Confessions From an Arranged Marriage by Miranda Neville

surprise.”
    Whatever it was, Minerva decided she’d rather know. “I don’t much care for surprises.”
    â€œAccording to Lord Hugo, Bennett saw Blake buying some very expensive trinkets. Two ruby bracelets and an emerald necklace.”
    â€œHmm, rubies,” said Diana. “I’m not sure they will suit Min. But you’ll look marvelous in emeralds. I’m so glad to hear Blake is doing the right thing by you. You must pretend to be astonished when he gives them to you.”
    Minerva felt a glow of pleasure. She might be indifferent to the size of gems, but not to gifts from her future husband. Thank goodness she’d found the perfect gift for him. It wasn’t expensive but she knew he’d love it. She had it specially bound by Sebastian’s bookbinder.
    â€œYou were right to tell us, Celia,” Diana said. “I was already confident, but now I have no doubt everything will be fine once Min and Blake are married.”
    â€œYou are not going to be married!” Sebastian appeared at the doorway looking furious. He strode into the room, Tarquin Compton at his heels. Ignoring his wife’s greeting and shaking off her restraining hand on his arm, he stood over Minerva’s chair. “I won’t let you marry that man.”
    â€œGoodness,” Celia said, “whatever happened must be serious to drag you two away from a book sale.”
    Tarquin dropped a kiss on her knuckles. “I thought I’d better come in case Sebastian decided to make a detour and kill Blakeney on the way here.”
    â€œSebastian!” Minerva said. “I wish you’d stop glowering and tell us what’s the matter. What has Blake done now?”
    â€œThat idiot Winchester, who gossips more than an old woman, saw him in a box at Covent Garden last night with Desirée de Bonamour.”
    â€œOh.” The pleasant glow turned to ice in her veins.
    â€œAnd that’s not all. The lady was wearing the ruby necklace he gave her last month.”
    Diana interrupted. “That was before . . .”
    â€œ And a pair of ruby bracelets he bought last week. Bad enough he keeps a mistress when he’s to be wed in three days. But to flaunt her publicly like that! It’s an insult to you, Minerva. I’d like to call him out and I may do so when I go and tell him your wedding is off. At the very least I’ll knock him down. I owe him a black eye.”
    An enormous calm settled over Minerva. While Sebastian roared, Diana and Celia clucked, and Tarquin looked elegantly grim, she let them fade from her consciousness as she set her mind to the question of her future.
    She had to decide now if she was to be wed the day after tomorrow. She considered her options and they hadn’t changed. Nothing was any different than it had been that horrible morning when she realized she was forced to wed a man she despised. Except that it was, because back then she’d had no expectations. Her view of Blake and their marriage had shifted. Without really acknowledging it, she’d thought she could have everything she wanted, and more. She’d believed in the possibility of the kind of respect and affection her parents shared, and Sebastian and Diana, and their friends. How foolish! Lord Blakeney was neither capable of affection nor deserving of respect.
    If she broke the engagement she’d still be ruined. She’d still be doomed to a life in the country and no chance of living her ambition to affect the future of the nation and the course of history.
    â€œI’ll marry Blakeney,” she said, blinking back an angry tear. “It isn’t as though any of us ever believed him to be a saint. I don’t see that I have a choice. I’m sure he’d be delighted if I cried off but I won’t do it. Why should I be disgraced and he get off scot-free?”

Chapter 9
    T he marriage, by special license, took place in the drawing room at