“I met Mrs. Dudding in Union Street a few days ago. She told me that her eldest son is now wed. The remaining three are still amenable to a match with you, should one bedesired.”
Ophelia’s chest tightened. “I have no wish to marry aDudding.”
“You could do worse.” Her aunt gave her an encouraging smile. “You would be well treated. Have a lovely home of your own. The Duddings are respected inAberdeen.”
“They areEnglish.”
“So is half Aberdeen, if notmore.”
Ophelia stiffened. “The Duddings do not likeanimals.”
“You could surely persuade a perspective groom to allow you a pet.” Aunt Sarah made it sound so easy. “I could even help you, would speak to Mrs.Dudding.”
I will not pretend passion.Ophelia shuddered at thenotion.
“There is more,” she said aloud. “They sniff at the old beliefs of Scots and laugh outright at the mention of ghosts. I would be made fun of all my days for I shall not abandon or hide myinterests.”
“Will you not even considerit?”
“No.” Ophelia shuddered. “My life would be so dull that my heart would wither. My soul would weep…” She let the words tail off, not wanting to voice her horror at imagining herself trapped in such amarriage.
I wouldsuffocate.
“Well, then.” Her aunt took her hands, squeezing them lightly as if she’d heard the silent words and wished to comfort her. “We do have anotherpossibility.”
“Employment.” Ophelia turned back to the window, dread racing through her. “I am sure I can findsomething.”
It shouldn’t be difficult. I can teach herb lore and ancient tradition, rattle on about the distinguishing differences between gray, green, and pink lady ghosts, or share the castles most prone to have spectral pipers prowling the ramparts afterdark.
I can evencook.
But I could not stitch a straight seam if someone held a dagger to mythroat.
Nor can I be around children because they only remind me of the bairn Ilost.
“You needn’t trouble yourself. Though…” Her aunt made a gesture at the room’s modest furnishings, and – the only luxury – a tiny coal-burning brazier for warmth. “I do not think you belonghere.”
“Wherethen?”
“Perhaps a place more suited to yourwishes?”
Ophelia blinked, for a terrible moment wondering if her aunt somehow knew she’d thought of the rogue’s kiss as she climbed thestairs?
“What do you know of mywishes?”
Aunt Sarah gave her a fond look. “It’s no secret you’d love to spend your days searching the streets for stray animals and then pass your nights creeping about every corner of the city said to behaunted.”
“Is that wrong?” Ophelia didn’t think so. “A man can do what he wants. Why can’tI?”
“Because you are a woman,” her aunt reminded her. “It is a man’s world and ever shallbe.”
“Not if women refuse to beyoked.”
“There are other ways to achieve one’s goals. I believe my second option will please you. It will certainly allow you to fulfil a few of yourdreams.”
“How?”
“Through seatravel.”
