Page 31 of Wild Lily
Julian groaned.
This old argument between them was infuriating. They never openly stated their grievances in front of Julian and Elanna, but they could wheedle and cajole, criticize and affront with careful precision. The gist of it, which Julian had learned bit by agonizing bit, was some indiscretion that the two of them had committed when they first met. Each held the other responsible for the fault. Yet to hear them tell it, in the beginning each had loved the other with a searing passion. For more than a decade, they had turned to each other and burned with a sensuality that conceived his own life as well as Elanna’s. Then, at once, the flames had died. In the ruins, they tore at each other’s dignity. He in company with disreputable women, she in company with feckless gamblers. Why and how they could not lay down their arms, escaped Julian. Their feud taught Elanna and him a marital lesson to befriend others with caution. Intimacy was a folly meant for fools.
Julian had had enough of their bickering for today. “If you two can insult each other more profoundly, please do it quickly.”
“You presume to order me, boy?” The old man pointed at him with a shaky hand.
Concern for his father’s health coiled inside him. “Never. But this serves no purpose, Father. I’ve heard this tirade for decades and I’m quite tired of it. Tell us rather more about the finances, please.”
“Very well. I have cut the staff. At Broadmore, two of the maids, one of the footmen. Here, I’ll relieve the seasonal staff at the end of June. Four of them. Two upstairs maids, the second scullery maid and the new footman.”
His mother caught a handkerchief to her eyes. “Disgraceful. The house will be a shambles. How will we manage?”
The old man shook his head. “You could pick up a feather duster.”
“You’re mad,” she seethed.
“Right you are. So then! No more monthly shipments of wine. No refurbishment of the upholstery in the drawing room.”
“Absurd!” his mother objected. “I cannot imagine. How can we attract a proper match for Elanna?”
Julian winced. Leave it to his mother to use Elanna as an excuse to get what she wanted. The woman had no scruples. Few motherly instincts, either.
“Ba!” His father put a hand on his hip. “She turned down two men last year. Old Wayland’s whelp who has a bit of money.”
“He’s not yet out of dresses,” the duchess objected.
He prefers men.Julian shifted. “He’s not right for our girl.”
“And Lord Canfield was—is a rogue,” Elanna added. “With bad breath.”
Julian stifled a laugh. “Marriage is too important to demand that Elanna take whatever comes her way.”
“Like Carbury?” their mother said with the arch of one long brow and a pointed gaze at Elanna. “Why not? He’s eager. Likes her. He’s not bound himself up with debts, and he’s out of mourning.”
Elanna shifted. “He’s very nice. But I dare say I cannot find it in my heart to—”
“Not for you, is he?” the duke asked. “Well then. Would you be able to find it in your heart to take a position as governess?”
“What?”His mother gaped.
Elanna fell back in her chair.
Julian cringed.
“Or teach in a girl’s school?”
“Surely, Seton,” said the duchess, waving her handkerchief in a frantic beat, “you jest. You do. The girl will not, I say will not lower herself to turn to anyone’s employ. Surely, surely—” She was on her feet, pacing the window, back to face her husband before his desk. “You cannot make her do that. It’d ruin us. Utterly.”
The old man simply crossed his arms and studied her.
“What will people say, good sir?” she beseeched him.
“I applaud your social instincts, my girl. Thought you’d lost them. Sent them out to roost with all our money.”
“Stop.” She hung her head and stomped her foot. “Do. Stop.”
“I cannot. As for doings here, there are enough funds for the ordinary teas, a few dinner parties, a musicale, if you wish. But no balls.” His tone turned maudlin, almost apologetic. So very unlike his normal boisterous self. “I’m sorry, Elanna, but you’ll have to dance at other people’s invitation.”
