Chapter 5
“You have gone too far, Damien!” Simon said angrily.
Damien laughed. “You are too timid, Simon.”
Maria had left the house, and Simon had just returned from his mission of mercy to the orphanage. He had found Damien walking in the woods to the south of his house, striding through undergrowth with a cane of ash that was almost a quarterstaff.
“Too timid to demand marriage from a girl assaulted by ruffians and injured to boot. That is not how gentlemen are supposed to behave!”
“But then, as the world believes, I am not a gentleman,” Damien said, amused. “I am the Phantom. An uncouth and frightening devil. And the daughter of Sunspire clearly believes so.”
“But why do it at all?” Simon asked. “Will you stop striding for just a minute? I cannot cut through this damnable jungle as well as you. God, for a decent lawn and a rose garden!”
“Lawns and rose gardens are for the tame, Simon. I am not.”
But Damien did stop, turning to let his friend struggle to his side through fern and bramble.
“She will be well, by the way. She insisted on coming with me to get the supplies and seeing them delivered. But well. I am certain she will appreciate your asking.”
“I did not ask.”
“Precisely my point. Now, will you explain yours?”
Damien narrowed his eyes. He did not like explaining himself to anyone. Simon was the only person in the world who could expect to make such a demand and receive an answer. Damien used his stick to move aside a bramble that had ensnared Simon.
“She has become linked to Winterleigh. You know what will happen. Most will believe she chose to throw herself into my clutches. Those who do not label her as a witch will, instead, call her a whore. Her father may be among them. I do not know the man.”
“I have heard of him. By all accounts, a drunkard and a monster. You would get along famously.”
“I am not a drunkard.”
“Quite.”
“On the other hand, I have become a target for ghouls who wish to discover if Winterleigh is haunted. Whether the Phantom walks its halls and what happens to those who enter its grounds uninvited.”
“I do not wish to hear more on that. I have told you. I noted your servants talking of the dungeon and tried to shut my ears,” Simon shuddered.
“Do so. A wife and the appearance of respectability would go a long way to stem the flood of trespassers. And it would repair the damage to her name.”
“Her? She has a name, you know.”
“Her. She.” Damien insisted, waving a dismissive hand. “I do not wish an actual wife. Only the appearance of one.”
Damien lashed with his stick at a bog thistle that was rearing from amid a tuft of long grass. The idea of being forced to appear to be the same as the rest of society irritated him. But fear had not worked. It only seemed to draw the ghouls in.
“You will try and dispel the mythos by looking as ordinary as the rest of us,” Simon said, echoing Damien’s unspoken thoughts. “There will still be the draw of that monstrosity.”
He pointed through the trees to the dark bulk of Winterleigh. Ivy encrusted the deep gray stone and even reached in through empty windows where the glass had long since been broken. Jagged crenellations scored the sky, and a sense of brooding antiquity permeated it.
“What would you have me do? Tear it down and replace it with London stucco? Pillars that support nothing and baskets of fruit made of plaster pointlessly adorning the ceilings. Winterleigh is honest if simplistic.”
“As simplistic as a medieval fortress. Brutal is the word.”
“It is fitting.”
“Splendid, Maria! It could have been made for you,” Evelina proclaimed.
Maria stood in the doorway of the sitting room at Thornwall House, having changed out of her stained and, she had discovered, ripped gown. It was not a perfect fit, but Evelina was closest in size to Maria of all the women of the Corset Chronicles Club.
“Thank you, Evelina. I wish it were not necessary to be asking you for charity,” Maria said, smoothing her hands over the blossom-pink skirts.
“Nonsense. It is what one friend does for another. I am sure your situation is only temporary,” Evelina insisted.
Maria doubted it. She felt as though she were still trapped in that dead-end in which she had been assaulted. There was no way out that she could see. She knew her father well enough to know that he would not back down, would not reconsider. Not when he felt his honor had been tarnished.
For a man who lives in a bottle, he puts a great deal of store in his name and reputation.
“It is monstrous that he should cut off his own daughter over a refusal to marry a certain man,” Anna said, standing next to Maria and critically examining the hem of the skirt.
“Do you believe that he will really do as he says?” Theodora asked. She sat across the room, a long-forgotten abolitionist pamphlet abandoned on the sofa beside her. “Is it possible that your absence will have softened the man’s heart?”
“I am not so sure. He was so angry, far worse than I have seen before. I fear he means to destroy me out of sheer spite.” Maria sat down, waving away a plate of toast from a servant.
Her stomach seemed clenched permanently, knotted too tightly for hunger to penetrate. She felt so helpless. On the one hand, her father was powerful and vindictive, a trait made worse by his drinking. On the other hand, the Duke of Winterleigh sought to use her for purposes of his own.
A man who still haunts me as though he were looking over my shoulder. How long was he in the room with me while I slept? Was he looking at me?
The thought of those cruel eyes upon her sent a chill through her which was not entirely unpleasant. It was like experiencing his touch, something that must have happened, as she did not think Doctor Hale looked strong enough to lift her from her feet and carry her.
“I cannot let my father carry through with his threat, but what can I do?” she said, wringing her hands in her lap.
“Prevail upon the trustees not to accept his offer. They are not bound to, after all,” Anna reasoned. “Tell them what your father intends, and they will surely reject his offer.”
“If they believe me. If they are willing to refuse an earl or the offer of funds.” Maria said.
“Accept the Marquess of Landsdowne then,” Evelina said, lifting a tea cup.
The other women stared at her.
“You had better explain that comment, Evelina,” Maria said, arching an eyebrow.
“Indeed, sister! How could Maria take back the Marquess? It would be intolerable.” Theodora sounded outraged.
Evelina gave a sigh, fixing each of them with a look loaded with the wealth of her experience.
“Simply this. I founded this club so that women such as us would have a place where we could be free to talk about what we wish and be our true selves. That freedom of expression includes unpalatable truths, too, I think. I will not remain silent on options that you have, Maria, simply because we do not wish to consider those options. One of them is to go back to Landsdowne.”
“Quite out of the question,” Maria replied, leavening her words with a smile. “I know you are playing the devil’s advocate, Evelina, and I thank you for it. But he would not accept me. He did not take the ending of the engagement well. Besides, I would not have him.”
“And your father is likely to be intractable?” Evelina asked.
Maria nodded, seeing that Evelina was leading her in a specific direction. She had a plan; Maria could see it in the gleam of her eye. The other two looked quizzical, not yet seeing where the senior member of their club was driving. Maria thought she could.
“Of course, you will have a home here for as long as you want it. I do not think that our own father will be quite as hospitable, do you, Theodora?” Evelina said.
Theodora shook her head. “He would certainly take the side of Landsdowne and Sunspire. He is made from the same mold, I fear.”
Maria stood, adjusting the dress, which felt a little tight around the hip.
She went to the window, resting her eyes on the greenery.
A robin had settled upon the out flung arm of an alder tree.
She watched it puff out its chest and trill before taking flight.
She followed it until it was lost to sight.
Good luck to you, Mr. Robin. You have a freedom of which I can only dream.
“I do not think I can settle myself to living on the charity of my friends,” she said.
“Absolutely not. You would need to find gainful employment,” Evelina said firmly. “A woman of your intelligence and perspicacity could find work as a governess, I’m sure. Or a teacher. But that would not help little Gilbert and his fellows, would it?”
“No, it would not. Thank you for bringing the conversation back to its most important element. What happens to me does not matter. It is the orphanage that is the nub of the problem.”
“Then there is only one course of action available to you. As I recall the account you have given us, there is someone who presumably has the means to take care of both you and the orphanage,” Evelina said, fixing Maria with a sharp eye.
“You cannot mean that she must marry His Grace!” Anna exclaimed.
“I do,” Evelina said with finality.
Maria nodded glumly, returning her gaze to the gardens of Thornwall. She rested her chin on her hands, propped on the windowsill and wished herself a year along, when this matter would have been well and truly settled.
Will I be Duchess of Winterleigh and adopted mother of Gilbert? Trustee of the Willow Street Orphanage? Will all be well, finally? Or will things be even darker than they appear now?
She heard Evelina rise and felt Anna’s comforting arm about her shoulders. The two women flanked her, each offering the comfort of a smile or the warmth of a hug.
“I cannot believe we are suggesting it,” Anna said, tears standing in her eyes.