Page 13 of The Viscount's Pearl
“My mama has written to me, telling me I should hurry back to London as there is a most eligible young man lately arrived in town,” she said. “I have told her I cannot possibly leave Lord Barrington when he has invited me personally. But in truth I have no interest in chasing after some young man when every young miss in London will be doing the same. The poor man must feel like a fox chased by the hounds. I shall stay here as long as possible. I am in no hurry for my fourth season.”
“I am sure there is still time for finding a suitable husband,” he said politely.
Frances suppressed a smile. No doubt he found her entirely unsuited to marriage. Excellent. The more men who thought so, the more likely her parents would give up and allow her the freedom she craved.
“I wonder you are not yet married yourself,” she said after a while, turning a whiteCochlodesma praetenueor spoon clam over in her hands and then discarding it, since it was cracked. “Are you more of Lord Barrington’s bent?”
“No!” he said, looking shocked at the very suggestion.
She shrugged. “Do you prefer not to marry, then?”
“Of course I will marry,” he said. “My father is keen that I should be wed. He would like to be surrounded by grandchildren. I intend to secure a wife this coming season.”
She was intrigued. “You have already fallen in love then?”
“One does not need to be in love to marry,” he said stiffly. He seemed put out by her interest, as though he did not wish to discuss any intimate particulars of his life with her. “Of course, affection is to be hoped for in a marriage, but so long as there is respect between the parties, that is all that is needed. As I am sure you will one day find yourself,” he added, with a lecturing tone.
“I do not wish to marry,” she said, eyes still searching the sand.
“Perhaps not now,” he said, stooping to pick up a small pink-tinged shell and passing it to her. “But no doubt one day you will wish to marry and have children.”
“No,” she said. “I do not ever wish to marry.”
“You do not want children?” he asked, surprised. Surely all women wanted children.
“I would not object to children,” she said. She added a delicately pinkTellina tenuisto her basket, the two halves still together, so that it looked like a tiny butterfly instead of a shell. “But I would not wish to be obliged to carry out the other duties of a wife; to host or attend social gatherings, to be forced to spend a great deal of time in company. It would be both tiring and tiresome to me.”
He had known she was odd, but this was beyond what he hadthought. “What would you propose to do with your life, then?” he asked, with an indulgent chuckle. “Collect shells, all alone?”
She turned to him at once, her face suddenly lit up. “Yes,” she said. “I wish to have a small house by the sea, with an income of my own and time to be alone. I would collect shells and walk by the sea and enjoy all that the natural world has to offer, its beauty and its mysteries. I would keep to myself and have a well-managed life, with things done as I wished them done. I would be happy, I think. But my parents do not agree with me, so I will have to wait until they have given up on my ever marrying.” She turned away again and continued along the beach, head down in her usual stance.
Laurence stood still watching her, drawn to a halt by her extraordinary statement. What could she mean by it? She did not wish to marry at all? She would forgo the desire to have children in order to live a strange solitary life by the sea, collecting shells for the rest of her days and speaking to no-one? He shook his head. Well, her parents were right to persevere in finding her a husband, it was absurd to let a young woman who knew nothing about the world make such a reckless choice. He looked behind him, back to where Uncle Barrington had arrived and was now following their progress from the promenade, his chair rolling along at a slow but steady pace. There were some steps nearby, where the beach led back to the promenade and now Laurence took them two at a time, reaching the pavement as his uncle drew abreast.
“May I walk with you, Sir? Miss Lilley is happy enough alone.” Happy alone, not just now but forever, was that truly her intention? There was something about the thought he found disconcerting.
Uncle Barrington gave a warm smile as he watched Frances continue down the beach, seemingly unaware and uncaring ofwhether Laurence were behind her or not. “Most certainly, my boy.”
Laurence walked for a few moments in silence, before his thoughts could no longer be contained. “Miss Lilley said she does not wish to marry,” he blurted out. “Ever.”
“Had you made her an offer?” inquired his uncle.
“No!”
“What made her say such a thing then?”
“I – I had made mention of wishing to find a wife this coming season.”
“Are you in love?”
“No, Sir. But it is my duty to marry soon and I intend to find a suitable wife.”
“Duty… suitable… would you not wish to find someone you truly love?”
Laurence thought of Lord Hyatt and how he had found a wife, despite his youthful connection with Lord Barrington. Had he felt anything for Lady Hyatt or had the marriage been one of convenience, his heart lying elsewhere? The thought seemed sad, but then Lord Hyatt had done his duty to his family and sired heirs, which Lord Barrington had not. Laurence was still unsure of whether his uncle’s path was acceptable. “Love is not required for a marriage, Uncle.”
“Is it not?”
“No, Sir. I would hope for affection, of course, and mutual respect.”
