Chapter 1 #2
‘“If you have matters to discuss, Uncle, then they can wait. I do not think it is proper to discuss at the funeral,” she said.
It was a small glimpse of what her life was to be like moving forward.
Being the oldest, she had to be the one who takes on difficult conversations and represents the interests of her sisters.
Edward’s smile widened fractionally, and he passed an assessing gaze over her frame.
“You are rather mindful of propriety,” he muttered. “Your father would be pleased.”
“As if you would know,” Augusta snapped. “You spent half his life ridiculing him behind his back.”
There was a small silence that followed. Surely, Charity would never have been able to answer back in this manner. Augusta’s face flushed the moment the words were out, as if she, too, realized she had gone too far.
“Grief makes young ladies bold,” Edward replied, impassively. “And boldness, in young ladies, is often mistaken for strength.”
“You should not assume us weak,” Augusta continued. “I know you wish to, as it stands to your benefit. But it would indeed be an error on your part.”
“What is it you wish to say?” Charity asked, stepping forward to place herself between the two. She felt a responsibility to protect her sister, and did not trust her uncle to have their best interests at heart.
Edward exhaled, as though he had been forced to deal with children.
“Very well,” he said. “As you know, the law is not kind to young women who inherit. Fortunes must be protected, and debts must be managed. And three unmarried girls cannot possibly be expected to handle such burdens alone.”
“We have solicitors,” Charity replied. It was not something that she had a lot of knowledge of, but she was aware of the basic facts.
“Solicitors who will take their fees and offer advice,” Edward replied, and it looked as though he was stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “But advice is not guardianship.”
“You must speak clearly,” Charity said, her own patience wearing thin. Her uncle had come with an agenda, that much was blatant.
“Money attracts opportunists, Charity,” he paused to let the weight of his words settle. “It attracts men who will flatter you and ruin you, and once you are ruined, you will discover how quickly polite society turns its back.”
“What does ruined mean?” Matilda’s small voice piped up, frightened.
“It means,” Edward said softly, “that your future becomes uncertain, little one, and uncertainty is the worst thing for a girl.”
“Do not frighten her.” Charity’s stomach clenched, but the wave of protectiveness that washed over her could not be ignored.
She would never let her sisters come into harm's way.
“I am not frightening her. I am educating her,” he said. “You should not misunderstand me.” Once again, he was posing himself to be an ally when Charity’s instinct vehemently rejected that stance.
“How noble of you,” Augusta said sardonically. Edward ignored Augusta and looked at Charity.
“Your father’s title is gone,” he said. “His estate passes as the law dictates. But the fortune, those remain in the family through you girls, and therefore it falls to the closest male guardian to ensure it is not squandered or stolen.”
“And you mean to be that guardian?”
Edward’s smile warmed, as though Charity had finally said something sensible.
“Yes,” he replied simply. “I will take care of you. All three of you. You may rest assured that you will not be left to flounder.”
“We do not want your care,” Augusta said.
“Want has little to do with it, my dear,” Edward’s eyes narrowed, dismissively.
“We are speaking about practicalities at this moment, and besides, you should not interrupt when two adults are speaking. I shall teach you that, in due time. It seems that there are a lot of behavioral issues that persist.”
Charity felt Matilda press into her side again, and she knew that she could not let him get away with saying anything that came into his mind.
“We are grateful for your concern,” Charity said, “But today is not for these discussions.”
“You would be making a grave mistake if you delay. Because if I do not take control now, others will. There will be men who come sniffing around you, who will see your beauty and your wealth and decide you are prey.”
“How dare you speak of her like that?” Augusta’s voice sharpened instantly.
“The world speaks of women like that, whether we acknowledge it or not. Perhaps it is time that you step into the real world, dearest,” Edward lifted one shoulder in a mild shrug.
Charity’s fingers tightened around the rosary cross. She forced herself not to show how much she hated this.
Patience, she told herself. It was her most cherished virtue, and it had gotten her through difficult times in her life.
“Speak plainly, Uncle,” she cleared her throat. “If you wish to dismiss my request, then the second most courteous thing would be to not make me guess.”
“Very well,” he said. “Plainly, you must marry. You are four-and-twenty, and the eldest. And now, without your parents, you must secure your sisters’ safety and your own position. Marriage is the only respectable solution.”
Respectable solution. Charity shuddered to think what the alternative must be.
“We are in mourning,” Augusta said. She was not even yet twenty, and yet already had so much courage that she could step up to her uncle on Charity’s behalf.
“And I am willing to honor that,” he said. “Six months of proper mourning, away from London’s curiosity, if you like, and then we shall speak again.”
“We will speak never,” Augusta’s voice rose.
Edward’s eyes flicked to Augusta, and for a moment his pleasant mask thinned, revealing a flash of irritation.
“You will do what you are told,” he said quietly. “After the mourning period ends, I will present you with the match I have selected, and we will proceed.”
Charity held his gaze. “And if I refuse?”
Edward’s smile widened, as if he was amused by the idea of defiance from someone he already considered trapped.
Poor little orphan girls.
“You will not refuse, but I suspect that I will not need to force you either. You will do what is required to keep you girls safe.”
Charity felt Augusta’s hand clutch her arm.
“Six months?”
“That is more than enough time for you to come to terms with your parents’ passing. And then you will be betrothed.”
The earth beside them looked suddenly too dark, and once again her fingers tightened on the rosary cross until the edges bit her skin.
The realization finally occurred to Charity that her uncle was not speaking in abstracts. In fact, she was certain now that he must have already chosen someone for her.
“Who? Who have you chosen?”
Edward’s smile turned almost triumphant, and he leaned in just slightly.
“We do not need to worry about that right now. It shall be sorted out in due time,” he said, being deliberately vague.
Matilda’s fingers clenched painfully around Charity’s hand. “Charity?” But Charity appeared to have been startled into shock.
Edward straightened, satisfied, as though the matter were settled at last, and he offered Charity a small, courtly bow that might have been respectful if it did not feel like a chain.
“We will speak again after mourning,” he said pleasantly. “But I wished you to have time to grow accustomed to the idea, because I find young ladies are far more obedient when they believe they have chosen.”
He turned, beginning to walk away, and then paused as though remembering something.
“Oh,” Edward added, glancing back with a smile that did not reach his eyes, “do try not to cause a scene, my dear. It would be terribly unfortunate if gossip began before you even made it to the altar.”
And with that, he left them standing there to reconcile with that he had just told them.
Augusta’s voice shook, “He cannot do this to you.”
Charity stared after Edward’s retreating figure, her fingers locked around the cross at her throat. For the first time, Charity understood that her parents’ deaths were not the end of her old life, but rather they were the beginning of a new captivity.
“He can try,” Charity said at last.
“That’s all you have to say?” Augusta turned on her.
“What do you want me to say?” Charity asked, still watching Edward’s back. “That he is wrong? Saying it does not change what he intends.”
“Then what do we do?” Augusta’s eyes were bright with tears, and it broke Charity’s heart to see her in this state.
“We do not decide anything today,” she said finally. The most important thing was to clear her mind and then get a better understanding of the situation.
“But he said….”
“I heard him,” Charity cut in, and immediately softened her tone. “I heard every word. But we are not going to stand in this churchyard and fight about it.”
“Are you going to marry soon?” Matilda looked up at them, confused.
“That is not something you need to worry about,” Charity said.
“But Uncle said you must,” Matilda’s forehead creased.
Charity crouched slightly so she was closer to Matilda’s height. “Uncle says many things,” she said carefully. “He does not always get what he wants.”
“But… will you go away?” Matilda’s eyes searched her face.
“No,” Charity said at once and took Matilda’s small hand in both of hers. “Listen to me, I am not leaving you. You and Augusta are with me.”
Augusta’s mouth tightened at the words, and Charity understood why. She was old enough to know the world did not always care what Charity wanted, and they were orphan girls now. Still, Augusta leaned down and brushed Matilda’s hair back into place.
“You’re not losing her,” she told Matilda.
“I don’t like Uncle,” Matilda sniffed.
“I don’t think anyone asked you to,” Augusta muttered.
“Augusta,” Charity warned softly.
“I’m fine,” Augusta said, looking away.
She was not fine, and Charity could see it clearly. Charity straightened again, taking Matilda’s hand firmly, but before they could head to their carriage, Temperance Hosmer appeared at their side.
She was one of her friends from the nunnery.