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Heavens. Edward’s jaw went slack. Slowly, the pieces fell into place before his eyes. That was why Mr. Coventry had allowed him to return and for their marriage to happen, because he was getting something far greater in return—proof that he belonged in the upper class by obtaining a relation to an earl.

“Did the arrangement also include bringing me back to work on the library?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“It had taken a great deal of coercion to convince Father to allow our marriage, but he was resolute in not hiring you on again. That is, until Beatrice told him that he could control the narrative of his family at a greater level if he raised you up in Society’s eyes, as he did for himself.”

Edward should have known. Mr. Coventry had said as much, but knowing he’d sacrificed the happiness of his eldest daughter to get what he wanted…Edward shook his head. Should he be blessed to have any daughters, he would never put them in such a position as to bargain their future to make himself appear better than he was.

“I am sorry,” Miss Coventry said hesitantly, eying Edward’s scowl. “As you know, I do not care about your status, but Beatrice knew that logic would speak to Father more than anything.” She winced. “Are you angry?”

Edward shook his head, softening his frown. “No. I know your intent was pure, as well as your sister’s.” He paused. “I will admit, though, that I have a mind to run Steele and Son into the ground on purpose, if only to teach your father that class means nothing to me…” Thankfully, Miss Coventry caught his teasing eye and smiled.

He blew out a breath, running his fingers through his hair. What a morning. What a drastic change to how he’d expected the day to turn out. Who would have thought they would owe everything to Miss Beatrice Coventry. A wave of gratitude rushed over him. “You are certain your sister is decided on the matter?” he asked. “She really does not wish to be with the stable hand?”

Miss Coventry shook her head, her eyes taking on a distant look. “No. Her desire to have ease of life was always stronger than her desire to be with him.”

Marianne thought back to her conversation with Beatrice, her heart still aching at the memory. She had tried so hard to convince her sister to not give up her future, but Beatrice had been adamant.

“I always had a mind to marry Mr. Wakefield anyway,” she had said as the two had conversed days before. “I was simply denying the opportunity as a means of ruffling Father’s feathers. Now that Charlie is no longer in my life, it will be easier to move on. And Mr. Wakefield is kind. He will treat me right.”

Marianne had reluctantly agreed as the plan had progressed, though she had since prayed with all her might that Mr. Wakefield would make her sister happy.

After their strategy had been laid out, they’d taken the proposal to Mother, who had reluctantly agreed, for she knew, as well as Marianne, that Beatrice would move forward with or without her consent.

As a united front, the three Coventry women had set upon Father, invoking his compassion as well as his business-oriented mind. Marianne could not have been more grateful that everything had worked out for the best. She never could have agreed to marry Mr. Steele had she not done something to ease the financial burden she was sure to place upon him as his new wife.

Still, Beatrice’s sacrifice could not be erased from Marianne’s mind.

“You’ve given up your life for me,” she’d said only the night before.

“And you gave up five years for me,” Beatrice had returned.

“That hardly equates to the same. I will be indebted to you forever.”

Beatrice had been silent for a moment, moisture brimming in her eyes. “Then do one thing for me, Marianne.”

“Anything.”

She reached out, holding Marianne’s hands in her own. “Promise me to live. Be happy and live.”

Thinking of the memory now still brought tears to Marianne’s eyes, and as Mr. Steele reached up, brushing the moisture fallen to her cheeks, she was pulled back to the present—her glorious, blessed present.

“What is it?” he asked in a whisper, wiping away another of her tears.

She shook her head with a solemn smile. “I am merely thinking of our future together—and how happy I will be with you.”

A wave of uncertainty flickered over his features. “Will you be happy?” She tipped her head in question, and he averted his gaze. “You said your sister wished for ease of life. I cannot help but fear that you will wish for the very same. I can promise you a life full of love and hard work, but even with your father’s help, we may be destitute forever. And even if I had wealth, I would always be but a humble woodcarver.”

How she longed to erase his vulnerability forever, to ensure he knew that her love was steadfast and true, no matter their wealth or lack thereof. She reached forward, lacing her fingers together at the back of his neck.

“I never did get to tell you about the dinner I attended, did I?”

He shook his head, resting his hands on her hips.

“I do not exaggerate when I say that it was utterly and absolutely miserable.”

He sniffed out a laugh at her dramatic response. “And why was that?”

“Because every single moment I was there, every single person with whom I spoke, I compared to my time with you in Wells. Your company, your kindness, and your attentiveness are unmatched.” She trailed her finger down the side of his jawline, and his eyes closed for a moment, as if to enjoy her touch more fully. “Over the last five years, I have painted, I have read books, and I have sketched and sewn and everything else on that blessed schedule. But do you know of what I was thinking during every moment of my daily routine before you came to Daffley?” He shook his head. “I was hoping—praying—that the time would come that I would finally be seen. Truly seen. Then one day at a cricket match, I was.”