The Beauty Of Rose

K I N

A/N: Hey! I hope you're enjoying the story so far! I will try and make the chapters longer since the updates are spaced apart by a week. If you have any advice or things you like/dislike, feel free to leave a comment. And only if you really liked the chapter, drop a vote. Have a great day.

III

"MRS AXEL?" HE asked. I felt the flame of bitterness and pain flare. It was obvious I had been crying, even with my veil donned. But, I still sat up as gracefully as I could manage and adjusted my veil. Then I placed my gaze on him.

"Mr. Whitfield?" I returned spitefully. Matthew gave me a strange once-over. I could detect pity in his eyes, and that made me nearly want to scream. Or cry. "Is there is a reason you decided to grace me with your presence?" I added. His eyes gave a dangerous glimmer.

"I would like to speak with you downstairs in my workspace," he replied. Before I could say anything more, Matthew left briskly. Gathering myself, I followed him down the corridors and stairs, leading to his private areas in which he conducted business. Once we were truly alone, Matthew offered me a chair. I didn't sit. "Very well then," he said. Searching my face for a moment before continuing he spoke, "I have written to your family." I felt every fiber of my being tense.

"Regarding what?" I asked.

"The dissolve of our marriage," he answered. Whatever I felt eating away at me, I didn't let it show. From the moment he left our bed chambers on our wedding night, I knew our marriage would be nothing more than ink on a document. And I knew that someday, when respectable enough, he would find a way to wash his hands of me. So it shouldn't hurt. Instead, I laughed. "Is it really so funny?" he remarked.

"Only terribly amusing, Mr. Whitfield. If you think my relatives will agree to dissolve our marriage, to a divorce, you have a wonderful sense of humor," I stated.

"I see nothing amusing in wanting the woman I love to be more than a mistress at my side. For my future child to not be titled a bastard for the rest of their days," Matthew snapped. There was some cold bite in his voice. I straightened my back.

"My father, with his dying breath, wished for me to be wed. He had it put in his will, his final testament, that I was to be married to you. And for whatever rationale or basis, you agreed to the terms. To dissolve this marriage would dishonor my father's wishes, and therefore, insult my family," I mentioned. Matthew clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I must infer you know very little about your relatives," he presumed, rising.

"I know my relatives fairly well, thank you," I asserted. He shook his head.

"No, you don't. Your kin wrote back telling me that they would only be at peace with the decision if they could meet Victoria. They are arriving late tomorrow evening," Matthew reputed. A condescending leer fell poised on his lips. It didn't make any sense. I had two aunts and three uncles I could directly call kin. That was all. They were all each as fantastically cruel, quick-tempered, and haughty as my father. Though the Axel name was nowhere near as formidable and wealthy as Whitfield, they weren't the type to stoop to anyone's power.

Perhaps their plan was to leave me without refuge or source of income, forced to reside with them in their homes. Transform me back into the fearing crying girl of my childhood, and abuse me into a shell resembling nothing human. They had once crushed my spirit before, driving me almost to the edge of insanity. I'm sure it would appease their sadistic pleasures to do it once more.

"It's in the letter if you don't believe my words," he added, producing a folded sheet of paper from his desk. Then Matthew took a few steps toward me. The same thing he had managed to do in the garden, in such near proximity that I wilted internally. "They spoke of your mother. A destitute boorish woman. They apologize for your bad manners on account of her," he reported. My whole body quaked with rage. He could say whatever he wanted about me, but not my mother. The woman who had selflessly and lovingly raised me, only to be killed when I was not even nine years.