“Stop it.” Mama arched a single eyebrow. “I might cast up my accounts.”
“Well, you have your tastes. I have mine. But I’m looking forward to meeting potential suitors.”
“Angeline—”
“I want to marry for love. I want a husband I truly love and who loves me back. No marriage of convenience. And someone who wants children. I’d love a big family.”
“Angeline!” Mama raised her voice. “Mr. Oscar North, the man I want to introduce you to, isn’t and will never, ever be your suitor, not as long as I breathe, and if I were dead, I’d become a ghost and haunt his house to prevent him from courting you.”
“Do you have to be so dramatic?” Angeline scoffed. “I don’t understand.”
“He saw you a few days ago walking in the park with me. He didn’t stop to chat because he was in a hurry, but your beauty struck him.”
It was Angeline’s turn to arch her eyebrow. She didn’t consider herself unattractive, but a man who got struck by her beauty with one passing glance at her sounded suspicious, to say the least. Not to mention that even those men who’d shown an interest in her had quickly changed their minds when they’d seen her scar on her arm left by the burn. Comments like ‘What’s that thing? Is it contagious? Can’t you take it off?’ still echoed in her ears.
Angeline stared at her mother. “Is he one of your gentlemen?”
“Since you ask, yes. I’ve never blackmailed him, though, and our liaison is over.”
“That’s a relief. So he glanced at me. And?” she asked.
“He wants to meet you.” Mama shrugged.
“And?” she prompted.
“If he likes you, he proposes to…” The rest of the sentence was gibberish so quickly her mother spoke.
Angeline didn’t understand a single word. “What? Speak English. Please.”
Mama released a long breath. “He would like you to become his mistress.”
She couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Mistress?”
“For one night only. Don’t worry.” Mama waved a hand as if what she’d said didn’t matter.
“Don’t worry?” Angeline shouted. “What have you done? What did you tell him? I swear I’ll throw myself out of this carriage right this instant if you made a deal with Mr. North about my body.”
Mama opened her mouth, but she was cut off.
“Madam?” the driver said from the box. “Is everything all right?”
“Lower your voice.” Mama turned towards the window. “All fine, thank you, Smith.”
“Nothing is fine. How could you?” She was so angry she couldn’t talk without stuttering. “You sold me. My virginity.”
“Now, who’s being dramatic? Stop it, for goodness’s sake,” Mama hissed.
“I can’t breathe.” She gasped, a hand on her heaving chest. Even her sight darkened at the edges.
“You ninny. Stop this nonsense and listen to me before you have a fit.” Mama sat next to her and gave her a light slap on the back. As if selling her daughter’s virginity to a stranger weren’t enough.
The slap wasn’t strong, but Angeline had to admit she breathed a little better. Her wrath was intact though. She shook with outrage.
Mama soothed the spot she’d slapped. “I don’t want that man’s dirty hands on you, and I swear on my honour?—”
“Choose something else to swear on.”
“He won’t have a tumble with you, not him, not anyone else you don’t choose,” Mama said with a fierceness that was too honest not to be taken seriously. “Unless you fancy him, of course. In that case, it’s your choice.”
