He had come on too strong. He had said absolutely everything he was thinking. It had been too much.
He groaned, burying his face in his hands. She had drawn a line in the sand, and rightly so. He must have sounded like some drooling puppy. What an awful first impression he had made! He had only wanted to make her understand how masterful her writing was, what a gift it was to their generation.
Instead, she sought criticism. That was all very well. All great artists wanted to hone their craft. But what was he—a simple lover of beautiful words—supposed to add that she had not already thought of? And yet, if he hoped to correspond with her, that was the requirement.
He could not waste such a precious opportunity. Any communication with the talented Miss Grant should be grabbed with both hands. Although…er…perhaps grabbed somewhat morelightlythis time.
There were no writing tools in this chilly mausoleum of a room. Taking the woeful letter up to his chambers, he set about his reply. It did not come to him immediately. As he pondered the right thing to say, he chewed upon the end of the quill, a habit that had driven his masters at Harrow to distraction.
Minutes passed and no inspiration came to him. But he must saysomething. Unconvinced that his current attempt would fare better than his last, he penned the best response he could manage.
Dear Miss Grant,
The task you have assigned me is unenviable. How am I to judge your writing when I am no writer myself? It would be the height of hubris. And if, as a reader, I am to say where you are lacking, I can only declare that there are too few of your works and I am unsatisfied to have nothing new of yours to savor.
Perhaps you would consider sharing with me a new project in the making? I might have useful advice where your thoughts are not yet fully cemented and your words not yet polished to perfection. As for your published works, I fear it is too late. Nothing can be done for them but to admire them unreservedly.
Yours most sincerely,
Tobias Mannerly
The letter was passed to the footman to be delivered with the utmost urgency. If Miss Grant were kind, she would reply this day still and put him out of his misery. She must surely be kind. He did not imagine someone who wrote so exquisitely could be anything but an angel.
But he had been wrong before.
Chapter Two
Adriana flounced intothe room and threw herself upon Sophia’s bed, her curls—short and dark, like her sister’s—bouncing as she did so.
“Freddy is a coward!” she announced to Sophia, who was sitting up in bed and reading a book, or trying to. Adriana sighed and rolled onto her back, staring dreamily at the ceiling. “I do love him so. Why can he not be a man and stand up to Papa? What is the worst that can happen?”
Sophia closed her book. Once Adriana had started on the topic of Freddy, she was as relentless as a bulldog.
“I think we both know exactly what would happen, Deedee,” Sophia replied quietly, using her sister’s childhood nickname to soften the severity of the unspoken truth.
Adriana sat up at once, her eyes wide, her youthful cheeks flushed. “He wouldn’t, really. Would he, Fee? Not to family! Not after he lost Mama!”
Sophia shook her head, her expression grim. “If you marry Freddy, you will not be family anymore. Not to Papa.”
“Well, I don’t care!” Adriana lied. “Freddy loves me, and I love him. And if Papa is going to be mean about it, he doesn’t deserve to have me for a daughter.”
“Deedee! You can’t mean that!”
“I can, and I do,” Adriana replied sulkily, crossing her arms. “I’m already four and twenty, Fee. I want to have a home of myown. I want children. Papa should not deny me that. I know Freddy isn’t wealthy, but he is a gentleman of good character. Any other father would be happy to have him as a son-in-law.”
Sophia lowered her eyes. She knew her sister was right. The things she wanted were all quite reasonable. Her own situation was different. At fourteen, she had been forced to make peace with a future as an old maid. With her thirtieth birthday just around the corner, the reality of that future was now confirmed. But Adriana had not had the paralysis fever. She was not confined to a bed or chair. She had much to offer. And a full life to live.
Instead, their father was determined to keep his children around him. He had always been a difficult man—something Mama had managed to tame to some degree with tact and subtle manipulation. Yet even at his most stubborn, he had never been cruel. Mama’s death had changed him, made him hard and unyielding. And blindly possessive. He would never again give someone up. He saw in each of his five children an echo of his wife, and he would not be parted from any of it.
At first, they had tried to reason with him, reminding him that a bride or groom might be persuaded to stay in the family home. But even this did not change his mind. His children could neither alter his thinking, nor understand it fully. It became a shameful secret they were all forced to share. In time, when Bess did not come out in society, the world would know. Then again, perhaps it would not matter, since they so seldom moved within that world.
Though the years had brought a measure of understanding of their father’s behavior, it had not made it easier to live with. Their brothers—knowing a young wife was always available to them no matter how old they grew—were willing to wait until their father passed on to defy his will. For Sophia, Adriana, and young Bess, the situation was more complicated. Well, Sophiahad to admit, really only for Adriana. Bess had scarce been a babe when Mama had died. Now, at fifteen, she wasn’t quite ready yet to enter society, even if Papa would let her. As for herself…Sophia looked at her long, pale fingers. They would only ever hold books and pens. No man would want to take her limp body into his arms. No, when it came to his eldest, their father had nothing to worry about.
“If you leave,” Sophia said in a small voice, “I shall not be able to see you again. Our brothers are studying and working and living full lives. And Bess is too young to grasp the finality of my situation. Who would be left to comfort me if I lost you?”
“Oh, Fee!” Adriana flung her arms around her. “I would never leave you! You must come with me. Freddy wouldn’t mind.”
Sophia gave a wry laugh. “Freddy will barely be able to support you. And there will no doubt be a string of noisy little Freddies and Deedees to take care of. I would only be a burden. I cannot allow it.”
