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As she held and rocked her through her sobs, Harriett’s thoughts retreated.
William, how I wish you were here...
One
Harriett gazed at the household ledger and tried to concentrate. “Sugar costs three shillings less than it did last year, so that can be subtracted from here and added there.” She dipped her pen and made the adjustment.
The gowns Papa had ordered for Arabella prior to her visiting Elizabeth were now being altered to fit Catherine, who was, thankfully, of nearly the same height but smaller of frame. Though nowhere near as expensive as ordering an entirely new set of clothes, it had still cost money they didn’t really have to spare. And there was the party to plan, as well.
“Another unanticipated expense,” she sighed, her pen hovering over the lengthening column. The guest list was very select—Papa’s idea. All the eligible young men had been invited, of course, but only a few of Cat’s friends. Specifically, the plainer ones. Cat would be the most beautiful girl present, and Papa would cast her like bait into a crowded stock pond in hope of a bite.
Harriet grimaced. Ostensibly, it was her party, too. A few older unwed gentlemen had been invited to balance out the list on her behalf, though in truth she knew they would only have eyes for her sister. Which suited her just fine.
She crossed out the amount budgeted for beef and lowered it. Once a week was plenty. They could make do with more poultry and fish. She would tell Cook to plan for this.
Cat would be sixteen in a few weeks. Papa had planned to wait until she was seventeen before presenting her, but that was no longer an option. It was imperative she marry as quickly as possible.
Harriett altered more numbers. There would be no spirits in the house this Season save Papa’s libations, what was necessary for cooking, and what was needed for the party. She lowered the amount listed for her own clothing allowance, as well, forcing the bottom line to balance.
She already had new gowns coming. The seamstress had not yet cut the cloth for two of the ones ordered for Arabella when Papa had informed her of his daughter’s ‘illness’ and the change in plans. The woman had been unwilling to refund the money he’d paid her for the work, so he’d commissioned them for Harriett instead.
With luck, those and her old ones would suffice. She’d been very fortunate. Though they’d been pronounced outdated and therefore unsuitable to wear in public, they’d been in excellent condition and still fit her. Two years ago those gowns had been the height of fashion, but no more. Even now, they were being brought up to date. More money spent.
Laying aside her pen, she stared at the neat figures on the page. Papa expected her to find a husband, but she didn’t feel very enthusiastic about the prospect of doing so.
William...
The door burst open and Catherine bounced into the room wearing a wild smile. “Harriett! Have you heard the news? The Earl of Winchilsea has accepted our invitation!”
“That’s lovely, Cat.” She smiled. Though worried for Arabella, who’d been sent into seclusion to convalesce, Cat had been ecstatic over being allowed to take her place.
“I’m going to bag his nephew,” announced her sister, her eyes sparkling.
“You’ve not even seen the man yet, much less talked to him,” Harriett replied with a laugh.
“That doesn’t matter.” Cat tossed her curls. “He’s rich and he’s going to be an earl. If I marry him, we’re all saved.”
Harriett’s heart stopped. “Saved?”
“Yes, saved,” said her sister with a frown. “Just think. If I catch him, we’ll eat beef and oranges every day. And I’ll make one of his friends marry you, and another shall marry Arabella—when she returns, poor thing.”
Her heart began beating again. “Well, you must catch him first.”
“Oh, I shall,” said Cat, sticking out her chin. “I shall make myself the most beautiful, the most charming cr
eature he has ever met. He’ll have no choice but to fall hopelessly in love with me and beg me to marry him.”
Holding back laughter, Harriett forced a solemn expression. Cat was quite serious about this, and it wouldn’t do to dampen her spirit. “I hope you’re right, dear,” she said, giving her a pat on the hand. “I shall certainly do everything in my power to help you achieve your ambitions.”
Cat’s face softened. “I know you’re not looking forward to it, Harriett, but really, you must make an effort for yourself, as well. William is gone.”
It still stung. “It’s only been—”
“It’s been well over a year and you’ve yet to shed your weeds. I’m surprised Papa has allowed you to wear black this long. You should have been in half-mourning months ago. I, for one, shall be glad to see you don some color again.”
Harriett stared back at her, unwilling to say anything.
“Life goes on, Harriett. William wouldn’t want you to wither away and become an old maid because of his untimely death.”
