“Insufferable?”
“Indeed.”
Her hand took to clenching again. “Why would they think that?”
“I imagine it was a result of the teachers at Sherwood Academy encouraging the student body to strive to emulate your behavior. One lady at that dinner I mentioned even remarked to me that if you hadn’t been born into a Knickerbocker family, you’d have been highly successful as a headmistress of a finishing school because your grasp of the rules rivaled that of Miss Sherwood, and your appearance...” Elbert abruptly stopped speaking, grabbed his teacup, and took a hefty swig.
Drusilla leaned forward. “Were you about to tell me that this lady thought my appearance suited that of a headmistress?”
Instead of immediately denying what any lady would have taken as a grave insult, Elbert winced instead. “She may have mentioned something to that effect.”
Drusilla snatched up the remains of her cucumber sandwich, nibbled her way through half of it, returned it to the plate, then made a prolonged process of blotting her lips with her napkin as she strove to contain emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
She’d truly had no idea that ladies within society spent their time making sport of her, and that they mocked what she considered her only credible achievement—that being possessed of impeccable manners—was hurtful to say the least.
She’d always known she wasn’t a lady who’d ever take the Four Hundred by storm, or be deemed an Incomparable, not when she wasn’t in possession of any great beauty, being merely “elegantly reserved,” as her mother always put it.
Elegantly reservedsimply meant she wasn’t completely unattractive, but possessing a face that was less than riveting certainly didn’t leave her standing out in a crowd, although people did compliment her on her blue eyes, which were evidently her greatest physical attribute. However, if possessing a less-than-beautiful face wasn’t bad enough, she’d also been born with ordinary brown hair. And her shape, as Elbert had so kindly mentioned, wasn’t slender, although she really didn’t think she’d go so far as to call herself plump—more along the lines of unfashionably proportioned.
It was rather disheartening to learn that ladies she’d thought of as friends had been suggesting behind her back—and to her fiancé, no less—that not only would she be perfectly suited to running a ladies’ academy, but that she also already looked the part of a headmistress, which in no way could be taken as a compliment.
“Not that I want to cut our luncheon short, Drusilla, but I have a pressing engagement soon,” Elbert said, dragging herfrom her thoughts. “Shall we agree here and now that we’re not well suited but intend to remain the closest of friends, and that you’ll break the news to society in order to spare yourself any repercussions from the dissolution of our alliance?”
Drusilla’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know if we’ve ever been what I would consider friends, Elbert, and in all honesty, I’m still a little mystified as to exactly why you no longer care to marry me.”
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“You do, unless those deficiencies you just pointed out weren’t brought to my attention because you fear others will pounce on them, but because those attributes of mine annoy you.” She tilted her head. “If that’s the case, it seems I’m being cast aside because I’m too plump, too prim, and too proper.”
Elbert leaned forward, his gaze for once squarely focused on her. “My dear, my decision is not because you’re too plump, prim, or proper—but because you’re now all but penniless, or to put it bluntly ... far too poor.”
Two
It was next to impossible to wrap her mind around the idea that Elbert had just called herpoor, an obscene word within society if there ever was one, even if he wasn’t exactly off the mark.
Drawing in a deep breath in the hopes of staving off the sense of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her, given that the repercussions of having her engagement nullified were beginning to sink in, Drusilla lifted her chin and met Elbert’s gaze. “Am I wrong in concluding that your desire to end our engagement revolves around my dowry?”
“You no longer have a dowry.”
“Through no fault of my own.”
“I never said it was your fault,” Elbert argued. “If anyone was to blame, it was your late father because he left the managing of the Merriweather fortune and assets to Mr. Sanford Duncan.”
“Sanford was Father’s trusted solicitor, as well as best friend,” Drusilla countered.
“Sanford was anything but a friend to your father or family as he not only absconded with the Merriweather millions but also ran up outrageous debts he claimed were on behalf of your mother, telling a variety of vendors that the purchaseswere only made on credit because Merriweather finances were tied up in probate.”
“I’m well aware of that, Elbert,” Drusilla returned. “I’m also aware that the Pinkertons think Sanford ran up debts as some type of personal vendetta, given that he purchased an outrageously expensive yacht in Mother’s name. With that said, though, I would have thought that you of all people would have had at least a few suspicions about what Sanford was doing before he disappeared, given that Father was intending to bring you on in some business capacity after we wed.”
Elbert’s brow furrowed. “To be more specific, your father was going to groom me to take over the company for him someday. However, since he didn’t put that in writing, and as we weren’t wed when he died, I had no legal standing to demand Sanford include me in any Merriweather ventures—something that would have only changed after we exchanged vows. It was hardly my fault that your mother decided a few months after your father died that we needed to delay our wedding until she was finished with her two-year mourning period.”
“It wasn’t exactly an unreasonable request since she had lost her husband of over twenty years and needed something to look forward to.”
“Except that your mother’s request gave Sanford the extra time he needed to put his diabolical plan into motion,” Elbert pointed out. “And, before you ask, know that I did consider pressing the matter of becoming involved with Merriweather ventures at one point. However, my solicitor thought that would be a horrible idea.”
She quirked a brow. “Because?”
He quirked a brow right back at her. “Come now, Drusilla. Given your father’s unexpected death, you must realize that my solicitor and I discussed every possible scenario, including what would happen if you came to an untimely end before we were wed. Can you honestly say that were I already involved inMerriweather matters and you suddenly passed away, that your mother wouldn’t see that as an opportunity to get your sister, Annaliese, married off to the man who was already managing Merriweather business ventures?”
