Chapter Five #2
By now you know the contents of the packet and are aware of the pact between Thomas and me.
The news has likely been met with myriad emotions, not all of them good.
You may not care for me much in these early moments, but rest assured I care for you deeply.
This arrangement is not a punishment but an opportunity—perhaps one that I should have enacted earlier instead of waiting.
Purpose in life is the building block of any man’s success, as I know it will also be yours.
With all my love, your father.
How like his father to teach a lesson with empathy instead of with brimstone and hot demands of acquiescence.
Purpose in life is the building block of any man’s success, as I know it will also be yours.
That line was searing in its undertones, a reminder to follow through, to stick to this one thing.
He didn’t think for a moment his father meant that to only apply to the business end of things but the marital end, too.
Through this arrangement, he was to seek purpose in both public and private life.
How was he to do that when he’d given Ismay his word to break their fathers’ pact?
Alistair folded the note into a square. He’d been put in an untenable position.
To keep his word to Ismay, he’d have to break with his father.
And to please his father, he’d have to betray Ismay and himself, committing them both to a life neither would choose on their own.
Unless the ruse worked. Their parents absolutely had to be the ones to cry off in order for him and Ismay to save face.
He put the note in his pocket and strode indoors to rejoin the party.
At least now he knew what his father was thinking, though it didn’t help in the least.
* * *
‘What was Father thinking?’ Ismay yanked out hairpins in agitation now that she was in the privacy of her room, the dinner guests departed. Her mother had taken up residence in a pink club chair near the open balcony doors, having come up to talk over the evening and all of its excitement.
‘Perhaps he was thinking about his daughter’s future happiness.’ She was unbothered by the outburst—a testament perhaps to how often Ismay had raged about one thing or another over the years. She was not any easier as an adult than she had been as a child.
‘My parents have betrothed me from the cradle to a man I don’t know like it’s the Middle Ages.’ Ismay fumbled with the clasp of her choker, anger making her clumsy.
‘Let me, darling, or you’ll break it.’ Her mother was all steady efficiency, taking over the unfastening of the necklace.
How her mother could be so calm, all the time, was beyond her.
Ismay envied her mother’s talent for it.
It was not unlike Alistair’s response tonight.
He’d been angry, too, but he’d not shown it, not let himself be overtly swept away by uncontrollable emotions.
‘Alistair isn’t a stranger. You do know him. You grew up with him.’
‘I haven’t seen him for ages. Even then, it was just in the summers, and he was a horrid boy. He put a spider in my soup once.’
‘And you put dye in his hot chocolate. I’d call that even.’ Her mother set the necklace on the dressing table and began to help with her dress. ‘Childhood competitors can make good friends in adulthood,’ she cajoled. ‘And you do know of him through all the letters our families have exchanged.’
‘But I don’t know him. What has he been doing for the past twenty years?’
‘You don’t know him yet,’ her mother corrected.
‘But we know his family, and you will have a lifetime to get to know each other. Love will come from building that life together.’ This was going poorly.
Her mother was a veritable fortress of reasoning, unflappable in maintaining her position.
Ismay had not counted on that. She’d counted instead on some empathy that could be turned in her favour.
Ismay stepped out of the rose silk and slipped into a dressing robe. ‘I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to marry anyone.’ She gave the belt a firm tug to emphasise the point.
‘Darling, not every man is Edward Ashford, and not being married is an untenable position. It is not a sustainable lifestyle for you. What will happen to you when you age? When we are gone? Do you want to die alone?’
‘If I am happy, then yes. I wouldn’t be alone if Father had made me a business partner instead.’
Her mother returned to her chair, her hands clasped in her lap, her gaze stern.
‘If that is your belief, let me share a hard truth with you. If you were to take over in your father’s stead, there would be no business within three years.
’ She held up a finger to stall the protest Ismay was eager to launch.
‘Not because you aren’t capable of doing business, Ismay.
You are more than capable. But no one would do business with you—with a woman alone. ’
‘It’s not fair.’ Ismay picked up a hairbrush and began to apply strokes to her tangles.
‘I’m not saying it’s right, but that’s how it is.
You know this, no matter how much you rail against it,’ her mother said, pressing the argument.
‘What I think you have failed to recognise is that in making Alistair his partner and arranging for you to wed, your father has allowed you to be involved in the business. As Alistair’s wife, you will have an active role in the company.
He will be counting on you, on your knowledge.
In time, you will be able to pass it on to your sons and, in this way, keep your father’s work in the family,’ she explained patiently.
Ismay set the brush down slowly, understanding coming to her. ‘So that’s the bribe, then, the key that keeps me in the gilded cage. I am to trade my freedom for financial security and help a man run what should have been my company.’
‘It will be your company in all but name. Ismay, don’t you see that this is the way it must be?’
‘And my own scholarship? Am I to give that up entirely?’
‘Your study of volcanoes, you mean? That’s not a living, Ismay, it’s a hobby. It can’t support you. You need to make up your mind. One minute you’re railing about not being your father’s business partner and the next you want to climb volcanoes.’
‘Why not do both? Especially when we have a volcano in our midst. I am not running off anywhere, Mother. People come from all over to study Mount Vesuvius. Father has more than one interest, and you do, too. You play the cello, you compose, you are writing a symphony.’
‘I am a respectable married woman. I may be allowed those pursuits now that I’ve proven myself.
’ Another bribe, Ismay thought. If she married Alistair she, too, could be a respectable woman and be granted such latitude.
Perhaps Professor Loughty would publish her papers if she was Mrs Alistair Burke-Price.
‘I want to do these things on my own, Mother. I want to be recognised on my merits, not my husband’s. I want to be a credit to myself, not to him as if he somehow made me what I was.’
‘My dear girl, you are setting yourself up for disappointment. I fear we were too lenient with you in your formative years, and we shall all pay for it, you most of all.’
Was that a ray of hope? ‘Does that mean you’ll speak to Father and have him call this engagement off?’
Her mother’s brow knit, and she rose to leave.
‘No, it does not. We have an obligation to you, Ismay, to see you settled. We also have an obligation to our dear friend, Hugh Burke-Price. We will honour both, and in time I sincerely believe you will thank us. In the meanwhile, you need to set aside your stubbornness, get to know Alistair better and reconcile yourself to being a December bride. You will start the new year with a new life, Ismay.’
A life she didn’t necessarily want. Ismay felt her pulse start to race, the panic start to rise.
‘But, Mother, what if we truly don’t suit? What if we are entirely incompatible?’
‘I don’t think that will happen. Alistair seems very amenable to the arrangement.’
Ismay wanted to scream. ‘Of course he’s amenable. He has the most to gain.’ They were throwing a fortune at him, although that had not seemed to make a difference to him tonight. He’d agreed quite eagerly to her plan. ‘But what if we can only make each other unhappy?’
Her mother sighed, stopping to press a kiss to her head as she passed.
‘Then, I suppose if that were honestly the case, we would revisit the situation. Until then, I would encourage you to rethink who is to gain from all this. You will gain plenty. Most of all, you gain that rarest of things, a second chance.’ A chance to make up for Edward Ashford, a chance to make her parents proud, a chance to stop being a disappointment.
All she had to do was give up her independence.
Ismay slipped between the sheets of her bed, letting the breeze from the balcony cool her heated thoughts along with her cheeks.
She loved her parents, but she could not do it, not even for them.
This, too, would pass like the other contretemps that had plagued her adult life.
Alistair didn’t want to marry her any more than she wanted to marry him, although she didn’t want to think about that too closely.
What did it mean when a man being handed a fortune and a livelihood was still willing to turn both down if he could escape marriage to her?
She told herself it had nothing to do with her.
He resisted on principle. He valued his autonomy as did she.
In this one thing, they were united. She needn’t worry.
They already didn’t like each other. What could possibly go wrong? They had a plan, and it would succeed.