“She’s out with Miss Pipperly,” Celia answered. “Becoming more popular by the day.”
“Hm.” Clarence looked thoughtful, not immediately dismissing the topic with an ironic remark. “Perhaps I will call on her next week.”
“She would be delighted to see you,” Celia said. She had no doubts that Henrietta would be good for her brother.
“After the other matters are dealt with,” Clarence muttered as they walked to the parlor.
Celia asked him to fix the curtain which was too high for her to reach, passed the gingerbread, and poured his tea just the way he liked it. Before she could get him to chuckle, Clarence spread his hands on his knees and drew a deep breath.
“It is time for you to marry Lord Edmund,” he declared.
Celia was unprepared for a direct assault. She poured tea over the side of her cup, cried out, and scurried for a rag.
Clarence plowed on. “He was in quite the mood, but I convinced him you were merely taken with maidenly nerves.”
“It’s not maidenly nerves!” Celia feared she was unconvincing, given that she was kneeling on the floor to mop up tea. Her hands were indeed shaking with nerves, but they were notmaidenlynerves.
“He’ll come back to offer again, and this time I expect you to accept him.”
“But I don’t wish to accept him!” With the Cu Sidhe baring their teeth, Celia lost her sweetness and shyness both. “I don’t wish to marry him at all!”
“This is not about what you wish or do not wish!”
Clarence’s flare of temper made it easier, like they were merely children again. Way back, a thousand years ago, child-Celia had expressed her tenacity in words. It was only after her mother’s riding accident that it had all coiled inside, only then that Celia had learned to conserve every flare of energy for what mattered the most.
She finished wiping the wooden scrolls, folded the rag, and set it aside. “I believe it is what matters. Selecting a husband is a woman’s one opportunity to set her course in life, Clarence, and the impact her life can have on the whole world.”
Celia took a shuddering breath, pleased with how fine Rose’s words sounded.
Clarence made a dismissive gesture. “Yes, yes, but Lord Edmund is a good opportunity. I care for you, Celia. I have arranged all this for your own benefit.”
Celia poured another cup of tea, watching the stream carefully. “I understand the finances, but what sort of social opportunity? Lord Edmund is not known to theton, and…” She was flipping through Mr. Hughes’s words, now, but most of the others would only irritate her brother. His most important phrase was flashing in her mind:what indication has he ever given you that he would let you spend one penny on your cousins. Celia could not afford to lose this argument.
“You must marry Lord Edmund.” Clarence sounded sullen, lips pursed, shoulders hunched. “He is my friend, I know more about this than you do. I insist.”
“I have tried, and I wish the best for him, really I do.” Celia fluttered a smile. “But we do not suit. We really do not.”
“You suit him just fine—”
“Is that all that matters? To you? My own brother?”
“Oh, Celia, you make this sound like some great tragedy!” Clarence shook his head, tight. “You are the kindest, most agreeable, most capable woman in Britain. Once you marry him, you shall get used to his mannerisms. And meanwhile, you shall manage his house and his invitations, and convince him to buy aplace in London, and next year he will do much better in Town. And meanwhile—don’t you shake your head at me!—you shall fall quite in love with him, because you love everyone, Celia. You are good at loving.”
Celia gaped at him. Was this all that her fraternal dedication had meant to him—not that she loved him, particularly, but that she could love anyone?
“I don’t believe it will be like that,” Celia said, realizing she was speaking Irish. “I don’t wish to marry him. I don’t.”
“You must trust me.” Clarence spoke in English.
“I do trust you, but I know my own feelings! What about Mr. Cade? Or Penrose?”
“Are they courting you, Celia? Are they serious?”
Their argument was limping now, half in each language.
“Oh yes! Mr. Penrose sends flowers every day, and I am sure Mr. Cade is on the verge of speaking with you!”
Clarence bit his lip, considering. “If he does speak to me, that will change the situation. I will see what he can offer and weigh that against Lord Edmund’s proposal.”
