“Is that what this was about?” she said in a small voice. “My fortune?”
“Of course. Once you get your hands on that, you’ll be free to do what you want and I can go back to my workshop. I’ve left my brother to keep an eye on it, but I’d not like to leave it for too long, for all that. So you get on with finding what’s yours, you hear?”
They returned to the hotel in silence, Tess striding ahead, Edward in her wake and Harold marching some little way behind. Edward had ordered dinner to be served in a private parlour with their own servants attending them, but even so, nothing at all was said beyond the practical. Eventually, the meal was cleared away and the servants disappeared to their own quarters. Edward poured himself a brandy and waited.
Yet still she said nothing, sitting sunk in thought at the table, nursing the half glass of wine he had poured for her an hour before.
Someone had to saysomethingabout Tom Shapman. “He will go on more comfortably now, I trust. I paid those men to ensure he has a cell to himself, with a mattress and blankets, no rats and decent food. Or as decent as it can be, in a place like that.”
A sigh, and then she pushed the glass away. “I have to go to Pickering,” she said, as if he had said nothing.
“This house of yours?” She nodded. “But you cannot get in. No one can enter without the permission of the trustees, or the tenant.”
She fell silent again.
“Tess, whatisthis fortune that you expect to find at the Pickering house? Whatever it is, it is part of your dowry and therefore is not truly yours. Your trustees will control it until you marry and then it will be your husband’s.”
Again she said nothing.
He sipped his brandy and waited again, but she seemed to have nothing further to say. Well then, he would say his piece and give her something to think about.
“It seems to me,” he said slowly, “that you have to make a major decision, one that will affect your whole life, and perhaps you are torn. Perhaps the options seem limited. Certainly your family is no help, but then I cannot imagine you would accept any advice they offered.” That brought a wan smile. “I shall not offer you advice, either, since I believe you are perfectly capable of making a rational decision by yourself. You have to decide who to marry… well, I suppose, if we are to be entirely logical about this, there is always the option not to marry at all, but then you have nothing — no fortune, nothing. So let us suppose you must marry. At the moment, you have but three choices.One, you could marry Tom Shapman, who is a fine figure of a man, I grant you that, but not your class, not educated, not the cleverest of men, since he presently resides in York Gaol on a hanging charge. But let us suppose he can be extricated from his predicament and you marry him, you would find yourself with no fortune, no chess in the evening, no conversation over dinner. Where would you live? Have you thought about that? In his workshop?”
“In a cottage in the village,” she said, her eyes flashing. “He could still have his workshop, if he wants it, and do the work he loves.”
“A cottage,” Edward said thoughtfully. “So… a parlour and a kitchen downstairs, and two bedrooms upstairs, one for Mr and Mrs Tom Shapman, and one for all the little Shapmans. The maid of all work will sleep on the kitchen floor, I suppose.”
“Notthatsort of cottage,” she said smiling.
“Oh, a cottage with a drawing room and a dining room large enough to seat twenty-four, I suppose. How many footmen will a woodworker’s wage pay for? Grooms? Horses? A lady’s maid, perhaps? How many gowns a year do you think he can buy you?”
“I hope I shall have enough money to pay for such an establishment myself.”
“Ah, so you will be the great lady, and he will still be the village woodworker, except living on his wife’s money. That will gratify him, I am sure. He will be the envy of all his friends.”
She frowned at him. “What are the other two choices?”
“Number two is to marry Ulric. You would have your fortune, and although it will be technically Ulric’s, if you can keep him docile, and keep his mother from persuading him to make it all over to her, you will have full control of it. You can leave Ulric at Myercroft with his beloved horses while you do… well, whatever you want. But you would still have no one to play chess withand no conversation over dinner.” He hesitated only a moment. “Or…”
“Yes?”
“Or you could marry me.” There! He had said it, and now let the dice fall however they will.
“You?Why would I marry you?”
That was not the reaction he had expected. “For the obvious reasons — fortune, chess, conversation,” he said sharply. “I am assuming that such trivia as my title, income and standing in society hold no attractions for you.”
“Certainly not! Nothing about you holds any attraction for me.”
The sudden pain took him entirely by surprise. Did he care so much for her good opinion? Apparently he did. “Hmm. That is certainly comprehensive, but bear in mind that you could marry me tomorrow, or at least as soon as the banns could be read. Your mother would be delighted with the match. Did you know she almost became Lady Tarvin herself at one time? So she could have no possible objections, and you would have your fortune immediately, including this house of yours.”
“No,youwould have my fortune,” she spat. “Do you think I am stupid? That I would take one look at you, and roll over instantly? Oh, look, a baron with a fancy house — naturally I must marry him immediately! Pah! You are just trying to get my fortune for yourself. I love Tom Shapman, Edward, and I intend to marry him, whether you like it or not. All I have to do is get my hands on my fortune.”
“Then I wish you joy of your cottage,” he said angrily. Fool of a woman! What did he have to do to make her see sense? And why exactly did he care, anyway?
***
Edward waited until Tess had retired to bed, then took a bottle of wine and two glasses, and made his way back to the gaol. It took considerably more coins this time, but before too long he was sitting opposite Tom Shapman again in the drab little room.
