the art of loving ; lord tewksbury

eighteen (special!)

"Emotions? They are volatile. They change. It's normal for you to feel one thing at first and for it to evolve into something else."

Chapter Eighteen

TEWKSBURY

  If there was one thing Tewksbury was absolutely certain of, it would be the dilemma he was facing in the situation he was currently stuck in. The rest of his feelings were a jumbled up mess, his attempts of sorting them out ending up futile. Each time he tried to do so would only result in leaving him in a blank state from all the rampant thoughts running wild in his mind. The chances of him figuring out how he truly felt were low. It wasn't long before he deemed it to be useless. Eventually, he gave up.

  In all honesty, Tewksbury never expected to end up where he was today. To him, he was a hundred percent sure he would be rid of Daisy Winters after he helped in her escape. The most they would get out of their alleged engagement would be an acquaintance, which he doubted would be long-lasting after she was gone. They only needed one another for a brief time, and when their perfectly-crafted plan was accomplished, they could move on with their respective lives and forget ever meeting each other. He was positive it would play out like that. Confident.

  The one thing he never banked on, however, was the possibility of becoming infatuated with a girl he barely knew.

  But then again, it wasn't as if it hadn't happened to him before. When he first crossed paths with Enola, falling for her came as a surprise to him as well. Although they might not have ended up together, but it didn't stop his feeling for her to continue even after months of not seeing one another. He knew she was strong-willed, he knew she was independent and probably did not need someone like him by her side. Still, he couldn't help the longing he felt for her, which didn't do him much justice. It only caused him to wait for her return with a string of hope that when she finally did, then maybe they would be able to have something together.

  When his mother had broke the news to him that he was going to marry, Tewksbury was shocked. Sure, his mother would try setting him up with girls from wealthy backgrounds in the past. He never paid them any attention, though. They were always either blinded by vanity and too full of themselves, or they were only interested in him because of his family's social rank. Meetings like those would usually last a day at most, and after that, he wouldn't see them again.

  But an arranged marriage? That was different. He didn't like it because tying the knot was an important part in life and he didn't want it being shoved in his face when he wasn't ready. Moreover if it was someone he had no romantic feelings for. He tried objecting, tried spewing all sorts of excuses to his mother in hopes of stopping it from happening. She remained adamant, her reason being marriage would get him to behave and keep him grounded especially after the whole runaway stunt he pulled months ago. As far as Tewksbury was concerned, he had no say in it anymore. There was no point in arguing. He could only follow his mother's orders.

  On the day he was due to meet the village girl for the very first time, the young Marquess was nothing but jittery. He wouldn't stop fidgeting with his sleeves—something he usually did when he was anxious—and he could hardly stop himself from zoning out whenever his mother spoke. The words coming out of her mouth entered into one ear and exited the other almost immediately. The only coherent  sentence he caught onto was the fact they had only three weeks to develop mutual romantic feelings before the wedding would commence. It was too bizarre a sentence to miss.