Chapter Seven
Livy
Mr. Bane Sandersonwas a provoking creature. “Not all husbands are tyrants,” he’d said when he’d folded his large frame into the chair beside her.
Obviously true. The bakery they patronized in Liverpool was owned by a happy couple. The husband ran to the shop that sold the baked goods his wife made. Each depended on the other and each respected the skills of the other. “Perhaps it is just gentlemen who make bad husbands, then,” Livy replied.
“And you know a vast number of couples in the gentry and aristocracy?” Bane asked. He sounded serious and sincere, but the twinkle in his eyes confirmed it was a sarcastic question.
“Enough,” she replied. Barely any, to tell the truth. But she had read the newspapers and listened to scandalous gossip. “My aunt says that one must expect husbands to stray, and that gentlemen are expected to be idle. Apparently, Jasper agrees with her.”
“I agree your cousin would make a bad husband.” Bane smirked. “Unless he grows up a bit, which is unlikely if his mother encourages him.”
Bane was not saying anything Livy hadn’t thought, but she was annoyed at the criticism. “He became viscount when hewas only sixteen,” she explained. “It must have been difficult for him.” That, at least, was what Aunt Ginny said.
“More difficult still for his mother,” he retorted. “Unlessherhusband was a tyrant? I daresay being a widow is preferable, in that case. You should add that to your options. Marry someone rich with one foot in the grave and look forward to being a wealthy widow.”
“Risky,” she responded. “With a young woman as his bride, he might rally. And she might have to wait another five years or longer to enjoy the fruits of her sacrifice.”
“True,” he acknowledged. “Though at least that would give her time to provide Lord Senescence with some children for her to enjoy once she is living in blessed widowhood.”
“What if he is cruel, as well as a tyrant?” Livy wondered. “Those five years would be interminable.”
“It might have been fifteen years. But let us be optimistic and imagine our imaginary bride knew a little bit about herb craft, and managed to introduce hemlock into the warm milk he drank before bed every night, even on the nights he came to perform his marital duty, despite her complaining it made his breath smell like the rancid effusions of an old goat.”
Livy chuckled. “Why, Mr. Sanderson. Are you advocating murder as a remedy to a bad marriage?”
“A rather permanent one, and far easier than divorce,” Bane declared. “With an old man, and his wife a virtuous lady known for her mild temperament and generous heart, no one is likely to disbelieve her account of things.”
“True enough,” Livy acknowledged. “You have convinced me, sir. I shall add the option of a wealthy old man and early widowhood.”
“Now, if it was you and me, the matter would be different,” Bane said. “I being a young man in robust health, and you being known as a lady of fixed opinions who does not suffer fools atall, let alone gladly. If you marry me and then poison me, Miss Wintergreen, do not expect to get away with it.”
“Since I do not intend to marry at all,” Livy retorted, “you are safe, Mr. Sanderson.”
“Perhaps I do not wish to be safe, Miss Wintergreen.”
Aunt Ginny suddenly seemed to recall their existence. “Livy, Cilla. Come and speak with Lord Curston and Mr. Curston, my dears.
“We must be going, before we outstay our welcome,” Bane murmured to his brother Drake.
“If Bane and I asked your aunt for permission to take the pair of you walking in Hyde Park tomorrow, would you be willing?” Drake asked Cilla.
“Yes,” she said. “Livy?”
The urge to say an enthusiastic “yes” was so disturbing that Livy nearly said “no,” but the outing was what Cilla wanted, so Livy curbed her reaction. “If you wish it,” she said, instead.
Drake bowed courteously to Aunt Ginny, put his proposed excursion to her, and asked her approval, all while Bane looked on.
Aunt Ginny frowned as she thought. “Very well,” she said, at last. “I can see no objection, provided you escort all five of my charges, and that you remain as a group throughout the entire outing.”
The brothers bowed their thanks, arranged a time, and left. The room seemed duller and smaller without Bane in it. How ridiculous of her to feel that way!
The company was certainly not as stimulating. Mr. Curston paid her a few compliments which sounded as if he had found them in a book, since no one in their right mind would have applied them to Livy.Shy flower from the countryside, indeed! Was the man blind?
But no, for his eyes were working perfectly well when he leered at her chest. Indeed, she didn’t think he looked above her neckline once while he spoke to her.
After the Curstons left, they entertained a succession of other visitors, but not one had anything to say that was of interest to Livy. It was all fashion, people Livy didn’t know, and horses. Livy couldn’t contribute, so she sat and finished her reticule and thought about Bane Sanderson.
