affectionate smile. “You and I both know our match was at the instigation of our families. It was simply blind luck that I found you wildly attractive and dashing and fell thoroughly in love with you at first sight.” She paused. “Well, perhaps not at first sight but very soon and quite forever.”
Father appeared somewhat mollified by her words.
“And look at how well we have turned out.” She beamed at her daughter. “Cordelia dear, we’re not asking you to make a decision at this very moment. You should have time to consider this. In fact, as we are leaving for Brighton within the week, I thought it would be an excellent idea if you and the younger Mr. Sinclair were to exchange notes while we are away from London. You can begin to get to know one another. One can learn a great deal about a man’s nature by what he reveals on the written page.”
“Why don’t we just have them meet?” Father drummed his fingers on the desk. “Best to get it over and done with.”
“Because, dear husband, you told me Mr. Sinclair wasn’t entirely certain how his son would respond to all this. A first meeting would be exceptionally awkward at this point. Far and away too much tension with the specter of marriage hanging over their heads. He may well be no more enamored of this proposal than Cordelia is.”
“He may not be? She doesn’t want to?” Father’s glare slid from his wife to his daughter and back. “What in the name of all that’s holy has happened here? There was a time when what a man said in his own household was sacred.”
Cordelia and her mother traded glances. Neither woman was about to tell the earl that his wife and daughters—especially this daughter—had always managed to wrap him around their little fingers. Still, in the past, Cordelia had always been allied with her mother. Now it appeared her parents were united.
“Very well.” Father heaved a long suffering sigh. “I assume you will agree to that much?”
“Yes, of course.” Cordelia nodded with relief. “I would be more than happy to write to Mr. Sinclair. Although”—she glanced at her mother—“wouldn’t it be proper for him to write to me first?”
“Under other circumstances, I would agree. However as Mr. Sinclair is an American, I imagine he would appreciate a certain forthright attitude in a potential wife.”
“I can certainly be forthright,” Cordelia murmured.
Writing to this Daniel Sinclair would at least give her time to figure a way out of this encouraged match. Still, she couldn’t formulate any kind of plan until she knew, well, not precisely the enemy but the opposition. Writing to him would be a step in that direction but would take entirely too long. No, she was not about to be coerced into marriage through inaction. She had todo something. She needed a brilliant plan, a smashingly good idea. Nothing came to mind at the moment but she was confident it would. After all, as her father had said, she had a fine mind. And she fully intended to put it to good use.
“Explain to me again why we are hiding in a carriage outside a park gate at what even the most stalwart of souls would consider an ungodly time of morning.” Sarah stifled a yawn and glared at her friend.
“It’s part of the plan,” Cordelia said absently and continued to peer out the window at one of the many streets that ended, or perhaps started, depending on one’s point of view and direction, at the park. “I explained the plan quite thoroughly to you last evening.”
“Apparently I was not paying the proper amount of attention.”
“Probably not, as you were writing yet another letter to that mysterious suitor of yours,” Cordelia murmured.
“He’s neither a suitor nor mysterious. Simply an old friend with whom I correspond.” Sarah’s tone was cool as it always was when talk turned to this particular topic. Her secrecy was most annoying as it was probably the only secret she and Cordelia did not share.
Sarah Elizabeth
Father appeared somewhat mollified by her words.
“And look at how well we have turned out.” She beamed at her daughter. “Cordelia dear, we’re not asking you to make a decision at this very moment. You should have time to consider this. In fact, as we are leaving for Brighton within the week, I thought it would be an excellent idea if you and the younger Mr. Sinclair were to exchange notes while we are away from London. You can begin to get to know one another. One can learn a great deal about a man’s nature by what he reveals on the written page.”
“Why don’t we just have them meet?” Father drummed his fingers on the desk. “Best to get it over and done with.”
“Because, dear husband, you told me Mr. Sinclair wasn’t entirely certain how his son would respond to all this. A first meeting would be exceptionally awkward at this point. Far and away too much tension with the specter of marriage hanging over their heads. He may well be no more enamored of this proposal than Cordelia is.”
“He may not be? She doesn’t want to?” Father’s glare slid from his wife to his daughter and back. “What in the name of all that’s holy has happened here? There was a time when what a man said in his own household was sacred.”
Cordelia and her mother traded glances. Neither woman was about to tell the earl that his wife and daughters—especially this daughter—had always managed to wrap him around their little fingers. Still, in the past, Cordelia had always been allied with her mother. Now it appeared her parents were united.
“Very well.” Father heaved a long suffering sigh. “I assume you will agree to that much?”
“Yes, of course.” Cordelia nodded with relief. “I would be more than happy to write to Mr. Sinclair. Although”—she glanced at her mother—“wouldn’t it be proper for him to write to me first?”
“Under other circumstances, I would agree. However as Mr. Sinclair is an American, I imagine he would appreciate a certain forthright attitude in a potential wife.”
“I can certainly be forthright,” Cordelia murmured.
Writing to this Daniel Sinclair would at least give her time to figure a way out of this encouraged match. Still, she couldn’t formulate any kind of plan until she knew, well, not precisely the enemy but the opposition. Writing to him would be a step in that direction but would take entirely too long. No, she was not about to be coerced into marriage through inaction. She had todo something. She needed a brilliant plan, a smashingly good idea. Nothing came to mind at the moment but she was confident it would. After all, as her father had said, she had a fine mind. And she fully intended to put it to good use.
“Explain to me again why we are hiding in a carriage outside a park gate at what even the most stalwart of souls would consider an ungodly time of morning.” Sarah stifled a yawn and glared at her friend.
“It’s part of the plan,” Cordelia said absently and continued to peer out the window at one of the many streets that ended, or perhaps started, depending on one’s point of view and direction, at the park. “I explained the plan quite thoroughly to you last evening.”
“Apparently I was not paying the proper amount of attention.”
“Probably not, as you were writing yet another letter to that mysterious suitor of yours,” Cordelia murmured.
“He’s neither a suitor nor mysterious. Simply an old friend with whom I correspond.” Sarah’s tone was cool as it always was when talk turned to this particular topic. Her secrecy was most annoying as it was probably the only secret she and Cordelia did not share.
Sarah Elizabeth
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