Page 77 of The Vanished

“Of course you can,” Douglas said soothingly, “but the reason I asked Clarissa is because I expect you will be otherwise engaged.”

“But Father⁠—”

Douglas released her hand and raised his in a gesture meant to silence her. “Geneva, it would make me very happy if you and Jesse were to announce your engagement at the New Year’s party. I have spoken to him at length, and he understands where his duty lies. As should you. This is the best possible solution for all involved. Clarissa agrees.”

“But I barely know him,” Geneva protested. “We’ve been acquainted less than a fortnight.”

“Time is of the essence. It would please me if you were to marry as soon as the banns are read, but if I leave you before then, you will need to observe a period of mourning. It is my wish that you limit full mourning to six months. Three months in half-mourning, no more. If you both commit to this course of action, you will forge the bond necessary for a successful marriage in no time.”

“But what if we don’t?” Geneva asked, but she knew it was pointless to argue. This was the solution everyone was hoping for, and she couldn’t afford to refuse. Jesse was perfect on paper, but he was equally suitable in real life, a sentiment her father hurried to express.

“He’s a good man, Genny. He’s intelligent, and kind, and handsome enough to appeal to any young woman. And he gave me his word that he will provide for you all.”

“You mean the staff?”

“How he manages the staff will be up to him. I mean Clarissa and Rose. Gerald had debts, and, although Clarissa managed to pay off the creditors, she will not be able to hold on to her house and maintain the lifestyle she’s accustomed to without a steady income. And Rose will benefit from her time at the finishing school. She’s a good girl, but she can be gauche, and if she’s to make a good match she must acquire polish.” Douglas sighed heavily and patted Geneva’s hand. “I know you have feelings for Rory Sullivan, but he is not the one for you, Geneva. He’s a fine man, but you two come from vastly different worlds, and his faith, which is incompatible with your own, would make it difficult to build a solid foundation.”

“I’ve considered all that, Father,” she said quietly.

“I know you have. You’re a clever girl, but what you don’t realize is that infatuation evaporates very quickly when it comes up against hardship and discrimination. And you will be discriminated against, even in America.”

“How did you⁠—?”

“Sullivan asked me for a reference, and he mentioned his desire to go abroad. I can only assume he’s asked you to go with him.”

Geneva looked away, but not before her father saw the confirmation in her eyes.

“You can’t go, even if you think you can make it work,” Douglas said. “You have a duty to me, to your sister, and to this ancient, noble family. And Honor will need your guidance and support in the coming years.”

“Then why have you made arrangements for her to live with Clarissa?”

“Because by the time she returns from Switzerland, you will hopefully have a child of your own to focus on. You must provide Jesse with a male heir, so that the estate will not pass out of the family when the time comes.”

“And if I refuse?” Geneva asked, her voice flat. But she knew she was just being contrary. She couldn’t refuse, not when her father was practically begging her to say yes, and when she had every reason to agree.

“Geneva, people like us have never married for love. We have a responsibility to both past and future generations. My parents chose your mother, and I proposed to her after a brief courtship. We barely knew each other, but we were committed to the marriage and we were happy. Just as you can be happy with Jesse.”

“The world is changing, Father. Since the war, more people are choosing to forge their own paths.”

Douglas gave her a pitying look. “For a noblewoman, there’s only ever one path. To marry and have children. You can marry an earl and assure your place in society, or you can marry an Irish peasant and spend the rest of your life scrounging for both money and respect.”

“Why would we have to scrounge for money? Rory can work.”

“Yes, he can, and he will, because you will get no money from me if you marry him. Not even a nominal sum. You will be cut off without a penny. And I have a feeling your beau will lose interest very quickly when he finds out you will bring no money to the marriage and he will not have anything to invest in whatever venture he thinks he will establish.”

“I never knew you to be cruel, Father,” Geneva said. If before she’d felt sad and trapped by her responsibilities, now she felt angry.

Her father’s gaze softened. “Genny, I love you with all my heart, and I only want the best for you. You’re young and idealistic, and you think you can overcome any obstacle. But life is hard and unforgiving. And once you abandon your childish fantasies and come around to the idea of marrying Jesse, you will be happy. You will learn to love each other, and you will have a wonderful life and raise beautiful children, who will walk through life with their heads held high.”

“Do I have any say in my life at all?” Geneva asked warily. She had no idea why she was still fighting, but something inside her refused to surrender. If she married Jesse, it had to be on her own terms, not because she was ordered to do so.

“Yes, you do,” her father replied. “You can refuse, but if you do, Honor will marry Jesse as soon as she turns eighteen.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to marry Jesse?”

“Oh, she will,” Douglas replied confidently. “As much as she might like to go to Switzerland with Rose, she would much rather be the lady of the house with a handsome husband on her arm.” He smiled mirthlessly. “Your sister is more pragmatic than you realize.”

As much as Geneva wanted to deny it, she knew Douglas was right. Honor would jump at the chance to marry Jesse and would see the match as the ultimate triumph, since she would become a countess at eighteen and completely bypass the uncertainty and humiliation of a London Season, where she would be paraded in front of men who would judge her on the size of her fortune. Geneva had never had a Season, since she had turned eighteen right after the armistice and, having so recently lost his wife and son, Douglas’s mind hadn’t been on parties. She had been relieved at the time, but now she wished she’d had a Season after all. She might have been married by now, with a son to inherit the estate. How much simpler life would have been.