nine
IF MAMA WERE a type of weather, she would thunder and rain over Angeline’s head.
After the incident with Mr. North and the pleasurable meeting with Baron Wharton, Angeline had to endure her mother’s temper. Not only had Mama given Angeline a piece of her mind at the ball, but also in the carriage, and at home. She’d started her rant all over again in the morning as if Angeline hadn’t spent the past eight hours hearing her mother complain.
Your reputation wouldn’t be tarnished… it’s all a trick… you had only to say yes…it’s a lot of money.
She’d heard it all.
“I don’t understand how you managed to ruin a perfectly reasonable proposition by Mr. North,” Mama half-whispered, half-hissed as they promenaded in Hyde Park the day after the ball. “He was shocked and… wet.”
Angeline suspected that the incessant talking and repeating was Mama’s strategy to force Angeline to change her mind. Likely, Mama believed that if she repeated the same things over and over, sooner or later they’d sink into her daughter’s brain. Good luck with that.
On top of that, Mr. North had had the brilliant idea of paying a morning visit to their residence to complain—again—with Mama about Angeline’s appalling and unladylike behaviour. His words, not hers. He’d been as enraged as he’d been at the ball, minus the wet clothes. Mama had nodded her head and apologised, which had made Angeline want to cast up her accounts.
So here she was, walking in the park while her mother scolded her for the umpteenth time for not having let a man discuss selling her body. She was sure other women her age had very different conversations with their mamas.
“You really poured a vase of water over Mr. North.” Mama’s eyebrows knit together. “I’ve raised you better than that.”
Angeline hoped she didn’t have the same menacing expression when she frowned. “Mr. North groped me. He deserved it. And I reacted on impulse. I didn’t hurt him. It’s not my fault he doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no.”
“Angeline.” Mama came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the gravel path. “I allowed Mr. North to talk to you because he’s young, handsome, and rich. Very rich. Less savoury gentlemen might have come forward. All you had to do was endure a conversation with him and then wait for the next part of the deal. I’ve never asked you to have a tumble under the skirts with him.”
“I don’t like his attitude. He disrespected me, groped me, and considered me only an item he’s buying.”
“Welcome into my world, daughter of mine, and lest you get romantic ideas, all men are the same. I had to endure many unpleasant nights to put food on our table.”
“And I appreciate it, tarnation!” She regretted her tone when Mama flinched. “I appreciate how difficult it was for you. I understand all the sacrifices you were forced to make to keep us alive. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but you seem not to understand a very simple concept.” She put herhand on Mama’s arm. “Drugging unaware men to make them believe whatever you want is not just against the law, it’s wrong.”
It was astonishing that Angeline’s moral values came from her mother. Those values of honesty and integrity had always been lies. Lies that were corrupting her as well because she couldn’t deny the fact she was Mama’s accomplice. An unwilling one, but still an accomplice.
Mama pressed her lips in a flat, grim line. “No. It’s wrong that a woman, whose husband left her and their child without means to survive, must struggle and humiliate herself for a piece of bread and a place to sleep.” Her eyes shone, and her voice cracked. “I’ve crawled through the mud of this city to survive. I’ve done horrible things that kept me up at night. I had to change myself to survive because years ago I wasn’t the ruthless woman I am today. And if an idiot like Mr. North thinks he can take my beautiful daughter by paying me, then I’m going to trick him and take his money. Serves him right. He deserves nothing less than to be fooled.”
Angeline hugged her mother, her heart torn. The pain in her mother’s voice touched her deeply, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure what she would have done in a similar situation. But she wasn’t her mother, and their current situation wasn’t catastrophic. There were other options that didn’t involve breaking the law, selling herself, or, in general, lying to protect her mama.
“I understand your sentiment,” Angeline said, her voice cracking. “I really do. But your revenge on the rich and powerful men won’t change the past and won’t make a better future.”
Mama sniffled but composed herself quickly. “I only care about your future. I don’t care about changing the world. The world can go and rot for all I care. I want you to have a secure future in which you have the power to make your own decisions. Everyone else can sod off if you excuse my language.”
“We have options though. I can marry. If I find a good match, we don’t have to drug or blackmail people anymore.” She lowered her voice.
“How is marriage better? What if you end up marrying someone you don’t like, but who has a lot of money as happens to half of those eager, giggling debutantes? Will you enjoy his touch? Will you feel free and independent? Your husband will control your expenses, choices, and even your children.”
Angeline shuffled her feet. Many women married men they didn’t love only for their status and money. But surely, there were people who married because they respected and cared for each other. The world couldn’t be as grim as Mama described it.
“And what about your arm?” Mama touched the scarred arm. “Gentlemen don’t find your scar appealing. If a man doesn’t accept you for who you are, how can he love you?”
“I could find someone I like and who likes me. Someone who doesn’t disgust me as much as Mr. North. There are nice men in this world.”
Unbidden, Royston’s harsh face came into her mind.
He wasn’t born a gentleman, but he was a true one. When they’d waved silently goodbye to each other in the garden, a flutter had started in her stomach. Their shared adventure behind the curtains had deepened the bond between them. She missed him. She should send him a note and ask to arrange a visit. That wouldn’t be inappropriate, would it?
“Darling.” Mama held her hand. “Men are all nasty, conniving creatures.”
“You’re quite deceitful yourself.”
Mama ignored her. “Men will woo you, at first, only to lure you into their beds. They might marry you, but then what? They’ll lose interest after you give them your body. Then they’ll find a mistress who’s younger and prettier than you. Or worse,they’ll come to your bedroom when they’re drunk and force themselves on you.”
