AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The viscount wishes the vowel to be honored,” Mr. Heslop said. “It is a debt the Marquess of Ashworth is honor-bound to fulfill.”
The viscount himself remained silent.
“Papa,” she entreated again. “Mama. Say something.”
Her mother stifled a sob.
“I cannot simply ignore the vowel, my dear,” Papa said. “I don’t know what my infernal father was thinking, but I cannot ignore the fact that the vowel is real. It bears his signature and seal. Honor dictates that I fulfill the obligation of the debt. That being said, however, I cannot force you to do so, Louisa. As I have explained to these gentlemen, you are free to decide the matter for yourself. I have taught you and your brothers to understand your worth. You are my daughter. I trust you. I must leave this in your hands.” He turned back to the window.
A dull weight settled heavily in Louisa’s stomach. Honor, her father had said. Honor was everything to a true gentleman. Duels had been fought; lives had been lost over honor. Despite her parents’ efforts to hide the shameful details of her grandfather from her, Louisa knew her father had dedicated his life to reestablishing the family honor after his own father had so capriciously ruined it. Honor had been bred into her and her brothers from the cradle.
Papa could not ignore the wager or the debt of his father, however ill-conceived and negligent her grandfather’s actions had been. He could not absolve his daughter of the weight of it either.
She herself would have to choose how to proceed.
“Perhaps Lady Louisa wishes to have a few moments to herself,” the viscount said, speaking for the first time. He rose to his feet, clearly expecting the others to take his lead.
Surprisingly, they did.
Her mother wrapped her in a hug. “Oh, my darling girl,” she whispered. “I should never have believed something like this could happen. I am in utter shock.”
When the door finally shut, leaving her alone, Louisa crossed to the window where her father had been standing. The view overlooked a terraced lawn bordered with a hedge of boxwoods. A line of yews in the distance marked the property boundary and offered privacy. How could it look so peaceful and orderly when she felt like she was being torn asunder?
What was she to do?
The debt a gentleman owed another gentleman was a matter of extreme honor. Louisa knew, from listening to her brothers’ conversations, that a gentleman paid his debts to another gentleman, and he did so promptly. To do otherwise was not acceptable. Dishonorable. It was beyond the pale.
Today, her father, the Marquess of Ashworth, known for his hard-won integrity and honor, had been made aware of a debt his father owed—worse, a debt the Marquess of Ashworth owed, regardless of who had held the title when the debt had been incurred—and he could not resolve it and maintain the family honor without it impacting the life of his only daughter.
The existence of the vowel had created a horrible dilemma for him, and he was suffering deeply, for Louisa knew her father loved her. And rather than order her to comply, as many fathers could and would have done as head of the family, he had left the decision entirely to her. He had put his honor, his family’s honor, into her hands.
She moved away from the window and wrapped her arms around her middle, trying to hold back the pain and anxiety she felt. Only last evening, she had been with George at the theater, and he had strolled with her so everyone would understand his intentions toward her and had kissed her in a secluded corner.
How much one’s life could change in less than a day.
