Something in her expression shifted, a spark of emotion I could not identify. She stared at me so intently, I believed she could see straight into my soul. All my vulnerabilities lay at her feet, but I did not shy away. Because allowing Annette to see me genuinely—fully—was empowering in a way I never imagined.
“No, you are not,” she whispered. “You are far from selfish, Edward Paget. I admire your convictions, and I would very much like to help. My father and I had an agreement, you see. If I did not wed by the Season’s end, he would grant me the sum of my dowry as an inheritance. I can use it to forge a life for myself. Freedom is a topic very close to my heart, and I would very much like to support your cause. Financially.”
Chapter seventeen
Annette
Edward’seyeswidened,andhis jaw hung slack. My vow of support had clearly shocked him, and his reaction brought a full smile to my lips. “Do not be so surprised. Can a woman not put her money into causes she believes in?”
“No—that is, of course, she can. I simply…I did not expect…” He averted his gaze, but I did not miss the tear he swiped from his eye. Months ago, I never would have guessed the lieutenant held such deep convictions, nor would I have believed him to be passionate about a topic I myself was. I could not claim to be a stark abolitionist like him or my father, but I strongly opposed any situation where one person enslaved another.
And slavery does not always mean physical chains.
Realizing my hand still held his, I pulled away and settled mine in my lap. “As you said, people deserve freedom. I wish to help anyone who feels powerless and oppressed. My father believes you will do a fine job fighting for that very thing. I believe it, too.”
He looked at me again, his dark eyes sweeping over my face, searching. “You truly believe so?”
I shrugged, resisting the urge to shift under his scrutiny. Something about the way Edward looked at me set my heart to racing. That had always been the case, but lately, his unabashed studying held more meaning. This was not his typical open appreciation, but something else entirely. A raw adoration that caused flutters in my stomach.
“Of course,” I said finally, “I would want a say in how the money is spent were I to offer that kind of support. England needs more reform than you realize. Abolition is certainly important, but there are other forms of slavery—others steeped in tradition.”
His brows furrowed. “I’m afraid I do not follow.”
I looked away, regretting my words. For a moment, I had seen in Edward an ally for change, but how was I to convince him—or any man, for that matter—that women were often just as oppressed by their husbands as slaves were by their masters? Margaret was a prime example of how controlling a man could be of his wife. She had little to no freedom, and according to the law, she could do nothing about her suffering. Nothing to free herself. She belonged to Mr. Wilcot, and there was no course for her to escape him.
I stood from the bench. “It is of no importance. Just know that once I receive my inheritance, I will do what I can to help you. Not just with Adda and Hollinsby, but with reform. We may not sit in Parliament, but we can still influence change. I think the pair of us could make a brilliant team given our convictions align.”
“A team?” His gaze settled on me, but his focus seemed entirely lost, as if he were deep in thought.
“Yes. We can work toward change together, you and I.” This affirmation did not pull him from his thoughts. I stood in silence for several minutes before making a second attempt. “Would you consider it, Edward? I truly mean what I said. I wish to help, and I think together we could make a difference.”
He met my gaze and nodded. “I will consider it.”
I dipped my head. “Then I will leave you to it.”
After another nod, he fell back into pensiveness. I retreated quietly to give him time to himself. My proposition was much to consider, and while I had not given it the proper consideration myself, I felt no regret in it.
Since I would not have a busy life raising children and running some grand estate, such support and involvement in a cause would provide me with something life-fulfilling. The thought dulled the ache for more, however minutely, and my resolve hardened. It was time I requested that money from Father. For myself and for Edward.
Itwasnotuntilthe following morning that the opportunity to speak with Father became available to me. Yesterday, he had experienced a fit of coughs so bad that the doctor had been called. The spell had sapped Father of energy, and according to Mother, he had slept the majority of the afternoon and evening. Even now, as I crossed the room to him, his pale face and sagging skin filled me with dread. He was not well, and if the doctor was to be believed, he never would be. It was a hard thing to accept.
“My dear Annette,” he said as I took my seat, his smile deepening the wrinkles around his eyes. He held out his hand, and when I set mine within it, his other hand settled on top. How long would I have this privilege of sitting at his side, feeling secure and comforted by his hold? A hollowness filled my chest, and emotion tightened my throat.
“It is good to see you,” he said, “but where is that smile I have missed?”
My lips lifted at his words, offering it to him readily.
“There it is.” He smiled back, his eyes twinkling. “Now, tell me what it is you’ve been up to as of late? Your mother says you’ve spent a great deal of time away from the castle. I hope you have not been avoiding our guest.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “It seems the more I try to evade Lieutenant Paget, the less I succeed.”
“Then perhaps you ought not try so hard.”
“Then perhaps the man ought not irk me so.”
Father chuckled, and even that mild amusement summoned a spell of coughing. I quickly stood and crossed the room to get the pitcher of water on the nearby desk. I returned with a filled glass, and he drank deeply from it, emptying it by half.
“Thank you,” he wheezed, handing the cup back to me.
