Page 39 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
She hadn’t been interested. They’d all been fops.
If she married Eustace, or anyone else, would they let her pursue anything of her own? Or would they be like Uncle Cedric, proclaiming that a woman’s sphere was within the home and that to look outside it for occupation was vulgar?
How could she possibly explore her own interests if she was obliged to obey her husband all the time?
Fairbury and Berridge was part of the world of men. The world of activity and commerce, where you made decisions and things happened. She wasn’t ready for her life to be a round of morning calls and musical afternoons punctuated by dinner parties and soirées.
“Wifehood and motherhood!” Uncle Cedric banged his fist on the mahogany tabletop. “Those are the occupations that should matter to you, Ursula. This nonsense about taking over your father’s business has got to stop. It would bring utter disrepute on the noble Arrington name.”
He went to stand by the fire, then looked at her for some moments—as if weighing up what to say next, since she’d given no reply. Ursula sat straight-backed. Her uncle was entitled to his opinion, and, this being his house, she would sit and listen while he gave forth, but it would change not a whit her own position in the matter.
Smoothing down his moustache, he frowned. “It was bad enough that your father stooped to becoming involved in such unsavoury business.”
Ursula blinked twice.
Unsavoury?
Her uncle hadn’t seemed to find the profits of that business so vile last year, when he’d requested funds to repair the roof of Arrington Hall. There had been other instances, too, all logged in her father’s ledgers.
Her uncle continued. “Your father’s marriage to your mother was one of expediency, having no fortune of his own and no expectation of the title with which I am now endowed. Your mother was base-born, with only her wealth to recommend her.”
Ursula sucked in her breath.
How dare he! The vile, snobbish, insulting hypocrite.
But Uncle Cedric wasn’t finished. His lip curled in an ugly sneer. “It’s unfortunate that this is the stock from which you’re drawn, but I’ve always treated you as one of our own, overlooking the disadvantage of your birth. It is with us that you belong, and your marriage to Eustace shall assure you of a place in society. Whatever others may think in private, they shall not dare utter in your presence, once you are allied to my heir.”
Through clenched jaws, Ursula spoke with barely contained fury. “Grandfather was happy enough to overlook my mother’s ‘disadvantages’ when he agreed to the betrothal, with a handsome dowry attached, while the ‘unfortunate’ source of my mother’s wealth has not deterred you from making use of it.” A trembling rage was filling her, now she’d begun.
“Such rudeness!” The viscount’s left eye was twitching, while the other bulged in an alarming manner. “It is you, niece, who are failing to observe the proprieties! Were I a lesser man, I would dismiss you from this house immediately. As it is, I bid you to keep to your room until you have an apology to deliver and a more civil tongue in your head.”
Ursula also stood, drawing to her full—if modest—height, but without intention of leaving.
She still had plenty to say.
“If my forthrightness offends you, Uncle, then I suggest you look to the cause. As to leaving this house, nothing shall give me greater pleasure.” She held her chin high. “I’ll apply to Mr. Bombardine’s office of law in the morning, for full access to my father’s papers, and shall arrange a meeting with Mr. Berridge forthwith. You need nevermore be concerned with the Arrington name being sullied, for I shall refute any claim that we are related!”
“Abominable, ungrateful girl!” The viscount’s nostrils flared large. “By all means, visit Bombardine, and he shall tell you not only that my guardianship of you, and of all the assets in your possession, continues until your twenty-fifth birthday, but that the Pimlico house has been sold—”
“Sold?” The heat in Ursula’s chest rushed to her head. “You cannot mean—”
“I do.” He moved to the window, not even looking at her. “The contents were auctioned off last month, and your personal possessions brought here; placed in storage in the attic of this house.”
Ursula grasped the table’s edge, suddenly speechless.
He turned towards her again, a malicious glint in his eyes. “Your stake-holding in Fairbury and Berridge has been dissolved.”
The last he uttered with marked relish.
Dissolved?
Her throat constricted.
Surely not! It couldn’t be true.
“You’ve sold my father’s share in the business?” She struggled to project her voice but he heard her all right.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across her uncle’s face. “I see we understand each other. As your guardian, the decision was mine and Mr. Berridge was most obliging. Not only did he appreciate your reluctance to continue an association with the business, but offered a very fair price to release you from the partnership. Naturally, wishing to fulfil my duties, I accepted on your behalf.”
