Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
A sh jolted at his mother’s words, which was impressive because nothing much surprised him anymore. Since returning from war his life was a never-ending grey blankness, broken only by the screaming in his dreams.
‘Did you hear me, James?’
‘Yes, Mother.’
‘Well, what do you think?’
He couldn’t fathom why his mother sounded so optimistic. She must know he would never agree to such a ridiculous suggestion. ‘Sienna Smythe is a child. I’ll not consider her for a wife.’ That was his final decision; he would contemplate the idea no further.
His mother’s lips pinched as the carriage rattled over the uneven street. ‘Miss Smythe is a wealthy debutante. Not only has her late brother-in-law provided her with a dowry but her brother has furnished her with a settlement, too. She will be well sought after with that fortune behind her, but we’ve known the family for years and they owe us.’ Those last few words were bitter and had been oft repeated in recent months. Ash decided to ignore them in favour of the main problem.
‘Miss Smythe is ten years younger than me. I can remember her learning to walk. She is not suitable.’ He didn’t mention that he’d been there when she’d taken her first tottering steps, Amelia beside him, her cheeks pink with joy and her catlike eyes sparkling.
‘What’s wrong with your chest?’ his mother demanded. Ash knew his mother to be a good woman, she’d been an exemplary mother during his childhood, but they had not been getting along well since his return. She couldn’t understand why Ash wasn’t happier to be home, why he wasn’t the same as the boy who laughed all the time. She seemed to attribute his reservedness to some kind of illness and was always quick to ask him what was wrong. This time he’d not realised he’d been rubbing the skin just above his heart. He dropped his hand.
‘Nothing. I am well.’ That was a falsehood but a necessary one. His mother didn’t need to know the ins and outs of what was going on in his mind. Nobody needed to know of the horrors he kept seeing even though he was safe and sound and back in England alive and, for all intents and purposes, well. Part of their current discord was down to the fact that he was a grown man. When he’d left for war he’d been little more than a child but now he had seen men die only metres away from him, he was far less inclined to indulge his mother with her demands.
Nobody missed Lady Bulphan’s ball, however. She always threw one at the very start of the season and although he had no intention of courting Sienna Smythe, he did indeed need a wife. A wealthy one. One who wouldn’t mind him immediately spending her money on the Ashworths’ crumbling estate or stumping up the blunt for his sisters’ debuts next year. He wasn’t happy about it, though. The carriage was slowing as they neared the ball and he wanted nothing more than to rip off the elaborate cravat at his throat and bolt into the night.
‘I am sorry you are in this position, James.’ His mother’s voice was softer, kinder, now and that was somehow harder to bear than her demands. ‘I know this situation is your father’s and the Smythes’ fault, but if you don’t marry into money, our family will be ruined. We need dowries for the girls, and I don’t need to remind you what a state Easton Hall is in. A new roof for the west wing was imperative two years ago.’ Ash was rubbing his chest again but this time because it was so difficult to breathe. It wasn’t just the Hall itself that needed repairs. The houses that depended on Easton Hall for their livelihood needed an injection of money as soon as humanly possible. ‘It’s why the Smythe girl is such a good choice for you,’ continued his mother. ‘Not only does she have a sizeable dowry, it’s also their father’s fault we are in this dire predicament.’
Ash glanced around the richly furnished carriage and sighed quietly. He understood why his mother blamed the Smythes for their strained finances. His own father had invested unwisely after taking advice from his good friend, the late Robert Smythe. And when it had been obvious that things were going wrong, he’d doubled down on his mistake and asked Robert for more advice. The result was the loss of almost all the Ashworths’ fortune. A few judicious sales of property they hadn’t needed had saved them from the worst of it, but that pot was dwindling because his mother didn’t seem to believe in economising. She was still spending as if they were as flush as ever and not as if they were barely holding on to their possessions. Perhaps if Ash had been able to come home earlier, he could have prevented the situation becoming so extreme, but that hadn’t been possible and now here he was, having to marry for money unless some other miracle presented itself.
He’d be damned if that woman was Sienna Smythe. In truth, it did not matter who became his wife but he would not subject himself to spending any time in contact with Sienna’s sister, Amelia.
Amelia, the sweetest, loveliest woman he’d ever encountered, his childhood best friend and the woman with whom he’d once thought he would spend the rest of his life. At one time, just the glimpse of her dark red hair would weaken his knees, and making her laugh had been the highlight of any day.
He’d gone off to war assuming they would marry on his return. Foolishly imagining that would be within a matter of months, not years, and that he would return a hero whom Amelia would be thrilled to marry. Nothing had turned out as he’d naively imagined. War was horrific. Nothing in his idyllic childhood had prepared him for the brutal reality. The disparity between the pointless bloodshed and his childhood sweetheart had been startlingly evident to him. He’d wanted to keep the connection to her but every time he’d picked up a pen, he couldn’t imagine sullying her perfect innocence with the horrors he was witnessing. Months had gone by and all the letters he’d started were never finished. Instead, he’d folded them and stored them in a trunk, holding on to the idea that he would one day be able to share everything with her.
She hadn’t waited for him. The day he heard she had married somebody else, something inside him had shattered at the news and it had never truly healed. In his more rational moments, he knew he was partly to blame. He had not written to her, or at least, she did not know that he had and she had every right to fall in love with someone else. But he was rarely rational when it came to Amelia. He had loved her and she had married someone else. That was the truth of it.
It didn’t matter whom his mother picked out for him to marry. It was not like it would make a difference to the flatness of his life, but it would not be Sienna Smythe who would always remain a child in his eyes, or anyone from the Smythe family. They were acquaintances now and that was how it would remain.