“I will never marry David Tredwell!”
Ariel Weatherly looked in the mirror and rehearsed her speech to her mother. “I am twenty-four years old and I will choose my own husband.” No, she thought. That’s not right. “I have chosen the man I want to marry and I will do so.” Yes, better. Much better.
There was a soft knock on the door.
On impulse, Ariel messed up her hair. She liked what she saw.
“Come in,” Ariel said, and a maid opened the door.
“Your mother would like to see you downstairs.”
“Yes, of course,” Ariel replied with a sigh.
The maid looked behind her to make sure Mrs. Weatherly wasn’t nearby. “I like your hair,” she said, then closed the door.
Ariel grabbed her brush and smoothed her hair, then she smiled. She wasn’t sure yet, but she may have come up with a way to get out of marrying David, to marry the man she truly loved, and to keep from being disinherited. Still smiling, she left her room and started down the stairs. If only Sara would agree. She must! Ariel thought. If she doesn’t…
But Ariel couldn’t think of that now. She only knew that she’d use whatever means she had at her disposal to get her cousin to agree to her plan.
Copyright © 2006 by Deveraux, Inc.