“Lizzie.” He gently pulled her toward the entrance. “Come now, you are braver than this.”
***
Only Elizabeth did not feel brave in the least. She may well be marrying a whoreson, but she’d never entered a whorehousein all her life. Yet before she knew it, they were ushered inside by a proper-looking footman who showed them to a formal drawing room to await the madam of this brothel, her future mother-in-law.
Within seconds, an arresting, dark-haired woman dressed in housekeeper black strode toward them.
“Jasper.” She bussed his cheeks. “It is good of you to come.” The lady did not deign to greet Elizabeth but only looked her over. “Not unattractive, but rather plain.”
She proceeded to assess Elizabeth’s every shortcoming. “Pity she wears spectacles,” Madam tutted, “as they hide her best feature, the eyes, though with hips like hers she’ll have no trouble birthing you heirs. You chose well in that regard, at least.”
The woman behaved as if she, Elizabeth Winthrop, did not inhabit the very person standing right before the lady!
“And you’ve verified her maidenhood?” His mother turned to Milton. “You’ll not be made a cuckold?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth in outrage, but the Baron stepped so close she felt his frame support—or warn—her.
“I assure you, Mother, Miss Winthrop remains as chaste as good breeding demands.” His hand fell to Elizabeth’s waist. “I could not be more pleased with my bride.”
Elizabeth’s nostrils flared. She would not let this woman rattle her. She’d hold her head high.
“Well I should hope so, given the sum you paid for her.” Madam Audrey huffed. “You should have offered half as much for?—”
Elizabeth pulled from Milton and stared the lady down. “I will not be discussed like a broodmare, madam, my appearance pored over without regard to my intellect. If you intend to treat the mother of your future grandchildren in such manner as this, ours will be no amicable relationship. In fact, I shall ensure your grandchildren havenorelationship with you at all.”
Madam Audrey blinked, then turned to ring the bell, ushering in a servant. “Martha,” she addressed the girl rather than address Elizabeth, “we will luncheon now.”
The maid’s abrupt curtsy left Elizabeth only more outraged.
“Jasper, please escort your bride to the dining room,” his mother ordered.
Milton took Elizabeth’s arm.
What ensued passed in a blur, Elizabeth’s jaw remaining clenched for the entirety of the brutal meal. For Milton and his mother conversed over the dishes as if she were not seated right beside them. They spoke of business and mutual acquaintances, of Miss Li and of money.
There was a greatdeal of talk regarding money.
What’s more, Elizabeth had not a soul to turn to for sympathy; even the servants ignored her. Oh, they filled her glass and heaped her plate, but they performed these tasks with neither kindness nor contempt.
It was as if she had ceased altogether to exist.
Her mind hungered to comprehendwhyMilton’s mother gave her the cut direct. Never in her life had she been so disrespected. Snubbed before by members of theTon, yes. But her person—the Winthrop name—was at the very least always acknowledged.
Yet their behavior made her feel almost ashamed of who she was.She, Elizabeth Winthrop, of good standing and good breeding! Of high morals and expectations! Never mind her father had gambled his wives’ fortunes and thereby his daughters’ futures.Never mind she’d had to pawn, borrow, and sully her person by interacting with a subset of London’s riffraff to keep her father from financial ruin.She,Elizabeth Winthrop,wassomebody.
The longer she sat in mortification, the more she wished to flee. And the longer she stewed and chafed, the less she cared if Papa now had to scrape, cheat, and steal to return every penny this bloody baron had paid him for her hand. She would not wed this man tomorrow. She could not.
“I am leaving,” she announced.
***
Milton’s head snapped up as Elizabeth’s chair scraped back from the table. She made for the door as his mother grabbed his hand to keep him in his seat.
“I warned you it was too much, too soon,” she grumbled.
“She’d best get used to it, Mum.”
“Only she needn’t get used to it the day before her wedding.” His mother pursed her lips. “You’ve been too hard on her, I can tell.”
