Chapter 367
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
The thought of being forced to marry that fraud all over again filled me with instant revulsion and fear.
What meaning could there be in holding another wedding between two people whose marriage had already collapsed? Between him and me, it meant nothing. But to those watching, it would mean everything.
He had abducted me simply to show the world that the Marquis and Marchioness were still intact. This needless ceremony was proof that we were still ‘happily married’.
“It would be nice if the Marchioness could smile.”
A hired servant of the Mansfield household appeared with a camera, snapping several photographs without permission. After scratching his head, he had the audacity to make that request. I ignored him completely and fixed the lens with the most terrifying glare I could manage.
“It will be troublesome if you behave like that in front of the reporters. Would you be able to read the statement, Madam?”
They were even planning a press conference after the ceremony. I didn’t need to see the so-called ‘statement’ to know its contents: that I had been kidnapped by Lady Ackroyd, and that every exposé published under my name was a fabrication.
“If that’s too difficult, it wouldn’t be terrible if you simply sat quietly while someone else reads it on your behalf.”
My grandmother bowed obsequiously to the Mansfield staff.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure she behaves herself until the ceremony.”
How, exactly? They might be able to d**g me unconscious, but they couldn’t make me obedient enough to read a false statement. Even if someone else read it, who would believe it was mine if I lay slumped in a chair like a corpse, knocked out by d***s?
So that was it. The reason the Marquis had tried to persuade me with lies that would never work, everything was for the press conference. If he wanted me to read a statement contradicting the truth while fully conscious, the only way was to make me believe it myself.
Or to threaten me at gunpoint. Which wouldn’t work, either.
‘Fine. I’ll play along for now.’
I would pretend to be obedient until the moment arrived. Then, in front of the wedding guests and the reporters, I would declare that I refused to accept Rupert Mansfield as my husband, that this marriage was void, and that I had been abducted and threatened all the way to the altar.
As I waited anxiously for that moment, my grandmother paced the room, muttering to herself.
“Why isn’t he here yet?”
I learned who she was waiting for when the door to the bridal waiting room finally opened.
“Phineas! You’re finally here.”
The doctor entered wearing a formal tailcoat, every inch the father of the bride. He hadn’t shown his face even once since I was abducted. But he had time to escort me to the altar. It was laughable.
“Dana…”
Ignoring his mother’s beaming welcome, he went straight to me.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you awake.”
Had he truly never come to see me? Or had I simply been too drugged to remember? Either way, I held no expectation that he would take my side. I didn’t beg him to save me or let me go.
If he had something to say, he said it by kneeling in front of me, setting his silk top hat aside. His eyes scanned my face carefully, worry etched deep into his expression.
“You’ve lost so much weight.”
“That’s because I’ve been—”
Because they fed me d***s instead of meals, I almost snapped, but.
“Phineas, did you bring what I asked for?”
My grandmother cut me off. When he tilted his head in confusion, she impatiently shook his shoulder.
“The medicine. The one that’ll make her obedient.”
Medicine?
Was there really such a thing? Was that why she had been so confident earlier, because they planned to d**g me into compliance?
In that instant, it felt as though all the blood drained from my body. If they drugged me, I wouldn’t be able to ruin the wedding or the press conference. I would obediently recite vows and retract my exposé exactly as they wished.
‘I have to run. Now.’
I frantically searched for a way out, but it became meaningless when Phineas answered.
“I didn’t bring it.”
“Why not?!”
“Mother, how could I ever use something like that on my own child?”
“Well, yes, of course, but still…”
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