- Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth and Being Free

London, England 1856

"Lady Hemmingway?" Rhea looked up from the window she was gazing through.

"Yes, Jamison?" she smiled gently.

"Your parents require your presence downstairs in the parlor." She nodded and he left. She sighed. She wondered what madness they'd want this time. It wasn't that she did not love her father and mother, it was merely the fact that they had been pestering her about any potential suitors she might have had in mind. As if they did not already know that she was a proclaimed wallflower among the ton.

She stood up from the window seat and fixed her disheveled appearance and went down to greet her parents.

"Ah, my dear daughter." Lord Hemmingway smiled pleasantly. Rhea smiled and took a seat beside them.

"Hello, papa." Rhea said softly.

"Now, Rhea." Lady Hemmingway grinned. "What is the matter?"

"T'is nothing, mama." Rhea whispered. "I only wonder what it is you plan to address with me."

Lord and Lady Hemmingway looked at their daughter hesitantly. Abraham looked at his daughter and sighed. He hated that she might have known the bad that was upon them.

But they thought nothing of her feelings, or of their own, his wife and he. They believed that this proposition would solve all their problems. But never once did they chance upon the thoughts of their daughter. They couldn't - for how could they bear the guilt?

Rhea was a sweet and tender child. Quick to please, Abraham would boast.

Would she be willing to please her father and mother in this matter?

"It's alright." Rhea assured quickly, feeling the tension being inhaled and exhaled in the room. She would not upset her parents. If there was any truth to what she had guessed months earlier, she knew that they would have already been through so much!

"Rhea." Abraham proclaimed. "We do not wish to seek your hatred."

"Oh, papa. I know." Rhea said sympathetically. "I have a sense of mind to know that you would never bring harm to me."

"Then you must understand . . . please," Lucinda, Abraham's wife, cried to her daughter.

"Mama, please. Do not stress. I shall bid your wishes, though; at least let us finish this supper pleasantly, yes?"

The Hemmingway's breathed a sigh of relief, blessing their dear daughter.

Abraham silently contemplated what had been going through his mind for the past fortnight. Obviously, Rhea had sensed his distress, lest she conclude his feelings.

They finished peacefully, as Rhea had desired. After dismissing the servants from the dinning room Abraham faced his daughter, along with his wife.

"It is not our desire to enforce upon you this responsibility, daughter. You must know that." Rhea slowly nodded, her eyes betraying her fear. "Our debt . . . has been raised more than ten percent it's last. Your mother and I fear that we will not be able to withhold our belongings."

"Is this the problem, papa?" Rhea desperately wondered.

"Yes, but we have a solution." Lucinda answered. "Tomorrow morning you shall accompany us to Lord Vale's mansion."

"We are visiting the Vale's? Papa, I don't understand."

"You are getting married, girl." Lord Hemmingway said gently. Rhea felt her world crashing in upon her.

Marriage?

"B-but I . . . I don't understand . . . how will it-"

"You will become the bride of the late Duke's son; Hadrian Vale."