“I’ve bought the land,” she said.
Slowly, her words sank into me.What?I nearly let go of her and laughed.“We shouldn’t jest over such things. But I am glad you came. I have a plan. One that I think will be enough to save us.”
She swallowed hard, her half smile dropping into a frown that made my stomach fill with nerves. “I made an agreementwith my father,” Anna said in that same serious voice. “I asked for my dowry early so that I could invest it.” She raised her chin, sure and confident in herself. Or trying to seem that way, at least.
She couldn’t mean what I thought. That much land would cost a fortune. Then, again, there was always talk about how Anna’s dowry would be paired with whatever her mother had left her. But surely she wouldn’t have—
“As it turns out,” she continued as I stood there, speechless and full of assumptions, “your friend, the seller, liked me quite a lot when my father and I paid him a call yesterday. Especially when I told him how dearly I love you, and surprisingly, how dearly I’ve come to love Brighton.”
“Anna,” I managed weakly. “Are you saying you’ve bought my land?”
“Well, you weren’t planning to buy it, were you?”
“People will talk.”
She shrugged. “Let them. At any rate, I need a partner. Someone who will ensure that I succeed in my endeavor to develop it and rent out the houses for an annual income. I know nothing about anything, and I am quite overwhelmed.”
I was frozen. A statue. I tried to speak, but nothing came out.
She was brilliant.
Absolutely, beautifully, brilliant.
Anna persevered. “Of course, that will mean a quick wedding. Since my father has now, lovingly, cast me to the wayside and I am indeed quite homeless at the moment.” Then she pointed her finger at my chest. “But be warned: I am no fool, so I’ll expect a good return on my money. I’ll want mydowry back plus a ten percent increase, which shall be agreed upon in our marriage contract.”
“Ten percent.” I laughed, and she held her head high, raising her brows with a determined smile.
“Is that a yes, then? Oh, and I shall need a place to stay before the wedding. My father and I came to an agreement. If I am to make such a big decision, I must see it through myself. Alone.”
“Alone?”
“All alone.” Her smile faltered before instantly recovering. “Thus the homelessness. Indeed, as it turns out, going it alone is quite terrifying, and I am not enjoying the solitude. But I must admit, making my own decisions and planning for myself is quite freeing.”
I smiled proudly. There shined the woman I loved. But I could not let her make such a sacrifice. Not on my behalf.
“As generous of a bargain as this is, I’ve already got things sorted. Indeed, I spent all night thinking through details, making a plan.” As long-suffering as it would be. I raked a hand through my hair.
She held up a hand. A deepening crease touched her brow. “Whatever plan you’ve made will have to wait.Thisis the best opportunity for us, for our family, and I won’t let you pass it by because of something completely outside of your control. The deal is already done. I own the land, and the man I marry will have rights to it. I would like that man to be you. Let me invest inyou, Graham.I trust you, and I believe we can make a future here.”
It all sounded too good. Too perfect. “But you hate Brighton.”
As though she’d been waiting for that argument, sheturned round to where her satchel waited atop one of her trunks. “Here,” she said, handing me her notebook. “Read it.”
“I hardly think—”
She flung the thing at me. “I promised you could. Take it. Read the pages. There’s not that much; I became distracted by the end. But I meant every word.” She grabbed my wrist and tugged me toward a waiting trunk, forcing me to sit.
I looked up at her with patient frustration.
With a huff of irritation, she took the notebook from my hands and read aloud. “Day one: frustrating indeed. Mr. Everett insisted on riding inside the carriage though the weather was plenty fine to ride.” She looked down at me with mock disapproval. “His home, however, is lovely. The view from my balcony window is priceless.” She turned a page, reading silently down the page a bit. “Day two: Brighton’s shores are rocky and unstable. The water chilly, and at times rather brown. Beautiful shells can be found, and the view all around, stunning. Easy to envision families here, laid out with a picnic blanket, perhaps with more than a handful of pillows, enjoying the sun together.”
I was silent. She’d written something nice. She turned a page and handed the notebook back to me.
I reached inside my jacket and pulled out my spectacles, admiring her silky, rounded scrawl.
Days three and four:
The Steine is pleasant, busy, with nearly every shop a person could want. More shops will likely come, though how sustainable they will be long-term and in the off-season is questionable. I particularlylove the expansive lending library, which is a central spot for tourists. However, I found the catalog lacking in comparison to London’s.
