feelings against the French is for children. He will provide for you much better than I shall be able to. You know that my property must go to Morton when I die,” Sir Henrytold her evenly.
“I mean to refuse him if he offers.” She studied the white knuckles of her clenched hands.
“That would be most foolhardy. It saddens me greatly to think you so short-sighted.”
“Uncle, I know you wish me happy. Please do not insist upon this marriage,” Elizabeth softly pleaded.
Studying his niece closely, Sir Henry debated what to do. He did wish for her happiness but firmly believed a financially secure marriage would achieve it. “Could we not arrange a period of courtship before, you decide so irrevocably?” he offered.
“You have known the comte for so short a time. If you dealt together for a longer space, you might come to see that he has many amenable qualities,” Sir Henry said more hopefully, unwilling to let the match slip out of her hands.
“If... if I would agree to this... this courtship, with a set time, and if at the end of the period I still found the idea of attachment with Lord Cavilon... distasteful, would you agree I need not marry him?” she questioned.
“But of course, my dear.” Sir Henry rose with a sigh of relief. Drawing Elizabeth to her feet, he brushed her cheek with a kiss. “You are of age, my dear. No one can force you, nor do we wish to.
“Now take that dire look off your face.” He pinched her cheek. “Why don’t you take Spense and go shopping or whatever it is you women do to cheer up. I shall arrange the matter with Comtede Cavilon,” he told her and led her to the door. “It shall be for the best.”
* * * *
I can’t blame Elizabeth for her hesitancy, Sir Henry thought as he stared at the figure in sky-blue satin seated before him. Shan’t like to be tied to the likes of him. He noted Cavilon’s whitish cheeks and lightly rouged lips. Never did care for popinjays who powder their faces . Wonder what sort of man he is behind all that folderol.
Doubt crept into Sir Henry’s thoughts. He resolutely pushed it aside. His niece must be cared for, and a husband was the only proper way to assure her future. ‘Tis unfortunate the comte is the only one to have ever reached the stage of actually offering for her hand. He smiled. The fact that Cavilon had dealt with Elizabeth and still offered for her showed a degree of determination could not be scoffed at.
Beneath the older man’s smile Cavilon sensed an inner unease. This proposal made perfect sense last eve in the midst of battling with Miss Jeffries, but it had lost relevancy in the harsh light of morn. He crossed his legs and drew a lace scarf from his heavily embroidered waistcoat.
“What may I do for you?” Sir Henry began the interview.
“It is such a... delicate matter.” The comte fluttered the scarf nervously. “And I but so recently come to your acquaintance. I fear you shall think me too bold in what I wish to say.”
“Let me assure you your fears are groundless.” Sir Henry cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on his desk top. “I believe you mean to speak of my niece, Miss Jeffries,” he forced the point.
“Ah, Miss Jeffries. The most beautiful mademoiselle I have ever beheld.” Cavilon clasped his hands to his heart. “She has stolen my affections. I think only of her.” He sniffed daintily.
“Of course, Sir Henry, you as a man realize that one cannot permit such a condition to be unattended. It interferes so with important matters. Therefore I have decided it would be best to wed Miss Elizabeth.
“One’s wife never... Well, one’s wife is simply one’s wife.” He fluttered his scarf. “I am prepared to settle a handsome amount upon Elizabeth when we marry. Would ten thousand pounds be agreeable?” he asked with an air of boredom, in reality studying Sir Jeffries keenly from behind his drooping eyelids.
The sum named was outrageously generous. Sir Henry smiled and chose
“I mean to refuse him if he offers.” She studied the white knuckles of her clenched hands.
“That would be most foolhardy. It saddens me greatly to think you so short-sighted.”
“Uncle, I know you wish me happy. Please do not insist upon this marriage,” Elizabeth softly pleaded.
Studying his niece closely, Sir Henry debated what to do. He did wish for her happiness but firmly believed a financially secure marriage would achieve it. “Could we not arrange a period of courtship before, you decide so irrevocably?” he offered.
“You have known the comte for so short a time. If you dealt together for a longer space, you might come to see that he has many amenable qualities,” Sir Henry said more hopefully, unwilling to let the match slip out of her hands.
“If... if I would agree to this... this courtship, with a set time, and if at the end of the period I still found the idea of attachment with Lord Cavilon... distasteful, would you agree I need not marry him?” she questioned.
“But of course, my dear.” Sir Henry rose with a sigh of relief. Drawing Elizabeth to her feet, he brushed her cheek with a kiss. “You are of age, my dear. No one can force you, nor do we wish to.
“Now take that dire look off your face.” He pinched her cheek. “Why don’t you take Spense and go shopping or whatever it is you women do to cheer up. I shall arrange the matter with Comtede Cavilon,” he told her and led her to the door. “It shall be for the best.”
* * * *
I can’t blame Elizabeth for her hesitancy, Sir Henry thought as he stared at the figure in sky-blue satin seated before him. Shan’t like to be tied to the likes of him. He noted Cavilon’s whitish cheeks and lightly rouged lips. Never did care for popinjays who powder their faces . Wonder what sort of man he is behind all that folderol.
Doubt crept into Sir Henry’s thoughts. He resolutely pushed it aside. His niece must be cared for, and a husband was the only proper way to assure her future. ‘Tis unfortunate the comte is the only one to have ever reached the stage of actually offering for her hand. He smiled. The fact that Cavilon had dealt with Elizabeth and still offered for her showed a degree of determination could not be scoffed at.
Beneath the older man’s smile Cavilon sensed an inner unease. This proposal made perfect sense last eve in the midst of battling with Miss Jeffries, but it had lost relevancy in the harsh light of morn. He crossed his legs and drew a lace scarf from his heavily embroidered waistcoat.
“What may I do for you?” Sir Henry began the interview.
“It is such a... delicate matter.” The comte fluttered the scarf nervously. “And I but so recently come to your acquaintance. I fear you shall think me too bold in what I wish to say.”
“Let me assure you your fears are groundless.” Sir Henry cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on his desk top. “I believe you mean to speak of my niece, Miss Jeffries,” he forced the point.
“Ah, Miss Jeffries. The most beautiful mademoiselle I have ever beheld.” Cavilon clasped his hands to his heart. “She has stolen my affections. I think only of her.” He sniffed daintily.
“Of course, Sir Henry, you as a man realize that one cannot permit such a condition to be unattended. It interferes so with important matters. Therefore I have decided it would be best to wed Miss Elizabeth.
“One’s wife never... Well, one’s wife is simply one’s wife.” He fluttered his scarf. “I am prepared to settle a handsome amount upon Elizabeth when we marry. Would ten thousand pounds be agreeable?” he asked with an air of boredom, in reality studying Sir Jeffries keenly from behind his drooping eyelids.
The sum named was outrageously generous. Sir Henry smiled and chose
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