“Generous?” Eliza repeated. “About what?”
Her cheeks reddening with the reminder of what Matthew had done to her the night before, Catherine dipped her head. Instead of mentioning their bout of lovemaking, she said, “He offered me a salon in his townhouse for me to use as an office. For my own publishing company.”
“What’s this?”
Catherine and Eliza both inhaled sharply, their attentions darting to the parlor door. Cornelius stood there, fully dressed and looking dapper as usual.
“Father,” Catherine said, coming to her feet.
“Good morning, Cornelius,” Eliza said happily. “Would you like a cup of tea?”
“None for me,” he said, making his way towards them until he was standing in front of Catherine. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “I, um, apologize for not having gone home last night. I didn’t mean to cause you to undo worry.”
“The snow. Yes, I know,” Catherine said. “I’m happy to see you are safe,” she added.
“I do hope you didn’t come here by way of a hackney,” he said, waiting until they had retaken their seats before he settled into an upholstered chair.
“I didn’t. Lord Wingfield was kind enough to bring me here in his town coach.”
“Lord Wingfield?” His face screwed into one of confusion.
“The man who Mrs. Dove-Lyon arranged for me to meet,” she clarified. “Surely she told you, since you are the one who arranged for her services.” Churlishness sounded in her voice.
“I wasn’t aware she had already made a match,” he claimed, although his look of guilt was evident.
“Other than the fact that he’s an earl, he’s quite perfect for me,” she went on. “Why, I would not have expected a potential husband to be so accepting of my plan to start to my own publishing company.”
“About that—”
“With an office here in London as well as in Berkshire,” she continued, allowing spite to sound in her voice.
“But… but why?” he asked in dismay.
“You’ve made it very apparent you have no intention of hiring me at Kingston Publishing, and you’re to marry my best friend with the hope of siring an heir who will inherit the company. Where does that leave me?” she asked rhetorically.
“I never said you weren’t going to inherit the company,” he countered.
Catherine blinked. “Then why haven’t you hired me?”
“You don’t need work there to know how to do what I do as a publisher,” he claimed. “Do you honestly think I know everyone’s jobs? How to do their duties?”
Surprised, she scoffed. “Yes.”
He chuckled softly. “My darling daughter, I do not,” he stated. “The people in those positions have had them for years. Should they ever leave my employ, I will simply hire a replacement who already knows how to do their position.”
Catherine and Eliza exchanged quick glances. “What if I don’t wish to wait?” she asked. “What if… what if Iwantto start my own company?”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I suppose it would be up to your husband.”
Gasping softly, Catherine once again glanced over at Eliza. “What of my marriage portion?” she challenged.
“Well, I expect to sign a marriage contract with whomever asks me for your hand in marriage.” He pulled a calling card out of his waistcoat pocket. “Mayhap as soon as this afternoon,” he added thoughtfully.
“What?” Catherine asked in surprise.
“Which is why I came to find you, my dearest.” He turned his attention on Eliza. “My sweet, I fear I must leave you now. It seems I have a contract I need to draw up prior to three o’clock.”
Eliza moued. “You’ll return for dinner tonight, though, won’t you?”
