The Bad Luck Bride (The Brides of St. Ives #1)(74)
“Will someone please say something?”
“Why do you have to have all the men in St. Ives? In all of England?” This from Harriet, who was laughing aloud, but Alice thought she sensed a small bit of bitterness behind her words. “Can’t you leave any for us?” Harriet, she realized, was jesting and the other girls joined in her laughter, leaving Alice relieved.
“I know he is not the man my parents would have chosen given his lack of title and family, but one cannot help whom one falls in love with. It matters not that Henderson is not wealthy or titled. I love him anyway.”
“But he is wealthy,” Eliza said with nod.
Alice furrowed her brow. “He is?”
“You remember St. Claire. Nothing fascinates him more than strangers, and your Mr. Southwell intrigued him. As it turns out, his grandfather is quite well-to-do and Mr. Southwell has made a fortune for himself whilst in India. You didn’t know?”
“We never speak of such things,” Alice said, wondering what else she didn’t know about the man she loved. She’d learned in the last few days that he could play the violin like a master and that he was probably far wealthier than Lord Northrup. “I wonder if my parents know.”
“Do you think that would make a difference?” Harriet asked.
Shaking her head, Alice said, “I don’t believe so. They care far more that he is untitled and comes from a family without status.” The ugly word floating about the room—bastard—went unspoken, though Alice suspected everyone was thinking the same thing.
“However will you convince your parents if they are so opposed?” Rebecca asked.
Alice smiled. “I am confident I can convince them Mr. Southwell is more than worthy of my hand. And if I cannot, it’s off to Gretna Green.”
The three gasped, not as much horrified as excited by the prospect of Alice hieing off to Scotland to get married.
“You wouldn’t,” said Eliza, the most proper of the four of them—at least she was now that Alice had decided to thwart convention so thoroughly. Alice had always been the one to stay on that straight line of propriety. “You have to think about what such an action would mean for Christina.”
Alice made a face. “Of course you are right, Eliza. I hadn’t thought of that, which tells you how very muddled my mind is these days. I will simply have to convince my parents that Mr. Southwell is the perfect choice for me. Then I’ll have to convince my grandfather to attend the wedding and everyone will accept Henderson. I do wish my grandmother was still alive. I know she would have adored Mr. Southwell, if only to be contrary.”
A small commotion outside the parlor door told them Harriet’s parents and sister had returned home, and the women immediately took up their knitting, a shadow falling over the small group. Clara swept in looking fresh and pretty, wearing a gown that Alice knew must have cost a fortune. Her eyes went to Harriet, taking in her far simpler gown in a dull color that was completely unflattering, and she wondered if it was Harriet’s choice to look drab or if her mother had chosen it for her.
“I don’t know how you girls can sit and knit on such a glorious day,” Clara said, spreading her arms out as if to capture the sunshine streaming through a window. “Come on, let’s go visit Zennor Quoit.”
“I don’t know if I’m up for such a walk today,” Eliza said, looking down at shoes, which were definitely not created with long walks in mind.
Clara sat down with a huff, chin in hand, and Alice was amazed at how pretty she looked even when miffed. Seconds later, she sat up, smiling, her bad mood gone. “Would you like to play whist in the garden?” She looked outside. “It is not very breezy today, so I think we could. I cannot bear to be inside on such a lovely day. I’ve already been entombed at the Fosters’ all morning.” She turned to Harriet. “How did you escape that dreary invitation?”
“Mother neglected to tell me about it,” Harriet said simply, and Alice cringed inwardly. It was not the first time Harriet had been “forgotten” at home. This abandonment had hurt her when she was younger, but Alice suspected she quite liked the freedom it gave her now that she was older.
“Really, I’m beginning to suspect she does it on purpose to punish me,” Clara said, wonderfully oblivious to the reality that she was the favored child.
Harriet gave her sister a long look tinged with disbelief and fondness. “I don’t think Mother would bring you anywhere as punishment,” she said, and Alice could hear the irony in her voice even if Clara could not.
Clara let out an inelegant snort. “Then why am I always forced to go and you are allowed to remain home?”
“Perhaps she hopes there will be a bachelor in attendance who can catch your eye,” Eliza said, at which Clara rolled her eyes.
“I have no interest in marriage. Why should I when I’m perfectly content as I am?”
“What if you met the man of your dreams?” Eliza asked, then her eyes widened. “Who is the man of your dreams?”
“He doesn’t exist,” Clara said, and all the ladies laughed.
“The man of my dreams is tall and handsome and witty and adores children,” Eliza said. “And he has to be rich and be fashionable. And a title would be nice, but not necessary. Oh, and he must love to read and have a dog, but not like to hunt because I think hunting is rather cruel when we can just go to the butcher for our meat.”