Pride, and Money, and Power. Lucius had all three; what Elinor lacked in the last two, she made up in spades with the first.
‘I, you see,’ explained Lucius, as if the small passage between them had not occurred, ‘am plentifully supplied with the oh-so-filthy lucre on which our world turns, but regrettably lacking a wife.’
‘I never heard that you considered that much of a misfortune,’ Elinor shot back.
‘No?’ Lucius smiled. ‘I never realised you kept yourself so acquainted with the minutiae of my life. I am flattered that you cared to do so.’ Elinor felt herself blushing; knew that Lucius could see the tell-tale colour flooding to her cheeks. He allowed the silence to linger for a moment before continuing to speak. ‘Nevertheless, there you have it. I am in need of a – shall we say – an amenable wife; you are in need of money. It seems we both have something the other requires.’
Elinor stopped pacing and stood looking down at Lucius. ‘Do you really think,’ she asked, her voice low, ‘that I would sell myself for my own betterment?’
Lucius’s answer was oblique. ‘I gather your mother’s doctor’s bills are large.’
‘I’ll manage something.’ Elinor dug her fingernails deeply into her palms. She couldn’t bring herself to say that she didn’t need money. She needed it so desperately it hurt. Mrs Everton’s chances of recovery were minimal without the continued attendance of the doctor.
A doctor who would not be returning unless his last bill was paid.
If the money had been for herself, it would have been easy to refuse Lucius. But for her mother – oh, for her mother ... And in one way, it was so tempting to take up his offer. After all, it was not as if he were suggesting something she did not want to do. Elinor thought about the offers she had refused in her first season, and faced for the first time the knowledge that it had been thoughts of Lucius which had prevented her marrying before. But that had been when things were different. When she was a decent match for an eligible young man.
To drop her pride, though, to the extent that she would marry Lucius in order to let him pay her family’s debts for her? It was too much to ask. Too much. In an unusual moment of self-doubt, Elinor wondered whether the only reason Lucius had made the offer was because he knew she wouldn’t take it. He could humiliate her with no fear of reprisals – no fear of finding himself saddled with an unwanted wife. It was not as if by birth she was no match for Lucius. But since her father’s unexpected early death, Elinor and her mother had moved ever further down the social ladder. Now they owned nothing, not even a house; and Elinor’s mother was sick.
‘Of course, I would require an obedient wife,’ Lucius said.
‘Then it is fortunate that I do not aspire to the position,’ Elinor replied through gritted teeth.
Lucius smiled. ‘Three days, Elinor. Tell me your answer then.’
There must be something. There had to be something. Elinor thought she would rather die than marry Lucius for his money. She spent three days trying every possible avenue – governessing, even chamber-maid positions; but it was made clear to her that she was not considered an appropriate candidate for either. Too ill-educated for the first; too well-educated for the second.
And meantime she watched her mother dying, inch by inevitable inch.
Lucius came on the third day, and she arrayed herself in her best – or rather, in her least worn – dress to meet him. When Molly announced his arrival, Elinor forced herself to look at him, to make the expected curtsey. And then to say, her eyes lowered in shame, that she would marry him.
‘I accept your proposal. And I thank you for it.’ The second sentence caused bile to rise in her mouth, but it had to be done. He had bought and paid for her; her future now was to be the dutiful, obedient, wife which he required.
‘I am overcome by the honour.’
Elinor
‘I, you see,’ explained Lucius, as if the small passage between them had not occurred, ‘am plentifully supplied with the oh-so-filthy lucre on which our world turns, but regrettably lacking a wife.’
‘I never heard that you considered that much of a misfortune,’ Elinor shot back.
‘No?’ Lucius smiled. ‘I never realised you kept yourself so acquainted with the minutiae of my life. I am flattered that you cared to do so.’ Elinor felt herself blushing; knew that Lucius could see the tell-tale colour flooding to her cheeks. He allowed the silence to linger for a moment before continuing to speak. ‘Nevertheless, there you have it. I am in need of a – shall we say – an amenable wife; you are in need of money. It seems we both have something the other requires.’
Elinor stopped pacing and stood looking down at Lucius. ‘Do you really think,’ she asked, her voice low, ‘that I would sell myself for my own betterment?’
Lucius’s answer was oblique. ‘I gather your mother’s doctor’s bills are large.’
‘I’ll manage something.’ Elinor dug her fingernails deeply into her palms. She couldn’t bring herself to say that she didn’t need money. She needed it so desperately it hurt. Mrs Everton’s chances of recovery were minimal without the continued attendance of the doctor.
A doctor who would not be returning unless his last bill was paid.
If the money had been for herself, it would have been easy to refuse Lucius. But for her mother – oh, for her mother ... And in one way, it was so tempting to take up his offer. After all, it was not as if he were suggesting something she did not want to do. Elinor thought about the offers she had refused in her first season, and faced for the first time the knowledge that it had been thoughts of Lucius which had prevented her marrying before. But that had been when things were different. When she was a decent match for an eligible young man.
To drop her pride, though, to the extent that she would marry Lucius in order to let him pay her family’s debts for her? It was too much to ask. Too much. In an unusual moment of self-doubt, Elinor wondered whether the only reason Lucius had made the offer was because he knew she wouldn’t take it. He could humiliate her with no fear of reprisals – no fear of finding himself saddled with an unwanted wife. It was not as if by birth she was no match for Lucius. But since her father’s unexpected early death, Elinor and her mother had moved ever further down the social ladder. Now they owned nothing, not even a house; and Elinor’s mother was sick.
‘Of course, I would require an obedient wife,’ Lucius said.
‘Then it is fortunate that I do not aspire to the position,’ Elinor replied through gritted teeth.
Lucius smiled. ‘Three days, Elinor. Tell me your answer then.’
There must be something. There had to be something. Elinor thought she would rather die than marry Lucius for his money. She spent three days trying every possible avenue – governessing, even chamber-maid positions; but it was made clear to her that she was not considered an appropriate candidate for either. Too ill-educated for the first; too well-educated for the second.
And meantime she watched her mother dying, inch by inevitable inch.
Lucius came on the third day, and she arrayed herself in her best – or rather, in her least worn – dress to meet him. When Molly announced his arrival, Elinor forced herself to look at him, to make the expected curtsey. And then to say, her eyes lowered in shame, that she would marry him.
‘I accept your proposal. And I thank you for it.’ The second sentence caused bile to rise in her mouth, but it had to be done. He had bought and paid for her; her future now was to be the dutiful, obedient, wife which he required.
‘I am overcome by the honour.’
Elinor
Similar Books
