The Apothecary's Poison (Glass and Steele #3)(36)

"But I still don't like sitting near fireplaces, Aunt Letitia. It's the mantelpieces, you know." Charity didn't wait for a response but simply moved to the opposite end of the table.

Hope tried to smile and pretend not to be embarrassed but the candlelight picked out her blush. Dipping her head, she walked calmly to her sister's vacated chair and sat.

At first I thought Charity had conspired to help her sister sit near Matt and then I realized that Hope had been next to Cyclops. Charity smiled at him as she sank onto Hope's vacated chair.

"Wasn't it thrilling when that sheriff fellow intruded?" she said quietly. Sitting on Cyclops's other side, I could hear her perfectly. "You were so brave, Mr. Cyclops, and so strong. Just like a pirate."

He swallowed and signaled to Bristow to fill his wine glass.

I bit my lip to stop myself smiling. It felt good to find something to smile about this evening, although I doubted Cyclops would appreciate it. I looked up and caught Matt watching me, one eyebrow raised in question. I slid my eyes sideways to indicate that I smiled at Cyclops's predicament. He must have understood because he smirked too. Both Hope and Lady Abbington noticed our silent communication.

"What did the sheriff want?" Charity asked. "And what did he mean, Cousin Matthew needs his watch?"

"Who knows?" Cyclops said. "Your father's right; he's soft in the head."

I wondered if Matt was enduring similar questions down his end of the table. Hope appeared to carry much of the conversation, distracting Matt from Lady Abbington on his other side. She, however, couldn't keep her gaze off him and eventually managed to steal his attention away from Hope.

But not for long. "Hope, dear," Lady Rycroft said loudly from across the table. "Tell Matthew about Rycroft and how it looks so lovely in the summer. Oh, and tell him how many horses your father keeps in the stables."

The room fell silent.

Hope's eyes fluttered closed and she drew in a deep breath, as if fortifying herself. Then she began to tell Matt how the lake glistened in the sunshine and was perfect for picnics or boating.

"All of it will be Matthew's one day," Lady Rycroft said to Lady Abbington, again, loud enough for everyone to hear. "He's going to cast my poor girls out of their home unless he marries one of them."

"Mama," Hope said on a groan.

Patience dipped her head, but not before I saw her cheeks flush crimson.

"Don't be so dramatic, Beatrice," Miss Glass said with a shake of her head. To Lady Abbington, she added, "My sister-in-law likes to exaggerate. Patience is to be wed soon, and I'm quite sure offers will be made to Charity and Hope shortly too. Particularly Hope. Men seem to like her. And, of course, my nephew insists on marrying for love." The unspoken message that he hadn't fallen in love with his cousins hung in the air.

Lady Rycroft stared at Miss Glass as if she couldn't quite believe her own sister in law had publicly thwarted her. Then she appealed to her husband.

Lord Rycroft attacked his soup with vigor, slurping spoonful after spoonful so he couldn't talk.

"Matthew is quite the romantic," Miss Glass went on, seemingly oblivious to the tension she'd caused. "Where do you stand on the notion of marrying for love, Marianne?"

Lady Abbington seemed caught off guard for a brief moment, but quickly recovered. "I think it a very noble idea, and certainly romantic, but it's not always practical."

"Precisely," Lady Rycroft said. "Love may be well and good for the lower classes, but not us."

"I do think it possible on rare occasions," Lady Abbington went on. "Marrying for love works best where both halves of the union bring something equal to the marriage and no one benefits more than the other. That way neither husband nor wife feels as though they were taken advantage of, and love can run its course."

"Very wise, Marianne," Miss Glass said. "Don't you agree, Matthew?"

"Indeed," he said. "Speaking of marriage, tell us about your fiancé, Patience."

Patience spoke quietly yet enthusiastically about Lord Cox, and even more enthusiastically about his four children. It was clear that she adored them and was relishing becoming an instant mother upon her marriage to their father.

"There," Miss Glass said when she paused, "now that is a love match."

"Because it is equal," Lady Abbington noted. "Congratulations, Patience, you seem to have secured a rare opportunity. I hope your sisters are as fortunate. And you, Miss Steele, Miss Willie?"

"I ain't marrying," Willie declared. "I ain't going to be no man's slave, at his beck and call."

Charity snorted into her wine glass.

"Miss Steele?" Lady Abbington asked. "What do you think about marrying for love?"

"I agree with you," I said. "A happy marriage based on love can only succeed between equals, but not for the reasons you state, in my opinion. When two people are in love, neither will feel as though they were taken advantage of, because both did bring something equal to the union—love."

She conceded this point with a small shrug. Even that was elegantly effortless. "But?"

Matt set down his knife and fork and regarded me intently.

"But there are rarely just two people to consider in a marriage," I went on. "There are obligations, particularly for the party with the least to gain, and the futures of other family members must be taken into account."