“Sadie is growing into quite the young lady, but she still wades out with her brothers and sisters,” he said with a chuckle. “She always looks so startled when a wave catches her, and I cannot help but think of her mother in such circumstances, for she had the same expression.”
Marian nodded but had nothing to add—but then, Mr. Highmore didn’t pause long enough to allow anyone else an opportunity to speak as he waxed poetic about his family, sharing stories of their recent goings-on and memories of the past. In moderation, it was endearing, but the longer he spoke, the less Marian listened.
After a good quarter of an hour (in which he scarcely drew breath), Mr. Highmore rose to his feet and bade them farewell whilst doubly securing Marian’s presence at his family’s outing.
“Are you determined to frighten away every possible suitor?” Mama asked with a dainty frown.
With a huff, Marian shook her head. “Mr. Highmore hardly allowed me the opportunity to be inviting or aloof.”
Mama waved that protest away. “You give off the air of someone who does not wish to speak, and it chased him away. And he is such a lovely man. He is a good father and was an excellent husband. He would treat you well.”
“As the mother to his children, perhaps, but it was clear from his manner of speaking that he has no room in his heart for another Mrs. Highmore,” said Marian.
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Mama. “We are speaking of marriage, and he is an eligible man. Pitchford Place is a fine house. You would be comfortable.”
“I am comfortable where I am, Mama. There is no need for me to marry a man who is only pursuing me because he needs a mother for his children and a mistress for his estate.”
Mama frowned, her brows pulling low. “Don’t be a child, Marian. Not everyone marries for love.”
Heaven help her, but Marian couldn’t resist the urge to stick out her tongue. No one paid her any heed, so it was of no consequence, though it got its intended result from Mama, who shot to her feet, brushing down her skirts.
“If you are not going to be serious, I will not waste my breath,” she said, stiffening her spine as she glowered at her daughter. Turning on her heel, Mama started to walk away but paused, giving Marian one more look that held far too much pity for Marian’s peace of mind. “A love match is well and good, but do you desire to become a spinster? The joke of the neighborhood? I do not want to see you forced into such an unenviable position, Marian. Please, think of your future before you dismiss Mr. Highmore out of hand.”
And with that, Mama strode away, leaving Marian to wish the lady had remained silent. It was far easier to brush aside Mama’s ridiculousness when the lady’s dander was up, but when she spoke in such a pitying manner, it was hard to deflect the lady’s machinations. Turning to her sister-in-law, Marian pasted on a smile and picked at her food.
Chapter 6
“That was a tad much,” said Rachel with a narrowed look that held more than a touch of mirth. “I learned quickly after my marriage to Wilfred that it is better to leave your mama be.”
“How else am I to handle such ridiculousness?” asked Marian, picking at the crust of her bread. “Now that Roberta has married and left home, Mama is determined to rid herself of her last troublesome daughter—regardless of whether it is a good match or not.”
Rachel sent her sister-in-law a puzzled look. “You think Mr. Highmore a poor match?”
Marian returned the look with an equal measure of perplexity. “You think him a good match for me?”
The lady’s shoulders rose, though she did not go so far as to shrug, her right hand churning the air as though that might supply the words she sought. “It would depend on your definition of ‘good,’ but I know Mr. Highmore is a good man and a good father. From what I understand, he was a wonderful husband to Mrs. Highmore and devoted to her. Though his property is not large, it does supply his family with a good income. You would be comfortable.”
Puffing out her cheeks, Marian let out a long sigh. “He is a good man by many standards, but we do not suit each other. We have no spark of friendship. We do not long for each other’s company. We may not disagree, but that is only because we have so little common ground that our opinions have no opportunity to clash. Nor does he seem interested in having a closer relationship than that of convenience.”
“But Marian, dear, I think you do yourself a disservice when you think of marriage in such stark terms,” said Rachel. “There is a whole world of possibilities between a ‘good’ match and a ‘poor’ one. You shouldn’t limit yourself with such unyielding delineations. Mr. Highmore may not be ideal for you, but that does not mean he is wrong for you, either. It is well and good for you to have ideals for your future husband, but you shouldn’t allow that to keep you from accepting a decent prospect.”
Marian turned her gaze fully to Rachel. “Are my requirements for a husband so very outlandish that I ought to settle for a ‘decent’ prospect rather than a fine one? I might be willing to overlook the fact that he doesn’t love me, nor does he desire that to change, but should I marry someone whom I cannot even count as a friend or confidant? Someone who shows no interest in me outside of needing a mother for his horde of children?”
The more she spoke, the clearer Marian saw that future. Love was grand, and she longed for it, but friendship and mutual respect were necessities. Without that, they would be merely two people living in proximity to each other. What benefit was there to be had in accepting such an arrangement? A husband was more than a warm body with an income.
“Perhaps,” said Rachel with a tone that betrayed kindly-meant disbelief. “But I wouldn’t discount Mr. Highmore simply because you haven’t felt a connection to him. It can take time to forge a proper relationship.”
Marian nodded, knowing there was truth in Rachel’s words, but beneath that hesitant acceptance, she knew her feelings were not likely to change. Turning her attention back to her discarded plate of food, Marian picked at the edges as her thoughts sifted through the situation and considered Rachel’s advice.
Was it foolish to ignore Mr. Highmore’s halfhearted attempts at courtship? If she had not secured love in her early twenties, Marian knew she was unlikely to do so when her age was a black mark against her as well, even if Rachel and Mama insisted eight and twenty was not so very old. However, to bind herself to someone whom she could not count as a friend was inconceivable. Even without romance, marriage could be a fine situation if her husband was an amicable companion. Without that, life seemed a bleak thing. Rather like trading her current existence for a new address and nothing more.
Good heavens, she was being maudlin today. Marian didn’t like to wallow in such thoughts, for they denigrated all the many good things to be found in her life—and she knew herself to be quite blessed. Her family’s situation was comfortable, and even if her days were devoid of close friendships, she rubbed along well with the family who remained at Wrenwood Cottage. Her sister-in-law was a fine addition to the family, and Marian enjoyed her company for the most part. A far better life than many could boast.
“Hello, there!” Rachel rose to her feet and waved at a passing group of people, wrenching Marian from her thoughts.
Instinct drew Marian up as well, though the question of Mr. Highmore lingered in her mind, occupying much of her attention until she finally noticed whom Rachel was greeting. Marian tensed as she cast her gaze tohisparents withhissister standing to one side, though only the latter noticed Marian standing there. Forcing her breath in and out, she fought to hold onto her smile, clinging to a demure, calm facade. Miss Evelyn Finch’s smile was faint, but it grew as they exchanged nods, and some of the pressure in her chest eased a fraction.
“Miss Rachel, how good to see you. Though I suppose it is not Miss Rachel anymore,” said Mrs. Felicity Finch with a bright laugh. “It has been a few years since the wedding, but I fear I shall always struggle to think of you as Mrs. Wakefield.”
