Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
Ravenglass
After her conversation with her father, all the pleasure had drained from the day, and Geneva found herself walking towards the sea.
The slate-colored water was capped with white, the mudflats stretching before her, their damp surface rippled and uneven.
A gusty wind tore at her hat and scarf, scouring her face with grains of sand, but she pressed on. She needed time to think—and to rage.
She was so angry, she could have kicked something, but instead she screamed into the wind, the sound of her fury ripped from her mouth the instant it escaped.
At present, there were three men in her life, and every one of them was trying to manage her.
Her father was determined to force her into a marriage of convenience.
Rory was asking her to abandon everything and everyone she loved and move halfway across the world, on the vague promise that he might, or might not, buy into his cousin’s business venture.
And Jesse was perfectly willing to marry her—or Honor, should she refuse—simply to smooth his passage into society.
Did he not have a life in New York to return to?
Surely he had left someone behind, someone who missed him and thought he was coming back.
And then there was her aunt, conspiring with her brother, eager to corner Geneva because she too stood to gain.
Clarissa’s connection to the Earl and Countess of Gosforth was not to be underestimated, particularly with a daughter soon to be of marriageable age.
With so many young men lost to the war, finding a suitable match for Rose would be harder than ever.
She was sweet enough but inclined to fade into the background, and her fortune was hardly substantial enough to lure some impoverished aristocrat.
Geneva hated herself for thinking in such terms, but she knew how her aunt’s mind worked.
In her own way, Clarissa wanted what was best for Rose, just as her father believed he wanted what was best for Geneva and Honor.
Yet the manner in which their elders went about arranging their lives felt nothing short of medieval.
Geneva shivered in the chill wind, and, despite her gloves and leather ankle boots, her extremities were numb, and her feet were cold and damp.
She had no choice but to turn back, but as she set off towards the house she spotted Jesse hurrying towards her, his hand on his hat to keep it from flying away.
He called out to her, but his words were stolen by the wind, and he had to wait to try again until the two of them were almost face-to-face.
“Genny, are you all right?” he asked. He looked so concerned, Geneva could almost believe he really cared.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied haughtily.
“You spoke to your father just before you left. I thought you might be upset.”
“I am upset. And I also feel hurt and betrayed.”
She had not meant to be so frank, but, once they’d touched upon what had until now remained unsaid, she could not seem to stop herself.
“Why, Jesse? Why did you agree to marry me? You hardly know me. And it’s not as if that’s a condition of the entailment.”
Jesse met her gaze with an uncertain smile, and, for the first time since they’d first met, she realized that he was not entirely sure of himself and might even be a little insecure, despite his confident demeanor.
“I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” he confessed.
“I’m sure you’ve met women you found attractive before,” Geneva countered.
“Of course I have, and in some cases the feeling was mutual,” Jesse replied.
“But they were never special to me. I felt no urge to better myself to impress them, and the thought of losing them caused me no real pain. They came and went, and though I may have enjoyed their company for a time I never imagined a future with any of them.”
“And you imagine one with me?” Geneva asked, taken aback by his candor.
“I dream of a future with you, Geneva,” he said quietly, “though I know you have little reason to feel the same. I’m not the sort of man you were brought up to marry.
I’m not university educated, nor particularly sophisticated, and I would never quite belong among your set.
But I aspire to be worthy of you. I want you to have all the things you believed would be yours when you grew up in this house, on this land. ”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” Geneva faltered.
“Say you’ll think about it.”
“Jesse, the New Year’s Eve party is a week away. That’s not a lot of time to make such a weighty decision about my future.”
He nodded. “I realize that. But think how happy it would make your father. He would die easy knowing you were loved and cared for, and that your children would carry on his legacy. And if, at any point in the coming months, you felt you had made a mistake, you could always change your mind. I would understand and release you from your promise.”
“How do I know you wouldn’t try to manipulate me?” Geneva asked.
Jesse sighed, as if she had wounded him deeply with her mistrust. “I’ve made an appointment with Mr. Lefferts. He’ll be in his office on the twenty-seventh, and I’d like you to come with me.”
“What for?”
“I intend to draw up a document settling an allowance on both you and Honor, so that you may be entirely independent of me, should you wish it. You would never have to see me again after your father is gone.”
“Would you go back to New York, then?” Geneva asked. She could not bring herself to voice the question at the forefront of her mind: whether he would marry Honor if Geneva refused.
Jesse smiled, though there was sadness in it. “I suppose so. If you cannot see your way to loving me, then there is nothing here for me. I would have no choice but to sell the estate.”
“You would sell Bellamy Hall?” Geneva exclaimed.
“What alternative would I have? If I’m not staying in England, I have no use for any of it.
The proceeds would purchase a sizable house on Long Island, a place where my future family might live.
And I do intend to have a family, Geneva,” he added quietly.
“I’ve been alone for far too long, and after the horrors I witnessed during the war I’ve learned that the only thing that truly matters is having someone who loves you—and loving them in return. ”
Geneva nodded, finding herself unable to speak. She had not expected Jesse to offer her any reason to seriously consider her father’s proposal, but his honesty—so raw and unguarded—gave her pause.
“Genny,” he said gently, “will you think about it? Please?”
“Yes. I will. But I really must go back now. I’m freezing.”
“It is rather arctic out here,” Jesse said with a grin. “I can’t feel my face.”
“Neither can I,” Geneva replied and realized she was smiling.