Beth shrugs as she fiddles with her gloves. “There were a few spots on our lands that would have been perfect, but Father was never home long enough to see it commissioned. I’d still like to do it someday,” she continues, thinking of that dappled little clearing with the enormous oak tree. “Of course, they’re not my lands anymore.”
“We could do it on mine,” Lord Montson says.
Beth looks up at him, surprised. “Oh?”
“I can think of a few good spots. Would be nice for the children.”
That makes her chest tighten and Beth forces a smile. She’s not sure at all that she wants his children, nor that she wants her fabled tree house on his lands. Never her lands. She won’thave her own lands after this at all, even if they do marry. Even if he comes into a thousand acres, they won’t be hers.
Just then, Mother and Lady Ashmond catch up to them. Beth curtsies as Lady Ashmond makes their apologies. Lord Ashmond has a dinner for some of the sitting Lords, and they must get back.
“So much fuss about this silly Matrimonial Causes Act,” Lady Ashmond says to Mother. “As if we need to change the whole shape of marriage.”
“Mother,” Lord Montson admonishes.
Beth remembers Mother mentioning how in favor she is of the act. Yet another thing they’ll have to hide from the earl, along with the dire state of their fortune, and her own intense dislike of herring.
“I’d much rather walk another few miles with you,” Lord Montson tells Beth.
Beth smiles, and it almost doesn’t feel forced. She accepts his kiss to her hand and then watches as he takes his leave, bowing to her mother before escorting his own away.
“That went well,” Mother says as she steps up to take Beth’s arm.
Beth leans into her and they head in the opposite direction. “Did it?” she wonders.
“He looked genuinely regretful of leaving you,” Mother replies.
Beth shrugs. She thinks her company is certainly better than most of the Lords’, at least the ones who used to visit Father in the country. They weren’t in favor of the act either, if she remembers. None of them seemed to think a woman might have any reason to leave a marriage unless she was being beatenbloody, and therefore they saw no reason to remove arbitration from the church’s clutches.
“Do you think if the Matrimonial Act had been passed you might have—”
“The viscount seems a lovely young gentleman. Tell me, what did you discuss?”
Beth purses her lips as Mother stares straight ahead, walking just a bit faster than before. Heaven forbid they talk of anything but Lord Montson.
“He’s nice,” Beth allows.
“He seems far more than nice,” Mother says, prompting her with a little nudge.
“He’s fine,” Beth says, a little louder than she means to. A few older mothers look their way and Beth blushes. “There’s nothing bad about him.”
“A glowing review.”
“I don’t know, Mother,” Beth clips back, frustrated by her own disinterest.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Lord Montson. And yet there’s just... nothing there. She feels empty, like she’s observing herself be courted from afar.
They walk silently for a long while, crossing most of the park. She’s coming to hate this place, even with the pink flowers blooming on the shrubs and the thick green of the leaves that throw intricate patterns onto the manicured grass. She wishes she could ride through their forest paths instead.
“Should it feel like more?” she asks, thinking of Lord Montson’s kind offer to build her the tree house she’s always wanted. How hollow it left her.
“More?”
“He’s perfectly lovely,” Beth admits. “Just . . . it’s only pleasant. Should it feel like more than that?”
“Pleasant is more than many women ever get,” Mother says immediately, before turning pensive.
“So I should be happy with my lot,” Beth deduces, swallowing against a rush of disappointment.
