“We’ll manage fine, Mother. Let Minnie marry the man she loves.” And hopefully he would call again soon. It had been almost two weeks without a word from him. Portia continued to assure Minnie that her gentleman had not forgotten her.
Lady Maclean gave a snort. “That will not happen.” She set her cup down on its saucer and smiled. “You see, I had a private conversation with Mr. Tolliver when last he called.”
All of Portia’s senses went on alert. Her mother could be very resourceful when she wished. “She loves him, Mother,” Portia restated. “In fact, she is quite concerned that he has not called lately. I tell her that he has probably been very busy. His profession is not one with regular hours.”
The self-satisfied smile spread across Lady Maclean’s face, and Portia’s suspicions grew. “You warned him off,” she accused her mother.
“He’s not worthy of her.”
“How did you do it?” Portia demanded, spreading her arms wide. “You are either here in this room or in our company at all times.”
“You girls are not as attentive to me as you wish to believe. I had a moment alone with him the last time he called. It did not take long for me to say what I wished to express to him.”
Portia let her arms fall to her side in exasperation. “How could you do that to Minnie? She loves him.”
“Love is not for those of our class, my daughter. We each have obligations. We marry for the benefit offamily. God gave Minerva beauty for herfamily’sbenefit. She needs to marry rich. After all, I want my sugar.”
The last statement startled Portia. “Your sugar?”
“I like sugar in my tea,” Lady Macleanannounced as if stating the obvious. “We have not been able to afford it since we moved to Scotland, and I find that unacceptable.”
“So Minnie must be unhappily married so you can have sugar? This is beyond selfish, Mother.”
“This is being practical.”
“But sheloveshim,” Portia all but shouted. “And he loves her.”
“Obviously not as much as you assume. It only took a word from me to set him off her. Trust me, Portia, it pains me to cause any of my daughters the slightest bit of unhappiness, but we must be sensible.”
Portia looked at her mother, who was dressed in lace and lounging on a bed that had seen finer days. They lived in a house that was cold and drafty, and so she dared to ask something they had never discussed before, “Didn’tyoumarry for love, Mother?”
Lady Maclean’s gaze shifted away from her. She reached down and picked at the shawl around her shoulders, rearranging it before raising guileless eyes and admitting in a quiet voice, “And so I know of which I speak.”
Crossing her arms, Portia looked away. “When were you going to tell Minnie what you’d done?”
“I see no reason to do so. If he doesn’t call, shewill forget him, especially when we go to the Christmas Assembly and all the men flock to her.”
“But how will she dance with a broken heart, Mother? Minnie isn’t shallow. She cared deeply for him.”
“She will learn to care for another” was the tart reply.
There was no answer to that.
Suddenly, Portia couldn’t stay in her mother’s presence one more second. She picked up the overflowing laundry basket and left the room.
“Please shut the door,” her mother called. “I hate the draft in the hall.”
Portia was happy to comply, slamming the door behind her.
However, alone on the other side, she all but collapsed against it.
Her mother exhausted her.
“And poor Minnie,” Portia whispered to herself. She must tell her what their mother had done.
At that moment, a door opened and Owl came down the hall, her tail high in the air as she trotted up to Portia. So far she had managed to keep the cat’s presence from their mother. Of course, Owl was a very independent creature. She could disappear for days at a time and then present herself whenever and wherever she wished.
Portia knelt to gather her pet up in her arms, asking, “What am I to say, Owl? How will I tell Minnie that Mr. Tolliver has deserted her? And all because of what Mother said. She’ll be heartbroken. Then again, what sort of true love is he to abruptly drop her just on Mother’s say-so? He probably understood our circumstances and ran. After all, how can he support all of us?” She hugged the cat close, feeling her heart beat. “I don’t know what we shall do, Owl. Things are not good—”
