Mother’s bedchamber was even larger than mine. The dressing room connected to the master bedroom, which Father would have occupied if he’d been with us. I missed him more than ever. He had not always been able to spare me from Mother, but he had softened her blows and given me a reason to smile.
“Sit.” She pointed to one of the brocade chairs near the cold fireplace.
I perched on the edge of the chair, remembering how she had instructed my governess to put knives through the slats of my dining chair as a child, forcing me to sit erect. I was never comfortable in Mother’s presence. My skin rippled with the chill in the air.
Mother took the seat opposite from me, her back as straight as a rod. She had taught herself everything she had needed to know to enter New York society. Her parents were poor European immigrants, and she had hardly known how to read and write when she met my father, let alone how to maneuver through the inner circles of the upper crust. She had worked tirelessly to be accepted by them but had not yet achieved her ultimate goal: tobeone of them.
She studied me for a moment, her grey eyes neither hard nor soft. Almost detached. “What is your aversion to marriage?” she finally asked.
My mouth became lax as I stared at her. She rarely asked for my thoughts or opinions. She simply dictated orders that I followed. Mama was the one with whom I shared my heart, my dreams, my ambitions.
“I’m not opposed to marriage,” I said slowly, thinking of Henry and how I longed for a life with him, though it was an impossible dream. “I simply have no wish to marry now.”
“Why not?”
I wanted to tell her that I would not be here in thirteen months and did not wish to waste what little time I had left on courting or marriage.
Instead, I said, “I’m young.”
“That’s absurd. Most women who have been through two seasons are married or at the very least engaged. If not, there’s generally something wrong with them.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at her thinking, longing for Mama’s promise of a time when a woman’s marital status was not a reflection of her worth or value.
My work with the suffragette movement came to mind as a reason I did not wish to marry, but Mother Wells detested any mention of it, believing the movement beneath me. She thought little about politics and less about the women who were fighting for the right to vote. Her concern had always been personal advancement and social power, thinking a woman had a better chance of controlling her destiny by playing within the bounds of society’s rules instead of trying to change them. I wanted to tell her that she could do so much for those less fortunate if she directed her boundless energy and clever mind toward the greater good. She was extremely intelligent and sly. If I was not always on the receiving end of her machinations, I would be in awe. My greatest weakness was that I was no match for her cunning—and she knew it.
I had to think of a reason I did not want to marry, so I said the only other thing I could think of. “I have no wish to leave America.”
She waved her hand as if that were of little consequence. “What is one place or another? You would make friends here.”
“I already have friends.”
Mother finally sighed and pressed her hands against her knees. “I’ve made up my mind. Lord Cumberland will do quite nicely.”
“Lord Cumberland?” I frowned. “I have no interest in marrying him.”
“That doesn’t matter. He is a marquess, and I have a feeling he will rise in political power. Even if he does not become the prime minister one day, I believe he will serve in a great capacity.Andhe’s in need of an heiress. Lady Paget visited him last week and made sure he would be in attendance tonight so he could meet you. He told her he is amenable to pursuing a courtship and marriage—if certain stipulations are met.”
Bystipulations, she meant money.
“No.” I stood, my heart pounding hard. “I do not wish to marry Lord Cumberland.”
“Sit down, Elizabeth.” Her voice was hard and unmoving.
I sat.
“We will allow Lord Cumberland to court you, and if he’s agreeable to the match, we will speak of the details later.”
I shook my head, my breath coming quickly. “No.”
Her eyes hardened. “I’ve prepared you for this day, Elizabeth. There is no escaping your fate. You were born for a position of importance, and marriage is the only way a woman can gain that power and prestige.”
I couldn’t stay in her room any longer. I rose again, my arms and legs trembling. “I will not marry him, and you cannot make me.” I sounded like a petulant child, but I was desperate for her to understand. “I will appeal to Father.”
“Your father.” Her laugh was part condescension and part disgust. “He is precisely who I am considering. He knows exactly why we’ve come here.”
I took a step backward, toward the door. “He will not force me to marry Lord Cumberland or anyone else.”
She rose and approached me. “Your father needs you to make a good match, just as you do. He stands to gain a great deal if you marry someone within the English government. Just think of all the shipping contracts he could negotiate. I’m only thinking of you and your father.”
