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“I do not understand why you had to subject the girls to such a shocking statement.” Martha sniffed, folding her hands carefully in her lap. “So, you have given us all an ultimatum and wish to see me destitute - Embarrass me in front of my daughters, so they know who to blame when they have no home!”
Turning in shame, Francis recanted, “I did not mean to come across so harsh.”
“But you meant it!”
He resumed stroking his mustache and pacing. “Yes, well. I do, Martha. You have given me no choice.”
“There are plenty of other choices!” Martha argued. “You are not married, Francis, and you are now the Viscount of Rackliff in title. You could choose to support us, without demanding my hand in return.”
Tired to listening to her uncle berate her poor mother, Lydia piped in, “We will find suitors, Uncle.”
“No one spoke to you,” he snapped.
Lydia and Trinity exchanged shrugs, puzzled over their uncle’s short temper, an exchange that their mother noted with a hard look at them both.
“Francis, I do believe you are being a bit extreme,” Martha said.
“No, I think not. You have taken advantage of my hospitality these past few years, knowing full well the depth of my feelings for you. I will not tolerate it any longer!”
His monologue was interrupted by the servants bringing in refreshments. The girls flocked to the trays, momentarily distracted from the tense argument. Francis paced, casting side glances at the noise the girls made, in annoyance. Martha sat calmly still, giving Francis her full attention.
“Francis, you’ve only just arrived from the country, please take some refreshments,” she coaxed.
“I do not need anything,” he protested, waving his hand. “Pray tell me, what do you hope will happen? If just one of your girls secures a proposal this Season, could you afford a second Season to see the rest married?”
“They will all find matches,” Martha affirmed, her back stiffening. “Further, their father made a decent allowance for each of them, once they are wed, to use as they see fit.”
Francis scoffed dramatically, drawing Lydia away from the cakes and sandwiches. “You mean to say, you are counting on your girls to continue to provide for you with their dowries?”
“Yes, we’ve discussed it extensively. You seem not to understand how close we are as a family,” Martha argued.
Starting to get annoyed with her uncle, Lydia felt it necessary to interject. Before she could, though, he continued his tirade.
“My understanding is that they have been wallflowers all Season long, hardly securing a first set of dances with any suitor at all, let alone a second. How, then, do you insist that all of them will find matches?”
“Lydia has attracted plenty of suitors. With her securing an advantageous match, the rest of the girls will quickly receive proposals as well,” Martha told him.
Realizing that Lydia was watching them, Francis turned to look her up and down, unconvinced. “While you may not be homely, your lack of charm makes me quite skeptical.”
Extremely insulted, Lydia realized that she could not be polite any longer.
“I’m incredibly charming!” she cried, “…and I’ve had plenty of suitors this season!”
When he rolled his eyes and turned back to her mother, Lydia interrupted again, angry that he dared to dismiss her.
“I have had a proposal!” she blurted.
Her outburst caused everyone in the room to stare at her. Francis turned towards her with an eyebrow raised.
“How am I just hearing of this?” he asked. He motioned to her mother. “We have been discussing your prospects all afternoon and you did not think it pertinent to tell me?”
Turning to Martha, he demanded, “Did you know of this?”
“No!” Lydia cried. “No, I hadn’t told anyone yet.”
With all eyes on her, she clutched her hands in front of her, panicking.
“Do go on,” Francis prompted.
