For a long moment, no one spoke. Willow held her breath and glanced at Tessa. Of the two friends, she was more likely to be generous. Now, she remained generously silent.
“What is a ‘Gentleman Sailor’?” asked Sabine.
“I thought we agreed that it was best to solicit gentlemen,” said Willow.
“This assumes that the advertisement will solicit anyone at all,” said Sabine. “Now ’tis only to begentlemenwho apply?”
“And why shouldn’t we ask for exactly what we want?” said Willow. “ ‘Gentleman Sailor’ is an inspired phrase.”
“It’s an imaginary phrase,” said Sabine. “If you mean to ask for exactly what you want, why not say ‘Will Trade Dowry for Absentee Husband’?”
Now Tessa spoke up. “I think it a very . . . dashing advertisement, Willow.”
“Dashing?” Willow repeated dully. “Dashing? It is brilliant, and you both know it. It will solicit hundreds of applications. We’ll interview as many as necessary until we identify the perfectthree.” She took up the pen to thicken the letters of her script.
For a long moment, the two other women watched in silence. Finally, Tessa asked, “What if they’re awful, Willow? These men. Will you consider horrible men? Will you consider toads?”
“Toad or not, we’re only meant to endure them long enough to marry them and bid them bon voyage,” said Willow.
“In other words, yes,” Sabine said. “They will be awful. Depend upon it.”
Willow gritted her teeth. “We do not, at present, luxuriate in unlimited options, do we? Tessa, you are in a delicate situation and refuse to appeal to your parents. And you, Sabine?” Willow sighed heavily. “I shudder to think what will come of you if you continue to provoke your uncle.”
Neither friend contradicted her; how could they when she spoke the truth? Willow went on. “And I have the opportunity to follow my passion to London—to actuallymake somethingof my life. But as you know, I’ve no acceptable way to make a home there. Not in my current situation: young, female, and alone.
Willow held out her hands, palms up. “As obstacles go, these are considerable, but our fathers settled dowries on us for a reason. Notthesereasons, I’ll grant you, but we shall seize what we can. If we cannot buy freedom outright, we shall buy three men desperate enough to marry us and let us go.”
This speech, which had been rehearsed down to the last “desperate enough,” was met with still more silence. Her friends shared a look.
“Might I remind you that I was set to never marry?” Willow added. “For obvious reasons,painfulreasons, I had reconciled myself to a life alone. I’ve flipped those intentions to save the two of you—”
“We aren’t denying that you do this to help, Willow . . . ” said Sabine, trailing off.
Willow tried again. “I’ve explained that my aunt’s townhouse in Belgravia is large enough for the three of us, and she’s welcomed us all. When we conceived the idea, it was that we would go together.”
“Yes, but conceiving it,” Sabine said, “and actually doing it are . . . ” She held out her hands as if the correct words could be snatched from the air. “It’s one thing to discuss the plan in theory, but quite another to post your name and direction in London and invite these men to . . . apply to you. And that’s not the worst of it. It is a gross misrepresentation to refer tomydowry oryourdowry as a ‘modest fortune’ to ‘disburse.’ We are not investors, Willow, we are girls who these men—strangers to us—would be forced tomarryif they wished to receive one farthing.”
“Not strangers,” corrected Willow.
“Excuse me, these ‘gentleman sailors,’ which, by the way, is not a known distinction.”
“Alright,” Willow agreed, “the plan is wholly outrageous—is this what you wish to hear? If so, I’ll be the first to admit it. But that doesn’t mean it cannot happen. Outrageous is notimpossible. Remember Gwen Pierpont? Shall I tell the story again? Gwen married a sea captain who spendsyearsat sea.Years. He is practically never at home in England, and when he is, it is only long enough to provision for his next voyage. Gwen, therefore, has complete freedom to do as she pleases—in London or Surrey or wherever she cares to go. She’s a married woman, and no one says a word against her. Can you imagine answering to no one? She is the happiest woman we know.”
“But married to a man she never sees?” said Tessa, dropping into a chair. “That sounds wretched.”
“You would do well to seefewermen, Tessa,” sighed Sabine, “not more.”
“Sabine, please,” said Willow.
“You’ve said yourself that Tessa does not have the freedom to be selective,” Sabine shot back. “None of us does.”
“Icanbe selective,” Tessa asserted. “I can select my brother’s friend Randall and marry him. He would marry me tomorrow if I would but say the word.”
In unison, Sabine and Willow said, “You’renotmarrying Randall.”
Tessa’s daily threat to marry the dull and dim-witted Randall elicited the reliable chorus of “You’re not marrying Randall.” It was why she had said it. But they could only reassure her for so long. Tessa’s situation was distressing, and it grew more urgent with every passing day.
Sabine said, “Willow, you cannot fault us for wanting more assurance than one neighbor whohappenedinto an absentee marriage with a particularly diligent sea captain. This hardly guarantees our same luck. Especially as we will ‘happen’ into nothing. You’re endeavoring toconstructthis arrangement. From the start.”
