“My nearly perfect record remains nearly perfectly intact!” Mrs. Rose clapped and then raised her champagne in a toast. “To the future Lady Elswyth Gall!”
Percival shifted uncomfortably. “Hm. Hear, hear.”
Mrs. Rose ignored him. She poured more bubbling elixir into her glass and then fixed a second for Kehinde. He waved it away, instead looking curiously at Elswyth.
“Congratulations, Miss Elderwood,” Kehinde said. “Do you think you’ll say yes?”
“He is, well… He is about my age, you know,” Percival added. “This is not quite what I had in mind when I introduced you two.”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Elswyth said.
Mrs. Rose scoffed. “Of course she will. It’s not as though she has other proposals to speak of. And Dr. Gall might not seem like it, but he’s one of the richest men in the city. Medical patents, or something like that—a marriage to him is a dream come true. Ithought he was off the market completely after he lost his wife and son. But it seems he has a soft spot for our Elswyth.”
Percival sipped his champagne. “Yes, yes, all of that is true. But again, Elswyth, you have your whole life ahead of you… Are you sure you want a husband who may be dead by the time your children come of age? Will he make you happy?”
“I was not under the impression that my happiness was your concern,” Elswyth said. Venom seeped into her voice. More than she meant, anyway.
Percival bristled. “You know that’s not true—”
“Oh, I know very well that it is true, or you would not be sending me to marry Cousin Ficus. All you and my father have ever cared for is the financial future of our family. Well, handsome he is not, but Gall is here, and he is offering us a solution to our woes.”
Percival looked wounded. “I only want you to know your worth, Elswyth. You often follow your mind in situations like this. But if there was ever a time to follow your heart, it would be now.”
Percival looked at her significantly. Mrs. Rose broke in. “Perhaps if she had her eye on someone, but Miss Elderwood is not so easily seduced. No, Gall is the way. It solves all your problems quite neatly.”
Mrs. Rose looked at Elswyth, then to Percival, and her smile slowly faded. “No…”
Elswyth stood, turning her face away.
“Who? Who is it?” Mrs. Rose asked.
Elswyth turned to Kehinde, who stood behind her uncle. “How did you know?”
Kehinde smiled. He looked up at the wooden ceiling of thegrand old house. “I did say the walls talk. That’s quite literal for a dendromancer. I know everything that happens in my house—that includes when Silas Blackthorn sneaks in through the window.”
Mrs. Rose gasped. “Blackthorn? Harrow’s bastard? Elswyth, you must be joking.”
Elswyth’s lower lip began to tremble, but she tried to hold it firm. “It doesn’t matter.”
Percival frowned. “Silas is a good lad. He might have a bad reputation… but reputation be damned. Do you love him?”
Elswyth hesitated, surprised by his bluntness.
“Of course she doesn’t,” Mrs. Rose said, “and I’m surprised you would suggest it!”
“I—I don’t know,” Elswyth whispered.
The words seemed to shake Mrs. Rose. Her face went blank and then filled with fury. “She cannot love him,” Mrs. Rose said. “He is a bastard. It’s improper, Elswyth. Perhaps it’s not wrong, not exactly, but society will turn their back on you. You’ll be outcasts!”
Elswyth began to speak, but Percival cut her off. “I have found that being an outcast is no matter, so long as you are cast out with the right people.”
Kehinde smiled, putting his hand on Percival’s shoulder. Percival found it there, taking it in his own. Mrs. Rose looked scandalized, eyes wide, but said nothing.
Percival stood. Kehinde took his other hand. “Come, my love. It’s getting late. Shall we retire?” he said.
Percival’s eyes shone. “I should like nothing more.”
And with that, the two left the room, hand in hand.
