A Gentleman's Daughter: Her Choice by Reina M. Williams Page A

to send Fanny and Amelia out after breakfast. Cecilia did not like to discuss such matters with them and certainly not in these circumstances, where their scrutiny was centered on she herself. Mrs. Wilcox and Mrs. Higham both seemed to believe there was something wrong with Cecilia’s very nature and she needed a husband to correct her, as her own family had been unable to do so. After over an hour of their harassment, Cecilia could hold her temper and her tongue no longer.
    “What would you have me do? Accept Mr. Mainmount even though I do not love him?”
    “When I was a girl, one married who one’s parents chose.”
    “Oh, really, Mama? I thought you chose Papa.” Cecilia perched on a chair, hands clasped. Better to look dutiful and meek, even if she was not.
    “Yes, we made a love match, it is true, and while I do not necessarily regret it, I do not know I would do the same knowing what I do now. Your aunt Higham was more prudent than I and she now reaps the benefit of it.” Mrs. Wilcox stopped in front of Cecilia’s chair and met her eyes.
    “I cannot believe you would say this. You would have me marry for money and position?”
    “You like Mr. Mainmount. In time your feelings would grow, I am sure.” Her mother waved a hand and turned, walking to the sofa. “As I say, there is much else to consider. Love always fades in time while connections and security grow more important.” Mrs. Wilcox settled herself on the sofa while Cecilia moved to rise, but her aunt stayed her.
    “I do not wish to hear any more. Please let me return to my room.”
    “Cecilia, listen to us. We have the wisdom of experience. You know your father entrusted us to guide you,” Mrs. Higham added in a calm tone.
    “He would not force me to marry where I do not love.”
    “You are and have always been a stubborn and willful child,” Mrs. Wilcox said, narrowing her eyes. “Your father is a fool when it comes to you, as well as in his notions about love. I suppose that is where you got it from.”
    “Do not speak of him so,” Cecilia replied, close to tears.
    “Very well. I know why you do not wish to accept Mr. Mainmount. It is that Mr. Cateret. You think yourself in love with him, don’t you? He will never marry you, Cecilia. He has made it no secret he does not ever plan to marry.”
    Cecilia felt the sting of her mother’s words and opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came.
    “Mr. Mainmount is much like him, you must see that. He will take better care of you, he will marry you. Do not throw yourself away on a man who would ruin you, daughter,” Mrs. Wilcox said in a placating manner.
    Cecilia pulled herself up, her face hot.
    Mrs. Higham joined Mrs. Wilcox on the sofa. “You need not decide anything now. No proposals have been made. We only ask you not to decide against anyone yet. Give your suitors a fair chance. Surely you must see the sense of that.”
    “I will try,” Cecilia replied, though she no longer knew whether to believe her own words or not. Only the clear air and open hills of home could help her see clearly. “May I go now?”
    “Yes, you need to rest awhile in case anyone calls later. Do you want a tray sent up for your luncheon?” Mrs. Wilcox asked.
    Cecilia nodded her head in assent and trudged upstairs.
    A few hours later, Cecilia was well enough to come downstairs, but her spirits were still low. Perhaps she did not know anything; it would be so much easier to give in and do as her mother wished. Certainly she did not believe she could feel much more miserable. She was happy with nothing, from her pale countenance to her dark scarlet dress. Looking down at the folds of her garment as she sat on the sofa, she thought how much she disliked the color. Whatever possessed her to choose it? She felt possessed just now, perhaps by the spirit of some contrary and melancholy imp.
    However, at least her fractious mood seemed to have driven off Mr. Lapping while her appearance seemed to have done the