by Abigail Agar
“And why should I? No matter how wonderful my father is in many ways, that makes him no less terrifying. He has a great deal of power, as does Lord Hawthorn. And if my intended desires the match, what choice do I have that would save my reputation?” Isla asked.
“Surely they cannot question your reputation simply because you do not agree to a match,” Beatrice said.
“They can do whatever they want,” she replied, bitterly.
The truth of her words struck at the heart of the issue. The reality was that they had no power. They had no option as to whether or not they could control their own lives.
The girls were stuck. They would have to be moulded and twisted about in whichever direction society forced them to. It was not simply a matter of status; it was a matter of womanhood.
Beatrice felt near to weeping for her friend. She couldn’t believe that Lord Seton would so vehemently refuse to hear his daughter’s request.
It was cruel.
But there was nothing they could do.
“He wants me to marry. And of course, he wants me to marry a man who is above our own status. Someone who is beyond us. So what would lead him to allowing me to marry a baron? It is exactly as I said before,” she said.
“And what if Lord Hawthorn does not desire a marriage?” Beatrice asked.
“He would never refuse my father,” Isla said. “He knows better than that. And now, so do I.”
“Do you think he loves you? If he does, certainly he would not accept your refusal. But if he does not love you, perhaps he would be willing to come to an arrangement. Perhaps not; maybe he is as frightened of your father as you say. But, if you don’t believe he loves you, it could be worth a try,” Beatrice said.
“It sounds far too easy. I do not believe that he loves me, but how might I risk asking him? What if he were to tell my father?” Isla asked.
“Then you would explain to your father that you could not abide his desire for you to marry anyone other than the Baron of Ryle,” Beatrice said.
“You simplify things too much. If you had a father like mine, you would know that it is not an option,” she said.
“I have lived here for three years and I know your father well. He is a good man, Isla. Why do you think any differently?” Beatrice asked.
“Because you have only lived here for three years. You did not grow up with him, Beatrice. And he is not your father, he is your employer. It is a completely different situation. He controls so much of your life, but he does not control who you marry. For that, it is his daughters who are subject to him,” she said.
Beatrice had never thought about it that way. She felt that her entire life was controlled by the rules of status and the London elite. But, now that Isla addressed it this way, she realised how fortunate she had been all along.
It had been markedly easier for her. She still had a great deal of say over much of her life. Certainly, her mother and father would hold sway as to her prospects, but not in the same way. Now that she was far from them they were far less inclined to meddle in such issues, even if it would have been acceptable for them to do so.
Beatrice was aching to hear all of this. She wished that she knew nothing of this matter between her friend and Lord Hawthorn.
All she wanted was for him to be in her own life. Even if he were a single man, even if they had met under entirely different circumstances, they would never have been able to be together. It would not be acceptable by any of society’s standards.
She had to accept that. Beatrice felt like such a fool. She was nothing more than a governess and could never have the happiness that she desired.
After departing from speaking with Isla, Beatrice returned to her room and decided to write to her mother.
Dearest Mother,
I do hope that you are well. Oh, I cannot express how much I miss you. Our time together was far too short. I must return soon. That, or you and Louise must come to London to see me.
And I do hope that father is well. I miss him a great deal. It was so difficult not seeing him while I was there to visit you.
Since returning to London, many things have become apparent to me. I have seen how my dear friend is preparing to marry, and I have realised the ways in which this is going to impact me. I know that my employers are good people; however, I do not know that I wish to stay here under their employ once Lady Seton has left the home.
Moreover, I understand the importance of having a match of my own. I am seeing how loneliness is able to affect me.
It makes me ache to write this, Mother, but I do desire a husband. One who loves me. One who I can enjoy spending my time with.
I do not know such a man.
Beatrice pulled her pen from the paper, knowing it to be a lie.
But, I trust that you will find one for me. I trust that you know what shall be best for your daughter when it comes to finding a husband. After all, you and father love one another so well, I cannot imagine entrusting my future to anyone better.
Thank you, Mother, for your offer. I heartily accept.
Once you have considered a man for the arrangement, please write to me. I shall speak with my employer about coming to visit.
With love,
Bea
She winced as she read through the letter again, wondering if the ache of her heart was legible through the words that she had actually used. Would her mother be able to see what it was that she really meant? Would her mother know that Beatrice was in a terrible state?
It no longer mattered.
She sent the letter and decided to continue about her day, following the same routines, eating with the other staff, carrying on through lessons with the girls, and pretending that she had no concerns at all for herself.
It was an easy part to play. After all, she had been playing it for a full three years.
Beatrice knew that Isla would be concerned if she knew that Beatrice’s heart was also breaking. But she had no desire to display it yet for Isla to see. It was too painful, and she thought that she was better off just trying to keep her spirits up and act as though everything were utterly fine.
First, she had to see Isla through this season. Hopefully, whether Isla married Lord Hawthorn or Lord Beckridge, Beatrice’s mother would have found her a match by the time Isla was moving away from the family home.
No matter how she loved Cecile and Mary, it was growing too painful to remain. Lord Seton was not the same warm, kind man that she had always known him to be. Now she was seeing that he could be rather determined, and not always in an admirable way.
Time had wasted Beatrice’s hopes for a better life and a better future. But now, she was resigned to whatever decision her mother made for her. She could tell herself that she would only accept the match if it was love, that she was determined to truly care for any man that she was willing to wed, but it was not true.
She had given up the belief that love could prevail. She had seen enough of her own life slipping away to believe that there was only sadness and pity, and the remains of a faulty desire for something more. She would let it all go. She would finally be content to know that this was her lot.
And nothing would change that.
Chapter 22
After the previous visit with Lord Seton, Peter realised he had very little choice in the matter other than to speak with his intended.
It had been strange that he had been so insistent upon Peter and Lady Seton marrying so quickly. But, alas, he knew that there had to be a reason. Peter had been in society long enough to know that fathers always had a reason for insisting upon their daughters marrying.
If it was not a question of her reputation, something else must have happened. After all, the plans that they had already made should have been fine. It had to be something more.
Bearing that in mind, Peter made his way to the Seton Estate.
As he knocked on the door, Peter was unsure as to how his inquiry would be taken. He also did not know whether or not Lord Seton would be present.
When the housekeeper opened up the door, he smiled and she let him in with a greeting.
“I would like to speak with Lady Seton,” Peter said.
“It will be just a moment,” she said.
The maid led Peter to the parlour, as was expected.
There, he waited until Lady Seton entered the room.
“Good afternoon, My Lord,” she said with a curtesy.
Peter bowed in reply and gave a greeting of his own.
With that, the two of them sat and the maid came to bring the tea.
They were silent for a moment, but the maid stood nearby. Peter was relieved that she understood the need for a chaperone, but he wondered whether or not his future bride’s mother and father would deem it acceptable.
“Are your mother and father home?” Peter asked.
“No, they are not. Would you prefer to come at a time when they are here?” she asked.
“Do you believe they would prefer it?” Peter asked.
“I think it does not matter, so long as Sybil is here,” she said.
Peter looked at the maid and gave her a nod of appreciation.
“In that case, I must speak with you on a matter,” Peter said.
“Yes, and what is that?” Lady Seton asked.
“It is in regards to our wedding, pertaining to some plans that your father has presented me with,” he specified.
“I see. And what is it that my father has asked of you?” Lady Seton asked.
“Your father has inquired as to whether or not we should move up the wedding to an earlier date. I was curious as to your thoughts. I do have a few concerns as far as the timeline goes with my business, but I should like to know your perspective,” he said.
Lady Seton looked bothered. However, she said nothing. Of course, Peter understood that she would not be allowed to make a comment that stood in opposition to her father.
Still, he was glad to have seen the expression that she made. It helped him to understand that this was not her decision. It certainly appeared as though she had little interest in moving up the wedding.
“Am I correct in assuming that you have little desire to see this happen?” Peter asked.
She did not answer right away, but he could tell that he had understood correctly. It was very clear that Lady Seton was not looking forward to moving up the wedding either.
“If you will forgive me, I have one more question,” he said.
“Please,” she replied.
“I am curious as to whether or not your father spoke to you about this,” he said.
She shook her head rather than speaking her answer.
“That must be very frustrating,” Peter said.
“Perhaps,” she replied, looking detached.
She was not overly emotional, but Peter was wondering if she had any interest at all. In fact, it seemed as though she would prefer that he simply leave her alone altogether.
Perhaps he was taking it too personally. Perhaps she was simply upset that her father had not spoken to her.
Regardless of the reason, Peter began to question the entire marriage more than ever before. Rather than simply wondering if it had to be moved up, and rather than trying to understand his own feelings, he found himself intrigued in regards to Lady Seton and her desires.
It certainly appeared as though she had no interest in him whatsoever. And if that was the case, he realised that something must be done.
She seemed perfectly uncomfortable speaking about matters as they sat there in front of the maid. Peter decided they needed a change of venue.
“How would you feel about going for a stroll in Hyde Park?” he asked.
“Yes, that sounds lovely,” she replied.
It was arranged for the housekeeper to join them as a chaperone and the two went for a walk out in society.
“This is better, do you not think?” Peter asked.
Lady Seton smiled in agreement.
“Indeed, it was a very good idea,” she said.
“Do you feel as though we may speak more freely out here?” he asked.
“Lord Hawthorn, I have very little to say. What my father desires, I shall accept,” she said sadly.
Just as Peter was about to speak against that, he saw Andrew coming towards them.
“Lord Hawthorn! And Lady Seton, how good to see you both,” Andrew said, looking a good deal happier than he had the last time that he had seen them together.
Peter smiled and greeted his friend. Yet, it felt as though Andrew was looking toward Lady Seton more than he was interested in speaking with Peter.
He did not take it personally. Instead, he realised that he had a perfect opportunity to see how Lady Seton responded to Andrew. After all, they had got along so well at the ball and Andrew had certainly been interested in her. It was only natural that he should try to discern whether or not there were mutual feelings at hand.
Peter watched the smiles between the two of them. And before he knew it, they were engaging in a conversation.
“How is your family?" Andrew asked.
“They are very well, thank you,” she replied.
“I am glad to hear it. You know, ever since the gathering that your father hosted, I have been longing for more of those pastries,” he said, laughing.
“Oh, dear, do you think you could possibly eat any more of them?” Lady Seton asked, giggling in a girlish way.
“I believe you noted that I could hardly stop myself. Indeed, I crave them constantly,” Andrew said.
“I would have thought that you would not be able to stomach them ever again. After all, you consumed nearly half the table,” she replied.
Peter could sense that he was missing something. Perhaps it was something that had taken place at the dinner party. But rather than interrupt and try to make a conversation of his own, he simply decided to listen.
Andrew and Lady Seton continued on. After finishing their discussion of the refreshments table, they began to laugh about an observation they had made of another guest.
Peter continued to stand there, silently. What began as a desire for observation was quickly shifting into something else.
He was beginning to feel frustrated. Alone.
Although he was more than happy to see his friend and Lady Seton enjoying one another, Peter wished that he could have such an interaction.
He wished that he, too, could go back to that night. But he could indulge in sharing memories. He wished that he could be seated with none other than Miss Cloud.
She had brought him so much joy that evening. She had been the only one that he had wanted to spend time with. The conversation had been thrilling and enjoyable.
But even if he were to meet her in public, the way Andrew and Lady Seton had met, he would not be able to speak with her this way. Due to the difference in their status, they would never have the freedom to indulge in their memories. They would never be given such an opportunity to enjoy reminiscing.
