"What of our families? What will they think?"
"Let us not live for them, let us live for us and our eternal love."
A century-long feud and a forbidden romance.
In which a Sutherland falls
for a Bridgerton, and despite
the cutthroat rivalry between...
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"MARGARET SUTHERLAND, WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME YOU REFUSED THE MARQUESS' PROPOSAL?" Her mother's voice, sharp as a knife and fuelled by anger, cut through the Sutherland entry hall, causing the twenty-year-old to halt in her steps halfway up the stairwell. Maisie froze and her skin became a prison of ice, a suffocating chamber preventing sufficient air from reaching her lungs. "Or did you intend for me to learn from Lady Whistledown herself?"
Maisie winced at her mother's tone. Her words were a cutting blade, armed to maim. She did not want to turn around, as there was one thing worse than her mother's sharp tone: the stone-cold fury within her eyes. Maisie could feel the consequence of her mother's gaze already, for she was already subjected to the weather of a brutal winter storm. A frigid chill crept along her spine, raising goosebumps in its wake and intensifying the situation at hand. Her mother's glare was so brutally cold, it burnt. Maisie felt uneasy in her skin.
Three days have passed since she agreed to run off with Colin. The day before, the Marquess called upon Maisie in search of a response to his proposal. Of course, he was not expecting Maisie's quick refusal and seemed quite taken aback that she would refuse him, the ever so affluent and handsome gentleman. The visit, albeit a short half-hour, was far too long. The Marquess spent a rather long time speaking ill of his mother and even more time detailing his plentiful properties. Although Maisie spent no time refusing him, Lansdowne spent an awful lot of time and wasted breaths on explaining everything so wonderful about him. She was certain it was a mechanism to mend his wounded ego.
"Well, Margaret?" Lady Sutherland sneered, stepping closer to the bottom step. "I just find it shameful and offensive that I must look to an anonymous gossip columnist for news regarding my own family. Is that not outrageous?"
Swallowing the lump lodged in her throat, Maisie turned around and looked down at her mother. She did not want her mother to see the fear pooling behind her brown irises and tugging at her lips, so she forced an unsteady facade of strength and insouciance to overrule her features. However, a guise was a guise, and it was a poor one at that. Maisie could feel the facade beginning to crumble the second she was met with her mother's stern gaze. She was never one that enjoyed being reprimanded. The thought of disappointing her mother — something she will have to come to terms with in the coming days — was terrifying. All her life, she strived to please the ageing woman, the woman who would settle for nothing but the best. Now, in two days, she was due to run away to the Scottish border with Colin and elope.
That would be the ultimate blow to her mother's heart.
Maisie attempted to maintain her composure as it continued to crack under her mother's presence. "I only met with him yesterday afternoon—"
Her mother laughed dryly. "Today is not yesterday."
"Yes, but—"
"That is enough!" Lady Sutherland spat, causing Maisie to fall silent.
