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“When Ophelia marries, her wealth will become her husband’s. Well, George is in need of a wife, is he not? Gertrude, do you not see?” she said, moving closer to Gertrude’s side. “My son is in need of a wife.”
Gertrude didn’t answer for a minute. She stared at her sister, her lips parting, as realisation dawned.
“If they were to marry, then her money would belong to the family.” Harriet purposefully gestured to Gertrude. “You would have your money back, Gertrude. You would have your home in Cheltenham.”
“I would.” Gertrude leapt to her feet, overtaken by the idea. “Oh my goodness, Harriet, that might just work. George would automatically have the money, then he could give it to me. Do you think he would marry her?”
“Do I?” Harriet laughed. “George has a wandering eye. He finds beauty in most women I struggle to find beauty in at all, but when it comes to marriage…” She hesitated, her smile widening. “He will happily marry for money, especially if I tell him it is a good idea.”
Gertrude had noticed many times before how George had a habit of doing just what his mother told him.
“My goodness, this might just work. Oh, Harriet! You may have saved me yet.” She returned to the chaise longue. “How are we to begin, though? What must be done? They have not met for months. They must be introduced again.”
“And they will be.” Harriet nodded, clearly with a resolution in mind. “I have been invited by Lady Canning to a ball this Saturday. George will naturally be there, and I am sure I can write to Lady Canning to ask her to extend the invitation to you and Ophelia. At the ball, they can be introduced again.”
“Oh, Harriet. You are quite the matchmaker!” Gertrude clapped her hands together, feeling invigorated by their plan.
I will not be parted from Oliver’s money, after all.
***
“Your horse is leaning to the left,” Harrison observed as he trailed behind Elliot through Hyde Park. Elliot didn’t bother looking back to catch Harrison’s eye, for he knew where his friend was going with it. “He needs reshoeing.”
“He does, but I can’t afford it.”
“Do you have another horse?”
“What do you think?” Elliot asked, his tone coming out a bit snappish. Harrison rode harder, catching up with Elliot before waving his hand at him. The suddenness of the movement prompted Elliot to slow the gallop of his horse, the better to speak to his friend. “I’m sorry. That was harsher than I meant it to be.”
“I’m hardly going to take offence so easily.” Harrison shrugged, not affected by it. “Tell me instead how you and your sister are faring. That is what I truly wish to talk about, rather than horses.”
“Ah, you noticed my preoccupation with talking of horses, then?” Elliot asked with a wry smile.
“I might have noticed you were trying to keep the conversation in a certain direction. Strangely enough, I know you well indeed by now. I probably know your behaviour as well as you know yourself.”
“That’s disconcerting,” Elliot muttered quietly. He didn’t like the idea that someone could judge his every thought, even Harrison.
“Tell me the truth, how are you and your sister?”
“We have been better. My sister has tried these last few months to be happy with her rather more reserved and restricted life, but her moods are as obvious to me as mine are to you, it seems.” He shook his head, thinking of the conversation he’d had with Grace the night before.
She had grown up accustomed to wealth and what money could afford. She was not exactly spoiled, but this change was a wrench for her, and one she was struggling to cope with. The night before she had bemoaned the emptiness of the rooms, thanks to Elliot selling so much to make some money. She had come to practice the pianoforte, only for Elliot to tell her they would have to sell that soon, too.
Grace had regressed to her childish behaviour and stormed off to her bedchamber, where she only talked to her maid thereafter. No amount of promises Elliot offered would draw her out of the chamber again that night.
“I cannot go on like this, Harrison, and neither can Grace.” Elliot kept thinking of all the numbers he’d seen scrawled in his father’s ledgers. “I have paid some of the money back, but it has bankrupted us to do it, and we have barely anything left to sell. The death tax is due in a month. I could sell the townhouse to do it, but—”
“But then where would you live?” Harrison asked, his voice pitching high.
“You see my dilemma.” Elliot sighed with the words. Together, they turned their horses down another path through the park. Now, they were not so alone.
Around them in the park was a myriad of wealthy families. Some gentlemen escorted finely dressed ladies on their arms, as other ladies gestured to the newly sprung flowers of spring with lace parasols and embroidered fans. It all seemed rather like a nonsensical display to Elliot. The people here were flaunting their wealth, rather than going for a walk.
Thetonare just like my parents. Who cares for the real world when you can spend lavishly and put on an ostentatious display, eh?
“Try not to wrinkle your nose so much, Elliot.” Harrison drew his horse near Elliot’s and bumped his leg. “Thetonwill notice your hatred of them soon enough.”
“Let them notice. What do I care for their good opinion?”
