But still she volunteered nothing more.
“Maggie…”
“James, darling, while I’ve longed to have you show some interest in a specific lady, I have to say, I don’t believe Mrs. Eames is the woman for you.”
What? Why not? James bit his tongue to stave off that line of questioning. But the very idea that the woman who’d been working for years to see him married off would say such a thing baffled him.
“Purge the thought from your mind, Maggie. I have no intention of courting Mrs. Eames.”
“Then why all the questions?”
“She merely said something to me about her circumstances, rousing my curiosity,” he told her with a deliberately casual shrug.
“Hers is a curious case, I’ll admit,” she said. “Her husband left a substantial fortune when he died. Inheritance from his mother’s side of the family. I know that isn’t unusual in itself. Many widows are often named as beneficiaries to their husband’s fortunes. But he also named Mrs. Eames sole trustee and guardian to her young children’s portions. Not his father.”
That came as a surprise to him. Given the way she’d spoken, he hadn’t imagined she might have control of anything. Especially her own finances.
“Children?”
“One of the reasons I don’t believe you’d get on well together.”
“I like children,” he said defensively.
“I know. And I do believe that one day you’ll be an excellent father. However, I’m not sure if I can see you jumping right into the thick of things, as it were.”
“How many does she have?”
“Three, I believe.”
“That many?”
Maggie laughed. “It’s not so many as some.”
While it wasn’t a high number compared to the years she’d been wed, the number seemed astronomical to a childless bachelor like James in that moment. Either her husband had kept her busy or Mrs. Eames was more the passionate sort than he’d given her credit for. He wasn’t sure which of the two he cared to contemplate.
James sipped his drink and stared into the fire, the darkest part at the base of the flames reminding him of Prim’s eyes. “Just out of curiosity, and only out of curiosity, why do you think she’s not the one for me?”
“To start, she’d never have you,” Maggie told him.
James nearly spit out his drink, stiffening in his chair. “Why ever not?”
Maggie laughed again, clearly enjoying herself now. “She’s been burdened by autocratic men her entire life. There’s no chance she’d invite another in.”
What a thing to say. Like any man, he liked things to go his way, but he wasn’t tyrannical about it.
“Know her that well, do you?”
“We’ve talked,” she allowed. “She’s not as reserved and retiring as she might let on. She’s just gotten herself into an unenviable position.”
Aye, he knew about that. “She’s a suffragette, you know.”
“And what’s wrong with that, dear?” she asked, unsurprised by the revelation. “Do you expect all women to bow down to the whims of men and not stand up for their rights?”
Apparently, he was good at ruffling female feathers of all sorts tonight.
“Gads, no, Maggie. You know I would never dream of thinking a woman inferior to a man in any way. I haven’t encountered one, you and your daughters included, who isn’t willing to stand up for herself. To the last, they’re bold as brass, rulers of their particular roosts. I can’t say I think Mrs. Eames is much different, despite her current circumstances.
“But for all that, I’ve never known a woman to be much interested in politics. They’ve rarely uttered a single word on the matter.”
