Melanie pointed to her wrist with questioning eyes, and Josie knew what she was asking. “Two gentlemen have claimed sets with me. One of them is an earl!” Josie recovered her good spirits enough to toggle her eyebrows. “Lord Northwoods. The other is Mr. Huntington.”
“That’s good…” Melanie said, hating the heaviness she felt when she spoke. Otherwise, she’d ask her sister so many questions. She remembered being introduced to Mr. Huntington, a young and eager sort of gentleman, but knew little about this Northwoods fellow.
Was he handsome? Was he charming? Which of them did Josie prefer?
“I’ll see you downstairs, then…” Josie smiled weakly before quietly slipping out of the room, leaving Melanie alone in the fading light of her bedchamber.
An hour later,the three of them—Melanie, Josie, and their mother—sat at one end of the grand table. Their mother had ordered elaborate furnishings for the entire house following Reed’s inheritance, and the formal dining room was now an elegant testament to their new status. Intricate plaster moldings and heavy velvet drapes framed tall windows, and a gilded chandelier cast a warm, flickering light over the silver place settings. The food was served on delicate china plates, and the table, though capable of seating a dozen, felt almost cavernous with only the three of them gathered at its far end.
“Lord Northwoods would bequitethe catch, Josephine,” their mother declared, her tone bright and buoyant, cutting through the clink of utensils against porcelain.
“Oh, I know, Mama,” Josie said quickly, eagerness creeping into her voice. “It’s really… something, isn’t it?” She straightened in her chair, her cheeks pinking as she glanced toward her mother, clearly hoping for approval.
Their mother placed her fork down with a satisfied clink. “Something? It’s everything, my dear. A connection like this would all but ensure our family’s position in Society. My own son, of course, but then two daughters, married to earls. Can you imagine?”
Melanie watched her mother warily. She would have thought having a son who was an earl—and one daughter already married to the Earl of Helton—would have been enough to satisfy her mother’s ambitions. But it wasn’t. It never was.
Josie, meanwhile, leaned into their mother’s enthusiasm, her smile widening as she gave a small, nervous laugh. “I can hardly believe it.”
“Fill my glass, will you, Kenny?” her mother added briskly, waving a hand toward the footman, though her attention never left Josie.
“Yes, my lady,” Kenny replied, stepping forward to comply.
Their father, as the second son of an earl, could have gone through life as a lord—Lord Roland, to be precise. But he’d never claimed that status, choosing to work alongside those who worked his land as Mr. Rutherford.
And their mother had been perfectly content to be called Mrs. Rutherford, Mistress of Breaker’s Cottage—until the weeks following her husband’s death. “There will be less confusion if I’m addressed as Lady Roland,” she’d insisted only after she’d learned that, although Reed was now the Earl of Standish, the circumstances of his inheritance didn’t allow his mother to suddenly becomeLady Standish.
No one had argued.
And now,Lady Rolandtook every opportunity to manage her youngest daughter’s prospects, attending the best soirees and making friends with the most informative gossips.
Or trying to, anyway.
It seemed as though their mother would fill the emptiness left in the wake of her loss with all the benefits that had come with Reed’s title and status, something no one could blame her for.
“He is handsome, is he not?” Their mother wasn’t really asking.
“I suppose, Mother,” Josie said. “He isn’t bad-looking. You don’t think he’s too old?”
“Not really, darling, five and thirty, perhaps?”
“Or forty. He has a bald spot on the back of his head.”
“His hair is a little thin, perhaps. The lady he chooses to be his countess, however, shouldn’t be bothered by that. He seems a decent enough fellow, and pickings are slim this year.”
“Mr. Huntington has a very thick head of hair,” Josie said quietly, her head down. Melanie noticed a pink flush on her neck.
“He’s the third son of a baron, Josephine,” their mother pointed out.
Melanie scooped up a spoonful of pudding, listening to all the things Josie wasn’t saying.
It seemed obvious to Melanie that although Josie would have the approval of their mother, she much preferred the younger Mr. Huntington.
Their older sister Caroline had been fortunate to fall madly in love with a good man—one who was both titled and wealthy. But such a marriage was the exception, not the rule. Melanie wanted nothing less than that for Josie, who was too kind-hearted and naïve for anything less.
And poor, naïve Josie would likely do anything for their mother’s approval, a fact that troubled Melanie deeply. Their mother seemed blind to what Josie actually wanted—or needed—and Melanie feared her sister might sacrifice too much to please her. If Josie couldn’t make a love match, now that Reed was an earl, she’d do just as well to remain unmarried.
Melanie flicked a glance to the nearby empty chairs and forced herself to interject. “Write Reed,” she said, startling both of them. “Ask him.”
