JOAN’S POV
The sound of the needle piercing through fabric was soothing to me. It was a soft, calming noise that filled my room. A lot of people couldn’t hear it but I could. I noticed the small things. I could hear how the needle went through the clothes, forming something out of nothing.
I sat by the window, looking outside as I knitted. I had always loved to sew. the quiet work of knitting or stitching allowed my thoughts to wander and unravel, just like the fabric I held in my hands. But it had been a long time since I’d had the luxury to do this-since my mother had fallen ill, I’d been forced to stop, to focus on finding work, on making enough money to care for her. The small sewing business I once had was gone, and with it, a piece of myself went as well.
Still, sitting here now, knitting a simple top, I felt a small sensation of that old happiness. I allowed my hands to move, each stitch soothing me. I could almost forget everything else-almost.
But my thoughts were not so easily stilled. They drifted back, as they often did, to Sir Derrick.
I didn’t want to think about him, but the more I tried to push him from my mind, the more persistent his presence became.
His image flashed behind my eyes-his piercing gaze, the way his presence seemed to fill up the whole room, the hard set of his jaw when he was angry. I hated how easily he occupied my thoughts, how my body reacted to even the memory of his touch.
The attraction I felt toward him was infuriating. It made no sense. He was dangerous, distant, and cold. The engagement we had wasn’t one of love or even choice-it was a transaction, a way for me to secure the money my mother so desperately needed for her treatment. And yet, despite everything, I was drawn to him in ways I couldn’t explain. It scared me.
I bit my lip, remembering the kiss we had shared not long ago. It had ignited something inside me, a fire I hadn’t known was there. His touch had been possessive yet gentle at the same time, but also something more-something that unsettled me because it was so raw, so real.
This wasn’t what I had imagined for myself. I had always dreamed of marrying a man who would love me, cherish me, and build a happy home with me. I wanted warmth, security, and affection. And yet, here I was, about to marry Sir Derrick, a man who seemed incapable of those things.
I sighed, my hands pausing as I stared down at the fabric. I was confused. More than that, I was scared. My heart felt torn between desire and fear, between wanting to understand him and wanting to protect myself from whatever dark secrets lay behind his cold exterior.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.
“Joan, are you in there?” Irene’s cheerful voice rang out as she pushed open the door. Her bright smile lit up the room. She glanced down at the half-finished top in my lap and her eyes widened.
“Oh, you’re sewing again! That’s wonderful. You told me how much you loved it.”
I forced a small smile “Yeah, I thought I’d pick it up again. It helps clear my head.”
She moved toward me, sitting on the edge of the bed. I admired how beautiful she was. Her lovely red hair fell to her back in thick curls. She was dressed as luxuriously as ever – with her plaid dress, birkin bag and red bottom shoes. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine.
“You look like you could use some clearing.” she said “Is something bothering you? Is it about Derrick?”
I hesitated, not sure how much to say. Irene was Derrick’s sister, after all. But I knew I could trust her. I could tell her anything. She wasn’t like him. She was open, kind.
I nodded slowly, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I just… I don’t know what to think of him.”
Her expression softened even more, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on my arm. “Derrick is… complicated,” she said quietly. “I know he can seem distant, harsh even, but there’s more to him than what you see.”
I frowned “What do you mean?”
Irene sighed, glancing out the window for a moment before returning her gaze to mine. “Our father was a cruel man. You probably haven’t heard much about him, but he shaped Derrick into who he is now. He was hard on him-on all of us, really-but Derrick got the worst of it. He was the heir, after all. Father wanted him to be strong, unbreakable. He pushed him, punished him whenever he showed any kind of weakness. The punishments….. You can’t even imagine how tough it was. I think… I think Derrick learned to put up walls to protect himself.”
Her words hit me, knocking the air from my lungs. I hadn’t known any of this. I hadn’t even thought to wonder why Sir Derrick was the way he was. I had only seen his coldness, his distance, and assumed that was all there was to him.
But now, hearing Irene speak of their father, of the cruelty Derrick must have had endured, I felt something shift inside me-a softening, a small feeling of understanding.
“He never talks about it,” Irene continued, her voice filled with sadness. “Not to anyone. But I see it in him. He’s still that little boy, trying so hard to be strong, to not let anyone in. I think he’s afraid to care about people, afraid that it’ll make him weak.”
I swallowed hard and I found my heart aching for the man I thought I had understood. But it didn’t make things any easier.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that… this marriage, it’s not what I wanted,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I wanted someone who would love me. And I don’t think Sir Derrick is capable of that.”
Irene’s eyes softened even more, and she gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “Maybe he isn’t right now. But I think he could be, if someone gave him the chance. If you gave him the chance.”
I stared at her, my mind racing.
Could it be possible?
Could Derrick learn to love? Or was I just fooling myself, hoping for something that would never come?
I sighed, looking out the window again.
I guess I’ll just have to find out.