But not Christopher. For one, they were not in that desperate a position and for another, he did not wish to trade in his future happiness for wealth. No. He’d intended to rebuild his own fortunes, buy back his London House, and then search for a wife. For the right wife. At least, that had been the plan. Until he’d laid eyes upon Lady Rowena.
The moment he saw her, he knew that his search was over before it had ever begun.
Chapter 6
Rowena watched as her friend bit into a large piece of marzipan with such vigor it crumbled and fell into her lap.
“I am a clodhopper sometimes. You simply cannot take me anywhere,” Betsy laughed while Rowena sat beside her, smiling now. She was holding a piece of marzipan on a handkerchief in her own hand but hadn’t dared to bite into it. Whenever she was about to allow herself some sweets, she’d hear her mother’s voice inside her mind. Warnings of what it might do to her figure, how it might ruin her looks.
And she could not afford any missteps right now. Not on the day before she was to meet her future husband. Again.
“This is delicious,” Betsy declared. “Have some, it will cheer you. I promise you!”
Rowena raised the sweet to her mouth and took a nibble, causing her friend to chuckle into her handkerchief.
“You are always quite the lady, Rowena.”
She sighed. “It is what I was raised to be. Perfection at all times.”
Suddenly her friend’s smile waned, and her eyes narrowed.
“I am concerned for you. You have been quite melancholy ever since you were told of your impending betrothal. And the fainting spell–”
“It was nothing,” Rowena protested. “The physician said it was only the excitement at my impending wedding. No cause for alarm at all.”
Betsy pressed her lips into a fine line and tilted her head to the side while examining her friend.
“Please, do not pretend with me.”
“Whatever do you mean? I do not pretend. And I am not melancholy. All is as it should be. Catherine is finally able to have her ball, Mama is as happy as can be, and Papa seems relieved as well.”
Betsy wrapped the remains of her sweet into the handkerchief and carefully tucked it into the pocket of her cape.
“As usual I hear you speak only of the happiness of others, of their needs and wants. But what of yours? And do not tell me that you are content. I have known you since we were children. I know when you withhold the truth.”
Rowena sighed heavily and looked out over the vast green space which spread out ahead of her. It was early still, and the park was filled with children brought out to play by their governesses who huddled together on the benches surrounding the green, chatting and laughing. Off in the distance, she spotted a young couple, walking along the lake with a woman, a chaperone no doubt, following at a discrete distance.
That shall be me soon enough. Lord Thornmouth and me.
She felt Betsy’s cold hand on her wrist and turned to look into her friend’s concerned face.
“He may turn out to be a good man. He might turn out to be all you’ve ever wanted. More even.”
She shook her head. “Oh Betsy, it does not matter at all. I must do what I am expected to do. I had only hoped…” she shook her head and waved a hand, dismissing the thought, “never mind. All is as it should be. I will meet him, wed him, and have an heir. And that will be my duty fulfilled.”
Betsy shook her head. “Sometimes I do not envy you at all, Rowena.”
“Sometimes?” Rowena asked.
“I suppose, despite my circumstances, I have more freedom than you. At least I shall have a choice in life, and I am not expected to wed and produce an heir. I can choose to remain alone, become a spinster, rather than wed a man I do not care for.”
Rowena nodded, “We each carry a burden.” She paused and glanced at her friend. She’d been so occupied with her own worries that she’d not considered to ask her friend how her search for a position was going. To be sure, her mother would not send Betsy away, but she knew that the time had come for Betsy to begin her future. For the past few years, she’d served as a companion to Catherine, but with her out and in search for a husband, Betsy’s services were no longer needed.
“How are your morning calls with Mama? Have you found a prospective position?”
Betsy smiled but looked away.
“You have, haven’t you? Where? Why have you not told me?”
