Bending down, he picked up the piece of paper at his feet and crumpled it before tossing the offending note, rather forcefully, into the flames.
“That note contained bad news, I presume?” she asked as he began picking up the larger fragments of glass.
Turning to look at her as she spoke, West lost his balance from his precariously perched position. Setting his hand down for stability, he inhaled sharply as a shard of glass on the floor cut into his palm.
“Oh, West! I’m so sorry.” Priscilla rushed forward and grabbed his hand to examine the damage as he stood. The wound didn’t look too deep, but it was bleeding and needed tending to. She pulled a handkerchief from the pocket beneath her gown and wrapped it around his hand while directing him to sit in his desk chair. Crouching before him, she put pressure on the injured appendage.
“Clench your fist so you’ll keep pressure on the wound,” Priscilla instructed. “I’m going to find someone to clean up this mess and locate a medical kit. Don’t move.” West looked at her blankly, not speaking, and she worried about his state of mind. Glancing back as she hurried out of the room, she noticed he had slumped forward and was holding his head with his good hand, arm bent and elbow resting on his knee. He looked so despondent her heart ached.
Rushing down to the lower level of the house, Priscilla found the housekeeper, who gave her a medical basket and informed her she would send a footman to clean up the glass right away.
When she returned to the study, footman in tow, though she’d not been gone long—surely no more than ten minutes, shediscovered West in the same hunched position he’d assumed when she left. As she walked over, he looked up at her but still didn’t speak. The footman wisely didn’t say anything as he quickly swept up the glass and wiped down the mantle, giving a bow before retreating.
“Alright, let me see that hand,” Priscilla said, leaning over West. He extended his arm, and she cleaned and wrapped his hand with a fresh cloth. Other than wincing a few times, West remained silent. Repacking the medical kit, she finally asked, “Do you want to tell me what that was all about now?”
“I’m ruined,” he said softly, staring at the ground.
“What do you meanruined?” she asked, worried about the implications of such a statement.
He remained quiet for a minute, then drawing in a deep breath, he began to explain. “The reason I’ve been so anxious is because I was waiting for word on the arrival of a ship carrying our cargo investment. John and I were relying on the capital from that initial investment for everything else—the estate, the school, investing in the railway . . .” West trailed off and scrubbed his hands over his face, still hunched over. Sitting up abruptly, he bluntly said, “The ship sank.”
It took a moment for Priscilla to fully understand the significance of his statement. But she could feel the magnitude of it, and how heavily this was weighing on West.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he said in a small voice.
“I do,” Priscilla said firmly, in a moment of sudden and utter clarity.
West looked up at her in surprise. “Well then, what is your solution? For I certainly don’t have one,” he said bitterly.
Taking in a deep breath, Priscilla stepped forward and grasped his uninjured hand. He gazed up at her, confusion clear on his face.
“You should marry me,” she said simply. West’s eyes widened almost comically, but he didn’t immediately respond. “It makes sense,” Priscilla continued, thinking out loud. “You know I’m wealthy after my marriage. Stern left me well cared for, knowing he would pass long before me. I have more than you’ll need for all your plans.” It made perfect sense.
“But we can’t, Priscilla,” West said, aghast. “We both agreed. You know I can’t marry you. And I certainly wouldn’t marry someone just for their money.” He held a look of disdain on his face as he almost spat his final sentence. “I’ve seen how those kinds of marriages go. Besides, you told me when this all began that you wouldn’t consider someone like me.”
He was looking at her incredulously, as if he’d never even for a moment considered what a future together might be like. It hurt.
“Why would you want to marry me just to provide me with money?” West’s brow was crinkled in his obvious confusion as he asked what he believed to be the pertinent question.
Dropping his hand, Priscilla turned away so he wouldn’t see the tear slipping down her cheek.
“Why?” he asked again from behind her.
It was more than she could take, the dam of everything she had been holding back bursting.
“Because I’m in love with you, you stupid man,” she blurted as she whirled around. Dashing at the wetness on her cheeks, she glared at him as he sat with his mouth agape. “I’ve fallen in love with you, West. This past month with you has been the happiest time of my life, the most real I’ve ever felt. So why won’t you get over your stubborn pride, admit you’ve developed feelings for me, too, and let me help you?”
Priscilla let her question hang in the air, chest heaving from the effort of trying to contain her frustration. West stood and walked to her, taking her hand in his.
“I won’t deny that I have strong feelings for you, but you know I can’t marry you,” he said gently. Shaking his head, he continued, “I won’t do it. I have to be my own man.”
Though Priscilla already knew this was how he felt, she staggered back, crushed by the impact of his words. She’d fully understood for the first time this morning how deep his wound dwelled and knew it would take a miracle for him to change his perspective when it came to his father. But hearing him say it so plainly felt like he had put a dagger in her heart.
“But you aren’t your own man, West,” she said, realizing the time for hard truths was now upon them and not wanting to waste the moment. “You can’t see it, but your father is still dictating everything you do.”
His head snapped up at her statement, eyes boring into hers. “What are you talking about? I’m not doing anything in the way he would have wanted.”
Priscilla could see that he truly didn’t understand, his defensive tone underscoring his disbelief. Well, she’d lay it out for him then.
