“Dearest Lia, it won’t be as bad as all that.” She deliberately used Camellia’s childhood name in an effort to calm her. “You don’t have to come away from this visit with a proposal. Your father—”
“Stepfather.”
“Your stepfather merely said he wants you to survey the field.” Mrs Bloomfield smiled encouragingly. “And wouldn’t Wyemont Castle be the perfect place to begin?”
“I’d love to go to Wyemont, but Mama is too ill and I can’t go alone.”
“You won’t go alone, dear. I’ll be with you.”
Camellia’s mouth gaped open like a fish’s. “You?”
“I happen to have a few weeks of leisure until the next term begins after the holidays. I should be glad to accompany you, and as a schoolmistress and a respectable widow, who better to act as your companion than I?”
“Oh, Mrs Bloomfield! If you could come with me, I would…serve you forever!”
Her teacher chuckled. “Be careful what promises you make, dear girl. We’ll discuss the details of the trip over dinner. And the only payment I require is that you give your parents’ suggestions honest consideration.”
Camellia glared at the fireplace, as if it had done something wrong. “He also suggested that he would cut off my income in the New Year if he did not like my decision. The implication was quite clear: I must marry within a month or become a pauper, utterly dependent on my stepfather for my room and board.”
“It’s not as if you’ll be demoted to scullion.”
Camellia clenched her hands. “It’s not fair! My father intended to settle that sum on me free and clear. Mama knew that, but she’ll allow her new husband to…steal it!” Her eyes drifted up to the map hanging above the mantel. It depicted the eastern Mediterranean, and all the towns and points of interest along the coast. Her gaze traced a path she once hoped to travel, all the way from Italy to Cairo. “Ten thousand. I know he wants it for himself.”
“Your mother would never allow that.” Mrs Bloomfield’s tone was quite firm. “I am sure he has simply decided that the money should be managed properly.”
“You’ve seen her! Mama’s head has been turned completely by this man. ‘Edward knows this. Edward wants that. Edward is such a gentleman!’ Ha. Is that what love is? She won’t hear a word against him.”
“And you won’t hear a word for him,” Mrs Bloomfield noted. “But if you dislike him, all the more reason to find a suitable man to marry. Then you can leave this house and start your own life.”
“I like my life now.”
“No, you don’t,” said Mrs Bloomfield.
Camellia blinked, and her head suddenly cleared. Mrs Bloomfield was right. She had liked her life very well, until her father’s sudden death, and later, her mother’s disastrous second marriage. Disastrous for Camellia, that is. The past year had been unpleasant to begin with and nearly intolerable by the end.
But the solution was just as unpalatable: hunt down a husband and begin her own entrapment. Camellia felt a chill, only partly due to the weather. “What must I do?”
Mrs Bloomfield said, “We will go to Wyemont Castle. And not just for you to escape this house. Look on it as an opportunity. From what you’ve told me about them, the Fitzgeralds know some interesting—and influential—people. Besides, you haven’t seen Hortense since last year, and it’s been far longer than that since you’ve stayed with her.”
“It would be a treat to see her again,” Camellia admitted, for she loved her sometimes-flighty cousin. “Oh, Mrs Bloomfield. Why do you put up with me? I’ve been such a pain.”
“It’s the rain,” her companion said. “A change of scenery will do you wonders. And packing gowns for the journey will feel a bit like wrapping a present, won’t it?”
“I suppose,” Camellia said. Her mother and stepfather had seen to it that Camellia received a fine new assortment of gowns and accoutrements…part of the plan to present her as well as possible to potential suitors.
“And they always hold that big party for the whole countryside just before Christmas, don’t they?”
“On the longest night of the year.” Camellia nodded, but her thoughts were distant. Camellia looked at her former teacher with gratitude. “All right, then! Let’s go to Wyemont Castle and keep Christmas there. I will not think about the New Year until it comes.”
She was lying, but her smile soothed her friend well enough. Camellia knew that she would think about the New Year every day until it came.
Chapter 3
That same day, in the same rain-bound city, another meeting was being conducted. A dark-haired man whose age hovered just under thirty waited with an appearance of patience. His clothes were suitable, if plain, and it didn’t take too sharp an eye to see that his footwear was shiny with wear rather than polish. His skin showed a definite tan. This was a man who had spent long hours in the sun and not as a laborer, but as a soldier. And like some soldiers, he’d lost a good deal of weight on campaign and had yet to regain it. His clothes hung just a little loosely, and his eyes burned just a bit fiercely.
Phineas Ryder, late of His Majesty’s Army, stood in front of a man far more powerful and honored than he would ever be. Yet it was he who humbly requested Finn’s presence. Finn watched his host, who sat behind a large and ornately carved desk that likely cost as much as Finn’s annual income.
“Greetings of the season, my lord. What can I do for you?” Finn was well aware that he wasn’t the sort of man that Lord George Townsend, Marquess of Grafton, associated with. What would Grafton want with him, a professional soldier with little income, no title, and a distinctly tarnished name?
