For Better or For Worse

Chapter 5

* * *

“How was it?” Emily asked the moment Dillon entered the room. There was a twinkle in her eyes. “Did he say why he was here?”

Dillon slumped on the bed where she sat. “I knew this would happen,” she muttered as if something was lodged in her throat.

Emily’s ears pricked up. Earlier that day, and for the first time in a long while, Emily had experienced a slight dizzy spell, so Dillon had gone hunting for some rabbits to help Emily regain her strength. But she had come rushing back home like a bat out of hell.

Out of breath, the first thing out of her mouth was, “W-we have a guest.

“A guest? What kind of guest?”

“An unwelcome one. Stay in your room, Emily.”

Dillon had pushed the clueless Emily into her room and made her promise that she wouldn’t come out. After having said that, Dillon had rushed to wash, discard her work clothes—rags, as she called them—and change into a clean dress. On top of that, she had even pinned up her hair and donned her topaz hair ornament, an accessory she only wore for esteemed guests.

Hmm. Emily was suspicious. Dillon seemed to be making a big fuss for such an “unwelcome” guest. Curious about who the guest could possibly be, Emily had spent a long time looking out the window. And lo and behold, a man she never expected to see had appeared in a carriage: It was none other than Cedric Rodden Hayworth, the Marquess of Northerland and heir to the House of Southerwick.

Oh my gosh, Emily had thought. Oh my goodness gracious. She had been struck speechless as if meeting a celebrity for the first time. And like the good sister she was, she had waited with bated breath for news from Dillon.

“So, what did he say?” Emily urged, now that her sister had returned. Dillon looked at her glumly. Huh? What was going on?

Dillon blinked nervously and slowly said, “He’s here to make a marriage proposal.”

“Oh my gosh!”

Emily let out a whoop. She hugged Dillon, who went completely limp in her arms.

“Oh my gosh, that means you’re gonna become a marchioness... no, a future duchess! I’m so excited!”

“I dunno,” Dillon said. “I don’t think it’s my hand in marriage he’s after.”

Dillon’s heavy voice stopped Emily in her tracks. She furrowed her brow.

“Then whose?”

“Yours,” Dillon supplied matter-of-factly, poking Emily in the forehead. Emily slowly pushed Dillon’s finger away.

“Mine? But you’re the right age for him!”

The marquess was twenty-eight years old while Dillon was twenty-three. Emily was just seventeen, so it only made sense for the marquess to marry Dillon instead. But Dillon snorted at Emily’s logic.

“No, I’m sure. Just trust me. He’s here for you, Emily.”

“But—”

“And personally, just so you know,” Dillon continued, “I’m completely against it. First of all, he’s far too old for you. And second, he’s had far too many unspeakable relationships with other women. As your older sister, I can’t approve of you marrying that person.”

“Dillon!” Emily was shocked at how her sister described their guest when he was still right downstairs. Dillon shrugged indifferently.

“Emily, you’ve seen the papers too.”

Emily had indeed read about the scandals around Cedric Hayworth. Not a day went by when he didn’t feature in some gossip column or other. He was always caught up in rumors involving some actress, dancer, opera singer, or really any woman, married or divorced, regardless of their occupation or status. He had a colorful dating life, to put it mildly.

“Even now, he has a girlfriend. Remember the article from two days ago?” Dillon rested her chin in her hand, a weary expression on her face.

Cedric’s most recent fling was with Katarina Rowsom, a divorced woman who was also a regular in the gossip columns. Of course, there were also rumors that Cedric wasn’t her only lover either. Emily knew all this partly because she was interested in Cedric as a celebrity, but mainly because of Dillon.

Strangely enough, Dillon skipped over most gossip columns, but she always pointed out the ones about the Marquess of Northerland, shaking her head and saying things like, “Those looks aren’t worth it. They’ll regret it,” and so on.

“I dunno,” said Emily. “People change once they’re married.”

It was sad that the Marquess had been so harshly criticized by Dillon before they even met. Secretly, Emily was rooting for Cedric. Dillon shook her head.

“Emily. There’s something you have to keep in mind.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t change people.”

“Who says?”

“Mom.”

But our mom died when you were six years old, Emily thought. Dylan would sometimes pass on words of wisdom to Emily, saying their mother had said them. Emily never believed her. What kind of mother would tell her young child that? But it didn’t seem to matter to Dillon whether Emily believed her or not.

“There are some things in the world that will never change,” she continued firmly. “I don't want you to be the wife of someone who seems to make it his goal to always be on the front page of the papers for all the world to see.”

Dillon had also told Emily that the paper was filled with lies—according to their mother, of course. But she certainly behaved as if she believed every last rumor when it came to Cedric. Why?

Emily began to have doubts… Doubts that Dillon would not have been happy about. A strong denial is often the sign of a sure truth, and Emily wondered what a strong hatred could indicate, in this case.

“But it would be good for our family if he married one of us. Father says we’re indebted to their family’s kindness.”

Emily kept feigning ignorance and tried to give other reasons. If Cedric really was proposing marriage, it would be hard to turn him down. It may have been common for a woman to refuse a man’s marriage proposal, but this was Cedric Hayworth they were talking about, and rejecting his proposal would have been tantamount to spitting in his face.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m trying to think of a way to make sure our dear marquess never proposes to you.”

Dillon sighed heavily. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I’m going to try to stall him as much as I can. Make sure you never find yourself alone with him.”

“Why can’t it be you?”

“Me?”

“He could want to marry you instead of me,” Emily said, bringing up the thing she was most curious about. If she were a man, she would choose Dillon. Unaware of the extent to which she was blinded by sisterly love, Emily was convinced that her sister was cute, strong, and kind. She didn’t understand why Dillon didn’t consider that Cedric might want to marry her. Did she think she wasn’t good enough for him?

Dillon rolled her eyes. Then a strange expression passed over her face. “There’s no way that would happen, Emily.” She sounded certain. “And Emily, there’s one more thing I’m sure of. Even if he turns out to be the worthiest man in the world,” Dillon said, looking Emily straight in the eyes, “he’s not for you.”

“All right.”

“He’ll never be able to make you happy.”

“Okay, I understand. I promise.” Emily smiled and nodded.

As if reassured, Dillon relaxed back on the bed. The reason why Dillon Langton was so wary of the marquess’s proposal that it made her hair stand on end was that she already knew the plot of the story. But Emily, ignorant of the situation, saw something different.

Dillon’s obsession with Cedric, the way she hid Emily in her room, how she only went to meet Cedric after dressing up, and her attempt to convince Emily that Cedric wasn’t for her...

Based on her observations, Emily thought, Dillon has feelings for the marquess. The thought brought a delighted blush to Emily’s face.