Chapter Six #3
Nora turned her head, pinning her youngest sister with a sharp look. ‘Goodness, you sound like Mother.’
Sara raised her chin and met her sister’s gaze with defiance. ‘If Mother can find me a man as young and handsome as your Lord Ralston, I wouldn’t be opposed.’
Candace, ever the peacemaker, interjected before sparks could fly. ‘Sara! There is more to life than marriage.’ She stepped back from Nora and folded her hands across her front.
Sara’s eyes narrowed. ‘That is your opinion. I’m not opposed to marriage and children.’
‘What about your own dreams of designing dresses?’ Nora asked.
‘I do not see how one cannot have both,’ Sara said simply.
Both Nora and Candace eyed her. ‘You have always been too naive, Sara,’ Candace said gently.
Just then, the door swung open, and their mother swept into the room. Her hair, still thick and dark despite her age, was twisted high with ivory combs and a spray of jet beads that matched the beads of the bodice of her gown.
‘Girls!’ she exclaimed, clapping her hands with dramatic flourish. ‘The Duchess of Everly has arranged for us to attend the village fair tomorrow before we return to Town.’ She fixed her gaze on Nora, her expression tightening just perceptibly. ‘And once we’re home, we have a wedding to plan.’
Nora’s heart clenched, and her fingers curled into the folds of her gown. The argument with Sara was instantly forgotten. ‘And how soon thereafter will the wedding take place?’
Her mother cocked her head to one side like a falcon eyeing a small bird. Nora tried not to squirm beneath her stare. ‘Immediately after the banns are read. Unless the Earl is successful in gaining a special license.’
Nora gasped. ‘A special license? Aren’t they difficult to—’
Her mother’s lips thinned into a single, disapproving line. ‘Ralston wishes to avoid any additional scandal.’
Any additional scandal.
The words hung heavy in the air. Her mother’s judgement was sharp as a steel blade. In Nora’s opinion, it was unwarranted. She was disgusted that her daughter would slip into a bachelor’s bed yet simultaneously thrilled that Nora had captured an earl and his title. The irony was not lost on anyone.
But what of Ralston? Could he truly gain a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury? That required influence, connections of the highest order. He’d never mentioned it, and she should not jump to conclusions. Still, he had surprised her before.
As for Umbridge, her mother would have ensured she accepted his offer.
Predictable, tedious Umbridge, with his thinning hair and opinions about almost every aspect of her life.
He was concerned with propriety and made it clear he wanted a young bride and an heir in exchange for his name and title.
As arranged by her mother, he would expect to propose upon her return.
Thankfully, her mother would speak with the baron and tell him she was no longer available.
Instead, she was now to wed Ralston, whose presence stirred her blood and unsettled every carefully arranged plan she had ever made.
The thought was mind-boggling and a cold knot formed in her stomach.
She needed more time to adjust, to accept her new fate.
She’d considered her future for so long.
Every detail was outlined in her notebook, and she could picture the pages, even the notes in the margins.
There were drawings of shells and the mollusks who inhabited them.
Other pages listed specific shells to search for and what evidence she needed to prove any theories or hypotheses. Dozens of observations.
She’d also carefully chartered her goals on the pages.
By October, approach the Scientific Society.
By January or earlier, present her findings to a panel of like-minded scientists.
And if all went as designed, request membership soon after.
By next spring or early summer, join a travelling expedition of scientists to the Continent.
She hoped to travel to Spain or Italy where the shells were different, so like the ones her father had brought her growing up, and she could walk the surf at her leisure in the day and talk with scientists about her findings in the early afternoons.
She would develop new skills and have a chance to work with leading scientists from a new perspective. What a dream that would be!
And now? She must think of a wedding.
Candace placed a calming hand on her shoulder. Sara looked up with worry.
Nora’s betrothal to Ralston had completely upended her well-plotted plans. He’d promised to support her work. But how long would that last in the face of Society’s expectations?
Either way, there was a ripple in her timeline—a large gaping hole—and she would have to pivot, rechart and essentially start from scratch.
Her summer and fall would be busy moving to the Earl’s estate, learning how to run a large home full of servants, and most difficult of all, becoming a countess.
Would all her dreams come crashing down?