Their differences in opinion, Joanna had long ago concluded, came from the very different ways they had healed after their father’s death. Whereas the unexpected passing of the sibling’s only remaining parent had made Joanna all the more determined to follow her heart, it had left Evie with a lingering sense of bitterness and longing. The middle Thorncroft sister wanted what she’d had to give up, and she was willing to do whatever it took to get it all back.
The beautiful house in the middle of town. A gleaming carriage that turned heads as it passed down the street. Hats and gowns and rooms filled with shoes. Material belongings that meant little to Joanna, and everything to Evie.
There was nothing wrong with either position, except that they weresovery opposite there seemed to be no way a compromise could be reached. Added to that, their grandmother had tacitly refused to give her blessing for Evie to marry until Joanna found a husband first, and thus the sisters found themselves at each other’s throats more often than not.
“I did notwantto refuse Charles.” Tossing her bonnet onto an empty table, Joanna reached to the nape of her neck and pulled out the pins holding her heavy coiffure in place. Giving a blissful sigh when her hair tumbled freely down her back, she surrendered herself to the nearest chair and kicked her feet up on a worn leather ottoman. Tiny dust plumes flew into the air, illuminated by rays of late morning sunlight trickling in through the curtainless windows.
“Then why did you?” Evie demanded.
“Because he didn’t give me any choice in the matter.” Joanna started to close her eyes, then opened them with a grimace when it became obvious by the tension simmering in the air that Evie had no intention of letting the matter drop. “I did not love him. He did not love me. What else is there to say? Ofcourse,I declined his proposal. It would have been a disservice to both of us had I accepted.”
“What in the world does love have to do with anything?” Evie asked, unknowingly repeating what Charles had said nearly verbatim. “Charles Gaines is the wealthiest bachelor in all of Somerville. You would want for nothing as his wife.Wewould want for nothing. Surely you don’t have to be in love in order to see that.”
“You’re right, I don’t have to be love. But I dowantto be in love.” When Joanna heard the patter of feet on the stairs, she sat up straight and greeted her youngest sister with a warm, affectionate smile. “There you are. I was wondering if you’d returned from the market yet.”
“Half an hour ago.” As fair as Evie was dark, Claire’s light blonde curls framed a delicate face with high arching brows, soft cheekbones, and a mouth shaped like a cupid’s bow. She had a sensitive nature, and a sweet heart, and was adored by all who knew her. “I was able to get more flour and eggs, but butter has gone up to nearly fifteen cents a pound.”
“Fifteen cents?” said Joanna incredulously. “That’s absurd! Mr. Hemphill acts as if his cows are churning out gold.”
The corners of Claire’s lips twitched. “For their sake, I’m glad they are not. That sounds as if it would be very uncomfortable. How was your stroll with Mr. Gaines?” Nudging Joanna’s feet aside, Claire sat on the edge of the ottoman. “Did he—”
“Ask her to marry him?” Evie interrupted with a glare at Joanna. “Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. I’ll give you three guesses as to what our dear sister said, but you’re only going to need one.”
Clair sighed. “Oh, Jo, notagain. I was under the impression you liked Charles.”
“Ididlike him. Although his choice in pants was admittedly questionable.”
“How did he take the news?”
Leave it to Claire to worry about the man her sister had spurned.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Joanna gave a small shrug. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure. There’s a line of women from here to Boston waiting to marry him.”
“Yes, but you were at theheadof the line.” Like a cat with its hackles raised, Evie began to pace back and forth across the room, her skirts swishing angrily between her ankles. “YouknowMr. Bridgeton has asked to court me. Not only is his father a senator, but he’s considering a run for the governorship at the end of next year! I could be a governor’s daughter-in-law. Think of all the high society I’d be able to entertain! Why, we’d probably even get to go to Washington and meet President Grant. But if I cannot accept Mr. Bridgeton’s proposal becauseyoukeep refusing yours, then there’s no point to it, is there?”
“How do you know Mr. Bridgetonwouldpropose?” Joanna asked.
“Jo,” Claire chided gently. “That’s not very nice.”
“But it’s true. Who’s to say whether he and Evie would get on or not? After all, that’s the entire point of a courtship, isn’t it? To decide if the person bringing you flowers and reciting poetry under the full moon is someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.” Joanna brushed an auburn curl behind her ear. “For what it is worth, I’ve always found Mr. Bridgeton a tad dull.”
Evie stopped short. “Mr. Bridgeton is notdull. He is refined.”
“I believe if you look in Roget’s Thesaurus you’ll find that refined is another word for dull.”
“Oh, dear,” Claire murmured with a distressed glance between her sisters. “Can’t we just—”
“Why must you besucha brat?” Evie hissed.
Joanna’s eyes narrowed. She didn’tliketo fight with her sister. But she couldn’t very well let an insult pass without returning it in kind. What sort of precedent would that set? Evie was already unbearable under the best of circumstances. Allowing her to get away with her abominable behavior would only make it worse.
“If anyone is being a brat here,” she said, jabbing her finger at Evie, “it’syou. I’ve every right to accept—or refuse—any marriage proposal given to me.”
“Not when your refusal has dire implications for the entire family!”
“What would you have me do?” she exclaimed. “Marry someone I don’t love?”
Evie set her jaw. “Do you love the roof over our heads? Do you love the food on our table? Do you love the clothes on our backs? Because if you don’t marry soon, and marry well, not being able to afford a pound of butter is going to be theleastof our concerns.”
