Page 64
“I wouldn’t dream of telling you how to conduct your life—”
“But you will,” said Lavinia.
“You have a reputation to uphold,” he said.
“So I’m acutely aware.”
He cleared his throat. “On the other hand, you could do worse than Mr. Wark. He is your landlord, after all.”
Lavinia’s eyebrows jumped. “Are you suggesting that I conduct an affair with Mr. Wark in exchange for his forgiving the rent money?”
“What? No!” Caleb sputtered. “I’m suggesting you marry the man.”
Lavinia began to laugh.
“I don’t see what’s so absurd about the suggestion,” her brother grouched. “It isn’t as though you haven’t thought about it before. If you married him, you’d never have to work again,” her brother pressed.
“I like working! It’s the one thing in my life that’s been entirely mine.”
“Mr. Wark could elevate your situation,” said her brother.
“You’re starting to sound like Mamma,” she said.
“I know you resent her pushing you into marrying Alistair, but was it so wrong for her to want what was best for your future?” he asked.
“No,” she said, slashing her hand through the air to cut the conversation dead where it stood. “You weren’t there, Caleb. You were off playing at being a wealthy wastrel in Edinburgh while I was at home with my grief. You don’t have the right to tell me how to feel about that time.”
“Mamma and Papa only wanted what was best for you.”
“Did they though? They never asked me if I wanted a husband. I never said yes to any proposal.”
They stole my chance at happiness and you were nowhere to be seen, she wanted to shout. Describing it all to Andrew less than an hour ago had broken her heart all over again. They could’ve had a chance—a real chance at love—but instead she’d seen what it could be like when the man she loved turned against her. He’d spent so long believing in her betrayal, she could hardly have hoped for his forgiveness let alone a reconciliation. Yet hadn’t that been what this night was about? It felt like a renewal, a rebirth, a second chance.
“I was sorry when we thought Andrew died too,” said Caleb. “You weren’t the only one who was upset.”
But I was the one who loved him.
“He’s here,” she said, her voice flat.
“What?”
“He’s here in Edinburgh.”
Caleb’s expression sharpened. “Is that where you were? Slumming with a ferryman’s son?”
It took just three steps for Lavinia to cross the gap to her brother’s chair. Her cloak slipped a little on her shoulders when she leaned down, bringing her face close to his. “When our parents died, I promised myself that I would take care of you because that is what family does for one another. However, I don’t have to endure your complaints or give you money every time you ask. I also don’t have to indulge you coming to my home at all hours and passing judgment on how I choose to live my life. I have been nothing but tolerant for years, but if you are ever disrespectful of Andrew to me again, you may find yourself someone else to pay off your debts.”
Caleb’s mouth worked noiselessly several times until finally he managed to croak out, “Come now, Livy. You know I can be a cad sometimes. I was only joking.”
“I’m going to bed to get some sleep,” Lavinia announced, straightening. “And from now on, if you come to this house, you will be expected to work. You can begin by helping Kelsie cut out patterns.”
“Cut out patterns,” her brother repeated, dumbstruck.
“That’s where Kelsie began her apprenticeship, and that is where you’ll start yours. No one in this house eats unless they also work.”
Lavinia left her brother sitting there, staring into the faintly glowing stove and looking more like a man old before his time than ever.
Lavinia slept for a few hours that morning, not rising until nine—an extraordinarily late hour for a woman who usually took advantage of the peace of the morning to review accounts and appointments and make sure she was ready for the day, but she felt it was her due. When she awoke, she stretched long and lithe on the soft sheets of her bed, a delicious throb between her legs and the tenderness of her nipples reminding her of Andrew.
