Page 30 of Foolish Bride
“Though I am pleased to hear that little Charles is recovering, that does not explain your dress, Sophia.” Dory pointed to the mud.
She muttered something in Italian, her mother’s native language, as she looked down at the hem of her dress. “That happened as I rushed from the house. I was not three steps from the door when I found the only puddle in all of London today and promptly splashed into it. I suppose I should have gone back inside and changed like any good Englishwoman, but as an American, I thought it better to be somewhat on schedule than fashionable. Besides, it’s only the three of us.”
The day Sophia Braighton came to London was a lucky day for them all. Elinor and Dory had been friends since childhood, but with Sophia their trio was complete. “Oh, Sophia. You really are a treat. I would have rushed back in and taken an additional hour in dressing all the while crying over my lost garment.”
Sophia and Dory exchanged glances.
Dory said, “I think you might have done that six months ago. Now I am not at all sure what you would do. Honestly, Elinor, I have known you since I was two months old, and I am surprised by you every day.”
Would she have changed today? Elinor wasn’t sure. “I supposed that is true.”
“I know we have not been friends as long as you and Dory. But Elinor, I must know, were you pretending all those years?” Sophia asked.
In the essentials she was the same, at least in private she was. “Pretending? No. I behaved exactly the way that my mother wanted me to be. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Mother always told me that smart girls don’t find a husband. She said that girls who appear too intelligent are left to be old maids. She said that I must hide my wit in favor of charm. A simple girl will make the best match, she would say all the time.”
“So what happened?” Sophia leaned forward and plucked a biscuit from the tray.
“I stopped caring.” It was good to let some of her thoughts out. She’d kept them to herself so long, it was as if a shroud lifted off her.
Dory sat in the chair next to Elinor. “Stopped caring about what, dearest?”
A tear welled up, and she looked from Sophia to Dory and dashed it away. “I stopped caring if I married, I stopped caring about being an old maid, and I definitely stopped caring about anything my mother or father said.”
“Are you happier not caring?” Dory’s voice was gentle, and she took Elinor’s hand.
Happy? She hadn’t even had a happy thought in months.“No, but at least my anger gives me some relief.”
“But you can never go back,” Sophia said.
“No. I know that.” It would be impossible to play the fool again.
Sophia smiled and took her other hand. “Well, Elinor Burkenstock, I liked you when you appeared foolish and cried all the time, and I like you now that you are witty and the toast of the town. Now, if you will tell us what it is you want from life, we shall set about helping you achieve it.”
Elinor squeezed the hands of her two best friends and drew a deep breath. “That’s the problem. I do not know.”
Dory said, “Last night you said you liked Middleton.”
“I do, but then I saw Michael.”
Sophia cocked her head. “You mean other than at dinner?”
“He and I spoke on the veranda.”
“Start at the beginning and tell us every word,” Dory commanded. “No. Wait. First, tell us all about Middleton. What did you and he talk about, and what did he say in the note? Then we shall get to the new Duke of Kerburghe.”
When she finished telling her friends all they wanted to know, Elinor was no more certain of herself than when she’d arrived. She wished Dory would play the pianoforte, and she could close her eyes and forget about everything.
“Mother is completely smitten with Middleton. Last night on the way home, Father said he wished he had allowed the wedding to Michael. Now that he is a duke, all Father can say is that he should have made him marry me. He even went so far as to say he could have bought us a child from some beggar on the street. The entire thing is unflattering. My father buying children and having to force someone to marry me. It’s not as if I am without admirers. And it was Father who begged off, not Michael.”
Dory stood and paced. “I am sorry, Elinor, but your father must be losing his mind.”
“Would you be opposed to adopting a child, Elinor?” Sophia brushed out her wrinkled skirts.
“Of course not. I would love any child. I could never lie about the baby’s origins, though. I could not cheat Michael’s brothers out of their inheritance. You are right, Dory, my father has gone mad and my mother is not far behind. I love Michael, and while I realize I may have to marry Middleton, I shall always wish for a different life. Is that fair to Middleton?” The entire situation left her cold and alone, but wishing she could go back would not make it happen.
Dory leaned on her pianoforte. “It seems to me that if you do not wish to marry Middleton, then you do not have to. No one can force you to marry.”
Elinor traced the light pink damask roses on the couch arm. “That’s just it, I do not really mind the idea. It’s just…”
