by Daphne Bloom
“Quite well,” Elise says, running her hand over her stomach. “I’m certain it’s a boy. This pregnancy feels much different from my last one. I was sick all the time with Judith, and my back ached horribly. This time, I hardly feel pregnant at all—except for my huge size of course.”
Constance shrugs and stands and leans over Papa, moving a stray hair from his forehead. “I do hope so. Though, I always thought my pregnancies were going to be boys too.”
“You always lived in a fantasy,” Elise quips, and Constance looks hurt. I never understood why Elise and Constance bicker so much. They are both married and have children. They have homes of their own and seem happy. I can’t understand it, but at least they don’t drag me into it.
“You should be worried most of all,” Constance says in a harsh whisper to Elise. “If he dies before your son is born it won’t mean a thing. Everything will go to Cousin Albert!”
Elise presses her lips and looks away, but I’m suddenly struck with fear. In my concern for Papa, I had forgotten my predicament.
“He never changed his will,” I say, my own eyes tearing. “I spoke to him about it at breakfast. Begged him to reconsider, but he refused! I upset him greatly. This is all my fault!”
Constance shakes her head. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry. You mustn’t blame yourself. I don’t understand how he could turn a blind eye to your situation.”
“He didn’t,” Elise says. “He knows that Lily is odd.” Constance starts to say something in my defense, but Elise goes on. “There’s no sense denying it. Still, that doesn’t mean she can’t get married and have a perfectly fine life. Her dowry is quite generous.”
“What do you know about my dowry?” I ask.
“Papa actually did change his will recently,” she says, and my heart beats rapidly. Had he changed it in my favor and not told me because he didn’t want me to stop searching for a husband? “He increased your dowry by five hundred pounds!”
I fear I’m going to swoon as my head swims. Five hundred pounds? That’s a small fortune. I could easily live on such an amount for the rest of my life. But that means my total dowry is…more money than I could ever need.
“Five hundred pounds?” Constance squeals. “That means her dowry is twice what mine was!”
Elise raises an eyebrow. “You and I were married by twenty. Lily is already two and twenty and…not as marriable as we were. It’s clear that any possible suitors out there need a bit more incentive.”
“Do you think a man who marries me for such a large amount of money will be a good husband?” I ask, feeling uneasy.
“I agree with Lily,” Constance says. “This is dangerous. All manner of fortune hunters and rakes will be after her if word gets out.”
“How could he do that?” I ask. “He went to the effort to change his will to increase my dowry but not give it to me directly should I become a spinster? Why?”
“He didn’t want you to give up,” Elise says, patting my shoulder. “Just because you are a little peculiar doesn’t mean a man can’t overlook certain…quirks in exchange for a lovely, dutiful, and very rich wife.”
“But I don’t want to marry—!” I start to say, my voice raising, when the door opens and the last man any of us want to see walks in.
“Cousins,” Albert says as he strides toward us. “How is he faring?”
“Quite well,” Constance says in a strangely loud voice. I look at her quizzically, wondering why she’s lying. “He’s only resting. I’m sure he will be back to his old self in no time.”
“Oh?” he asks as he steps between Elise and me to get a better look at Papa. “The doctor seemed less than optimistic.”
“He is only being cautious about giving false hope,” Elise says. “But I’m sure he will wake soon.”
“Let’s pray to God it is so,” he says as he stands back, moving to the foot of the bed. I can feel him looking at me, but I don’t meet his eyes. He has always given me an uncomfortable feeling.
Cousin Albert is actually a distant cousin, but I couldn’t explain exactly how he is related to us.
He is nearly thirty and still unmarried. He’s a bit portly around the middle and in his jowl, fair of hair, and has red cheeks. His table manners are abominable, often speaking with food in his mouth. He has a droning voice that he likes to use to give long-winded explanations about things I don’t understand or find interesting. Even when I tell him I’d rather speak about something else, he acts as though he doesn’t hear me.
Yet this boor of a man is Papa’s heir. My sisters and I liked to pretend he didn’t exist. Elise and Constance would rather have as many children as quickly as possible in the hopes of birthing an heir than face the fact that Cousin Albert is actually going to inherit everything if a boy fails to appear.
He also seems to want to marry me for some unknown reason. He has never made an official proposal, thankfully. In truth, at his current rank, he would never have a chance of marrying an earl’s daughter, even one as strange as me. But if Papa were to die today, Cousin Albert would suddenly be Earl Derby, and I have no doubt that a marriage proposal would swiftly follow. A proposal I am sure Mama would force me to accept.
I start to cry again at the reminder that Cousin Albert could in fact become my husband and look back to Papa, praying for him to wake up.
“Please, Papa,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Please wake up.”
“Lily, darling,” Elise says, and I feel her fingernails digging into my shoulder. “I’m sure Papa will recover soon.”
“Ouch,” I say, shrugging her off. “What?”
Constance jumps to her feet and goes to Cousin Albert’s side. “I’m sorry, but Lily is having a difficult day. Would you please excuse us?”
“Of course,” he says, giving us a small bow as he leaves the room.
“What was that for?” I ask Elise as soon as he’s gone.
“I don’t want him to know just how bad off Father is,” she says. “Don’t give Albert hope that all of this—including you—is very near his grasp.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t realize—”
“It’s all right,” Constance says from her new place at the foot of the bed. “Elise, how do you know what Papa’s will says?”
“Jeremy was a witness to the signing,” she says of her husband.
“What else did it say?” Constance asks. “What happens to Lily’s dowry if he dies?”
Elise’s face falls and she looks at me, then back at Constance, and I have the feeling she doesn’t want to tell me.
“What?” I prod. “What does it say?”
“It…forms part of the estate,” Elise says, and my knees give out from under me. Elise starts to move toward me, but she is hampered by her large belly. Constance comes to me, gripping my arm and waving her lavender-scented handkerchief in front of my face. I sit down on the floor and lean against the nightstand by Papa’s bed.
“I…I always thought that the dowry would still be separate,” I say. “That if I married later, even after Pap died, the money would still be there.”
“So did I,” Constance says. “What a cruel thing to do!”
“Jeremy said that Papa’s solicitor tried to talk him out of it, tried to convince him that Lily needed some sort of protection, security should the worst happen. But Papa was too stubborn to listen.”
I feel sick and can’t help crying. “My fate is sealed, then,” I say. “I must either marry Albert or be a penniless relation. Which one of you will take me in?” They glance at each other.
“Of course we will take care of you should the need arise,” Constance says. “But it’s not going to come to that.”
“Why not?” I ask. “What other option is there?”
“You could marry someone else,” Elise says.
“What?” I ask. “Who?”
“Luckily for you, the Season has already begun,” Elise says. “Lily, we are going to London to find you a husband.”
Chapter
Six
Henry
“You cannot bring that thing with you!” George says, staring intently at Rashi so hard I think a vein in his neck might pop. Rashi climbs from one of my shoulders to the other and chitters, his long tail like a comforting scarf about my neck.
“Why not?” I ask innocently. “Rashi is as well-mannered as any housedog.”
“But he’s not a dog, is he? George says. “He’s a squirrel. Vermin! It’s not acceptable to bring vermin into another person’s house.”
“Think of it as an easy way to weed through the possible marriage choices,” I say as I pull a biscuit from my pocket and hand it to Rashi. He holds the biscuit in his hands like a tiny human as he nibbles away at it. He’s so adorable! “If a woman cannot accept Rashi, then she’s not the woman for me.”
George groans and I wonder if he’s going to pass out in frustration.
“I’m sure it’s fine, George,” Alice says as she enters the room in a lovely pastel purple day dress.
“Beautiful as always, sister,” I say charmingly. It never hurts to use a little flattery to get what one wants.
“Thank you, Henry,” she says. “Shall we go? We are supposed to meet Lady Brunswick for tea in half an hour.”
“Let’s go,” George says, ignoring me.
“Why are we visiting Lady Brunswick?” I ask when we are all seated in the carriage, Rashi sitting on my lap but looking anxiously out the window.
“Because I haven’t seen her in an age,” Alice says.
“No, I mean us,” I say, pointing to George and myself. “I don’t know Lady Brunswick.”
“And her sister, Elise, is married as well, is she not?” George adds.
“Well, I was going to attend alone,” Alice explains, “but as we were making arrangements she mentioned that her other sister is also with them.”
“I didn’t know Lady Brunswick had another sister,” George says.
“So it begins…” I mumble to myself. I thought that the matchmaking would be constrained to balls and formal dinners. I didn’t know that our very first tea out upon arrival would be an attempt to find me a wife.
“I don’t know that I’ve ever met her,” Alice says. “She would have come out only after the rest of us were married, so we’ve probably never been in the city at the same time before.”
“What’s she like?” George asks.
“Well, if she is anything like her sisters, I’m sure she’s the best of ladies. Beauty, grace…and lots of money.”
“Humph. That rules her out of having any interest in me, then,” I say.
“Her name is Lily,” Alice says. “Do be polite.”
The carriage comes to a stop in front of a large house in Belgrave Square. Honestly, we could have walked the short distance from Chester Square, where our city residence is located. It’s a mere half-mile away. It is quite hot, though, so I suppose Alice didn’t want to risk us arriving smelling as if we’d just ridden over on horseback.
“Is Lord Brunswick a duke?” I ask. Considering the neighborhood, I think he must be.
“He is,” Alice says. “But this is the home of her parents. Her father is the earl of Pembroke.”
I sigh again. If Lily is an earl’s daughter, that is another reason for her to reject me. Even though we would be of equal station, she wouldn’t want to settle for a broken second son, I’m sure. But I keep my grumblings to myself for the moment as we are already up the steps and entering the front door, held open by a butler.
The butler starts when he sees Rashi on my shoulder, but he then shrugs it off. “I am to show you all to the garden,” the butler says after he takes our hats and other sundries. A footman offers to take my cane, thinking it is nearly ornamental.
“I’m afraid I must keep that with me,” I say.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” he stammers, his cheeks reddening.
“No trouble at all,” I tell him as I follow the butler, George, and Alice through the house to the terrace at the back of the house.
The garden is similar to ours: green, lush, with smartly paved paths that encompass small garden plots. After a moment, though, I realize that it is much more beautiful than ours. There are several varieties of flowers in bloom despite the heat. The small bushes are trimmed into interesting shapes. The few trees that grow large enough to offer shade seem perfectly spread out so that they both provide relief from the sun but don’t make a person feel crowded or that they are in a wild wood. In one corner, I spy a tiny white cottage with large glass windows that must serve as a greenhouse, and I can see someone moving around inside. Rashi runs down my leg and under a bush to explore.
“And this is my brother, Henry,” I hear George say, and I turn to see that I’ve been introduced to two lovely ladies, one heavy with child. The other one offers me her hand, and I kiss the back of it.
“Charmed,” I say.
“Likewise,” the woman says. “And my sister Elise, Lady Torrington.”
I greet her as well. So the first woman must be Constance. We have not, then, been yet graced with the presence of the marriageable sister, Lily. I suppose she is preparing to make a grand entrance.
“And your other sister?” Alice says.
“She seems to have wandered off again,” Constance says lightly, but there seems to be a hint of something tight in her voice, as if embarrassed. She glances around and I see her jaw drop as we spy a well-dressed young woman exit from the greenhouse carrying a potted plant.
“Oh,” Elise says with an exasperated sigh. “There she is.”
“I was wondering who was out there,” I say. “Your garden is truly wonderful. My compliments to your gardener.”
“Well, if she comes over here you can tell her yourself,” Constance says as she begins marching across the yard.
“Your sister is your gardener?” I say jokingly to Elise, but her cheeks turn pink and I think I’ve said something inappropriate.
“She’s just very interested in flowers,” Elise says tightly.
Lily follows dutifully behind Constance as the two join us, her head bowed in shame. “This is our youngest sister, Lily.”
“Hello,” Lily says, not raising her head.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lily,” Alice says.
“Thank you,” Lily says, and I’m confused by her mannerisms. I don’t see why she should be ashamed of becoming distracted by her gardening while waiting for us.
“Lily,” Constance says, gripping her sister’s arm, “this is Henry, Lord Pembroke’s son. The man I was telling you about.”
Lily suddenly raises her head and looks at me and I’m struck by her piercing blue eyes. She’s no mere girl, but a young woman, probably in her early twenties. She has defined cheekbones and a sharp chin, all of which are softened by her pale blond hair that curls around her face. She’s beautiful. How can she still be unmarried?
“I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Henry,” she says. Her eyes drop again as she holds her thin hand up to me. It sounds as though she is reciting a script. I take her hand in mine and notice that it is a bit dry and rough, not as soft as most ladies’ hands. I can also feel a thin sheen of dirt on them, probably from working in her greenhouse.
“The pleasure is mine,” I say.
Everyone is quiet and I catch them all smiling as I release Lily’s hand. I don’t know how they can all suddenly start having dreams of a grand wedding between myself and Lily after a mere greeting. But that’s matchmakers for you.
“You have a cane,” Lily says, eyeing the damn thing, and I’m so shocked by her words I’m almost unsure how to respond. I drop her hand and take a step back. I can hear her sisters gasp.
“Umm…yes. Yes, I do.”
“Were you injured?” she asks.
“Lily!” Elise hisses.
“I was, actually,” I say, not wanting to embarrass Lily. It was a fair question, after all. “In India.”
“I have several orchids from India,” Lily offers, and I’m a bit flabberga
sted by the sudden change of topic. I can’t help but look to her sisters for guidance on what to say next.
“Shall we sit down?” Constance asks, and we all follow her over to a table set in the middle of the garden with porcelain dishes, silverware, and pressed, white napkins.
Lily sits across from me and I’m not sure what to make from her. She’s peculiar, certainly, but there is something intriguing about her as well. It was rude of her to mention the cane I suppose…or was it? I do have a cane, after all. It’s natural that she be curious about it, especially if her sisters have already told her that I might make a good husband for her. But it didn’t seem to bother her at all, she was simply curious. And the way she easily moved on to another topic seems to indicate that the cane or the mention of my injury was of any concern to her.
She keeps her head down and her hands in her lap, as if she’s terribly uncomfortable, and I suppose she is. She must know why I’m here just as well as I do. Is she as against a marriage as I am for some reason? Is she being forced to be here as well? Is that why she’s acting so strangely, to put me off? Perhaps partly, but her mannerisms don’t seem contrived or forced. There is something odd about her, though I can’t put my finger on what exactly. I don’t see anything that would make her unmarriageable, especially as the daughter of an earl with a, presumably, generous dowry. The whole situation is bizarre, I must say.
“How long has it been since you returned from India?” Elise asks and I realize she’s talking to me.
“About six months I think,” I say. “Though I don’t remember the first few weeks.”
“Did you enjoy India?” Constance asks.
“I did, at least until the very end,” I say, trying to make light of my injury. “It is an endlessly fascinating place.”
“What did you do there?” she asks. A couple of footmen move around the table, filling our teacups and offering us a variety of light sweet and savory dishes.
“Reconnaissance, mostly,” I say. “Traveling here and there, exploring the landscapes and people. Getting a feel for an area before the army sent in more men.”
