“His possessive stare bores into me and it makes me uncomfortable.”
“He is just admiring you.”
“It is more than that,” Georgie said. “He doesn’t value my opinion.”
“Why should he?”
Georgie moved to sit on the upholstered armchair facing the desk, then changed her mind and stood behind it instead. “I would like my husband to appreciate my mind.”
“That would be trivial,” Charles remarked. “Women have one duty, and that is to bear heirs.”
“What of love?”
Charles scoffed. “Love?” he said. “That is a useless emotion.”
“Mother and Father loved each other,” Georgie contested.
“Yes, and where did it get them?” Charles demanded. “Father became a shell of the man he once was after Mother died.”
“He was grieving for her.”
“He was weak, and he didn’t focus on what was truly important.”
“Which was?”
Charles stood and leaned forward over the desk. “Making sure our estate was profitable. If Father hadn’t died when he did, we might have lost everything.”
Georgie’s brows wrinkled. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was,” Charles said. “It takes hard work to run an estate, and Father was too busy staring at Mother’s portrait, focusing entirely too much on his past.”
“You are being unfair to him.”
“I am not. You are just a woman and cannot possibly understand the complexities of running an estate.”
“You could teach me.”
Charles guffawed. “Why would I do that?” he asked. “That is like asking a pig to provide me with milk.”
Georgie tensed. “It is hardly the same.”
“It is just as ludicrous,” Charles responded. “You spend your days in useless pursuits; nothing you do is of real importance.”
“I can do more with my life. I just need to be given the opportunity.”
Charles shook his head. “Father and Mother indulged you far too much. You have a sense of grandeur about you that I find disconcerting.”
“Father thought it was important that I know my own mind.”
“Well, Father is not here,” Charles said, “is he?”
Georgie grew silent. “I wish he was,” she murmured.
Charles walked around the desk and came to stand in front of her. “You will do your duty and marry Lord Ransdale.”
“I will not.”
“I beg your pardon?” Charles asked, his tone taking on an edge.
