I chuckled despite myself, remembering how mild Fredericka, with a glow in her eyes, scampered up the ladder and placed a favorite volume of poetry on the eighth shelf next to dusty and forgotten tomes of geography, Thomas Paine’sRights of Man, andÉtudes françaises pour enfants.
“Yes, I never heard the end of it. Touching Edward’s books is paramount to sacrilege. Only the closest friends may borrow from him,” I added dryly.
Freddy blushed and ducked her head, her hands suddenly smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her morning gown. “I’ve never been much for poetry and novels, and your brother has always been so keen for such things.” Something wistful colored her voice. “I had ordered him a copy of Walter Scott’sThe Lady of the Lake. I shall have to mail it to him.”
Momentarily distracted by my friend’s sudden embarrassment, I wondered at her interest in Edward. “What of you? You should be glowing over the prospect of new beaus battling for your hand.”
She sighed, and when her gaze met mine, tears glistened beneath the dusky lashes. “I won’t have a season this year. Papa says we simply can’t afford it a second time. He provided my two older sisters with their seasons, and now, with my brothers away, one at college and one at sea, he thinks I ought to marry Mr. Merriweather.”
I knew of Mr. Merriweather. A respectable man, but he sported a set of wooden teeth and he was certainly old enough to be my grandfather.
I sucked in a breath. Unladylike certainly, but I couldn’t deny the rush of anger coursing through me at the news.
To suggest that Freddy consider such terrible options meant finances must truly be dire for my friend.
“Goodness, that’s—that’s simply out of the question,” I spluttered, horrified that my dear friend might be married to an old, crusty gentleman who would control her every single move, just like...
Just like Grandfather.
She smiled, albeit weakly. “I cannot fix Father’s finances—although perhaps this marriage would help—nor can I convince Mother that all will be well. You know how she suffers from those terrible megrims, especially after Father’s investments with a particular venture involving the East India Company went awry. We recently learned that a ship carrying spices and silk cargo went missing in a storm near Madras. Father invested a large sum, thanks to his cohorts at White’s in London. He keeps hoping the ships will return, though each passing week makes that less likely.”
White’s, one of London’s most coveted clubs for men, offered political connections, business dealings, and, of course, a discreet venue for gambling due to the Prince Regent’s latest fashionable vices.
Freddy offered a tremulous smile. “In fact, Father plans to sell our home when he can find a more affordable arrangement. His creditors have proven rather ruthless.”
My voice thickened. “Freddy, I do not want to see you married to that sheepherder, no matter his holdings. You deserve only the best.”
“I keep praying for peace about my future,” Freddy admitted, smoothing a crease in her gown. “But sometimes it feels as if I’m standing at the edge of a cliff and He’s asking me to step forward without showing me where the ground is. I’m not fearless, Kitty. Still ... I’d rather wrestle with Him than walk away.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. It would be rude to argue with such an altruistic statement, yet it seemed too simplistic. Naïve and passive, to be perfectly honest. I couldn’t imagine avoiding action. And therein lay the difference between us—one of many.
Heat flooded my cheeks, for I had come to burden the only person I considered a sister with my troubles, and her situation proved far worse than mine.
When she raised her head, the old sauciness—something she hid from most—emerged. “I daresay I won’t be able to hide books from Mr.Merriweather since he doesn’t care for them. I’ve often wondered what would happen if we did the same trick to your grandfather.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I warned.
She laughed softly. “No, Kit. I wouldn’t have the courage to carry out such insubordination. Your brother was another story altogether.”
My smile faded. Would I be doomed to a loveless marriage just like my sweet friend? A marriage where I would be forced to be Katherine Aurora Grenville, the perfect English rose? Or worse, prevented from searching for my mother, my fate planned and controlled by men?
I wanted more than anything to challenge that very fate just as my friend seemed determined to accept it. As soon as the churlish thought crossed my mind, Grandfather’s warning unfurled within me, slithering like a snake in my belly.
Keep the past hidden. Keep who I am hidden.
Obey without question.
Yet I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—end up like my mother, nor without a voice.
As I rose to take my leave, Freddy walked me to the door. “Spring will be here before we know it,” she murmured. “When you go to London ... it will feel very far. I shall miss you terribly.”
Her words struck like a chill wind. Grandfather had spoken of London as though the decision were already sealed, and though he promised it was only a brief visit, I sensed it would be the beginning of the end. He meant for me to meet my fiancé then, even while Sebastian Sinclair was still half a world away on his six-month voyage from Calcutta.
I forced a smile for Freddy’s sake, but dread knotted tight in my chest—for both our futures.
4:Kitty
The phenomena of nature, especially those that fall under the inspection of the astronomer, are to be viewed, not only with the usual attention to facts as they occur, but with the eye of reason and experience.
