until the floor was wet.
I stared, lost. How could she not want him when they were childhood sweethearts.“Lena, help me,” she said.
“I know you like Ethan.”My heart jumped. I shook my head on instinct.
She didn’t mind. “If you’re willing, I can make Ethan marry you.”I still refused.
Even if she didn’t want him, he didn’t want me.I never imagined she would slip something into my wine, then steer a drunken Ethan into my room.
By the time people burst in, our clothes were a mess and there was no way to explain.My father’s wife looked ready to wring my neck.
I had been the heir’s daughter. My sister had been born to the woman my father kept on the side. After my mother died, that woman became his wife, and I was quietly moved from heiress to second daughter.When Ethan sobered, the look he gave me was a blade. In his mind, I had planned everything.
I tried to tell him the truth.My sister pressed out a trembling, perfect line, “I don’t blame you,” and the guilt settled on me like shackles.
03Ethan married me out of guilt, the kind he owed my sister.
There was no tenderness on our wedding night, only release. He didn’t even stay until morning. At the door he didn’t turn around. “Lena Sutton, don’t expect me to be good to you.”The household took its cue from him. Even the family’s grand lady had no patience for me.
Not long after I moved into the Lawrences, I fell ill.My sister visited while I was at my weakest.
She was all soft grace and a small smile. “If you had agreed back then, you wouldn’t be here now,” she said. “You didn’t want Ethan. Give him back.”I smiled without warmth. “You turned to Ethan because Adrian Lawrence turned you down.”Her face changed.
For the longest time I couldn’t understand why she disliked Ethan, until I learned where her eyes really went at those meetings.Adrian Lawrence, the Dowager Lady’s younger son. Ethan’s uncle. The Royal Tutor.“You’re not afraid I’ll tell Ethan,” I asked.She laughed. “Do you think he would believe you.”She was right. He didn’t.
I tried to tell him what happened. He only looked at me with clean contempt. “Lena Sutton, don’t assume everyone is as vicious as you.”“You don’t even compare to Adele.”I went quiet from the inside out.
Adele Sutton was the bright moon in his sky. She didn’t need to speak. One small crease between her brows and he ached for her.Me, he only found repulsive.
Sometimes I wondered what his face would look like when he finally learned the truth.I wanted to see it.
I didn’t think I would last that long. The doctor said the light in me was almost gone.I closed my eyes. Another wave of heat rolled under my skin.
My breathing was ragged, not the way a candle dies out.I touched my damp forehead. Something was wrong.
I looked around. This wasn’t my bedroom at all.
04I dragged my unsteady body to the mirror.A girl stared back. Cheeks flushed, eyes glassy with tears, lips parted, chest rising in quick little bursts.The noise outside hadn’t faded. Something clicked. I dug my nails into my palm.It wasn’t a wedding. It was Ethan Lawrence’s grandmother’s birthday banquet.This was three years earlier.Memory came back clean and bright.
I had come to Lawrence Manor with my father’s wife and Adele for the celebration. At the party I drank wine that had been dosed.
Adele said I was drunk and walked me to a guest room.I knew what came next.
The door was shut. In a little while Ethan would appear.He would have had too much to drink and, in his haze, mistake me for Adele.
Then came three years of despair.I clenched my hands and forced myself to breathe. I couldn’t let it happen again.The drug was cresting. Heat licked through me and my breath came ragged.I stumbled out into the night. The cold wind hit my skin and the world steadied, if only a little.
I had to get out of here.My legs kept giving, and I nearly went down more than once.Suddenly I heard footsteps coming fast behind me.I knew what I looked like. I couldn’t be seen.I slipped into the shadow of a garden grotto. Through the leaves I saw Ethan scanning the path, his face set, as if he were hunting something.
He was supposed to be drunk in that room. Why was he here.Adele caught up, breathless. She seized his sleeve and looked around, unsure. “Did you see Lena.”“Maybe have the staff help us look.”“No,” Ethan cut in. “I’ll check the front.”My heart drummed against my ribs. She must have found the room empty and woken him to search.The heat roared back. A small sound escaped my throat before I could catch it.Ethan, already a distance away, turned sharply toward the grotto.
I shrank into the dark and edged back on shaking legs.
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