Page 68 of An Offer for a Spinster
“Well, she’s rich enough, for a bluestocking, so I think I’ll get myself a decent enough bargain,” Lord Barwood remarked. “She’s got so much money that I can pay off everything I oweandlive a comfortable life. I could do much worse when it comes to heiresses – some of them tie everything up, so a husband is obliged to ask for anallowance, can you imagine?”
“Ridiculous,” the man agreed. “A man’s property is his property, after all, and that includes what belongs to his wife. Do you think Lady Katherine will kick up a fuss about you doing what you wish with her money?”
“I suspect she will, but none of that will matter. We’ll be married, and by then, what I say will go. It’s for the best. Her brothers will complain, but there won’t be a thing they can do.”
“Damned interfering fools.”
“Don’t swear in here, we’ll be disbarred. Now, just be sure you keep your mouth shut about my debts, eh? I don’t want the brothers to have an excuse to make her jilt me. She’s not fond of me, but the engagement is official now, so if I don’t make a mistake, she’ll have to go ahead with it. I can almost smell the money. The sooner the better, I say.”
“Agreed, my friend, agreed!”
More brandies arrived for Lord Barwood and his friend, and they drunk deeply.
Timothy got to his feet, leaving his own brandy. His stomach was churning too strongly for him to drink any of it, anyway. He strode right out of the club, directly past Lord Barwood and his friend. He heard his name called – he’d been recognized – but kept going, straight out into the road and into a stagecoach.
“Take me to the Dunleigh estate, please,” he said shortly. “It’s important. Please, drive quickly – I’ll give you extra if we can get there as soon as possible.”
The driver gave a grunt, pocketing the coin Timothy gave him.
“Right you are, sir. Right you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There’s nothing I can do,” Katherine said, her voice much smaller than she’d intended. She’d practiced what she was going to say all the way to her friend’s home, thinking it over and over. She would be brusque and straightforward – Elizabeth deserved the truth, and she deserved to hear it from Katherine.
She was too late. Elizabeth had heard it that morning – an acquaintance had dropped by right before breakfast, keen to share the news. And now here they were, talking in the parlour, sipping tea and pretending the world wasn’t falling around their respective ears.
“You… you can’t marry that man,” Elizabeth said, voice wobbling. “You must see that, Kat. I can’t stand him. He doesn’t love you, I’d vouch for it, and you don’t evenlikehim. Once you’re married, he’ll have power over you. If he wants to stop you reading and studying, he can. If he wants to stop you seeing your family, from seeingme, he can do it. There’s nothing anyone can do, not even William.”
Katherine opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out. There was nothing to say. Elizabeth was right – a man exercised absolute control over his wife. His sons would grow old enough to escape his authority, and a daughter could do the same, to an extent, or else get married and escape that way.
But a wife? A wife’s subjugation was forever. That was why it was so important to marry the right man. So important to choose one’s husband carefully. Very, very carefully.
Katherine felt sick. She’d felt sick continually since the party last night. After the announcement, the guests clearly felt that it was a surprise engagement party, and therefore felt entitled to stay as long as they liked, laughing and celebrating.
She wasn’t sure how William and the others dealt with it. Henry had left the house, according to the butler, and Alexander went straight up to her room, trying to console her. It didn’t do much good, and she soon asked him to leave. William stayed down with the guests. She supposed that he thought it was the right thing to do.
The Duchess came up to offer her congratulations shortly before bed, once everybody was gone. Katherine pretended to be asleep.
“You should tell him that you can’t marry him,” Elizabeth said.
“Things have already gone too far.”
“No, they haven’t. Right up until the day of your wedding, it’s not too late.”
Katherine scoffed. She bounced to her feet, pacing up and down the parlour. She wished she hadn’t drunk the tea. It sloshed around in her empty stomach, making her feel sick. Over the past day, she’d spent her time nibbling on food and drinking, if only to fill the hole inside her.
“Let me paint you a picture, Elizabeth. I choose to break off the engagement to Lord Barwood. I can do that, and he nobly accepts. Very nobly, in fact. You can imagine how Society would react. Lord Barwood is handsome and superficially charming. People like him.”
“People who don’t know him.”
“That’s not the point. The point is the look of the thing. I would look like a monster.”
“But you would be free,” Elizabeth pointed out, setting down her teacup with aclack. “You’d befree, Kat. You can’t marry him. You don’t want to. I know you don’t want to.”
“That is true. But think of how long it would take for my reputation to recover. A woman jilting a fiancé is something that will interest the whole town. Everybody will have an opinion.They’ll want to know why – why would I jilt such a handsome, charming man, especially when I’m such a bluestocking? They’ll pity him, and they’ll blame me. I’m sure he’ll lean heavily into that. And then what about me? Nobody will touch me for the rest of the Season. Even next Season, people will be talking about me and my broken engagement. But, as you know, that will already be too late. Far too late. I have a limited amount of time, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth bit her lip, nodding her head. “You’re right. You’re right, Kat. I… I’m just so angry. You were strong-armed into a public betrothal, and now you’re being marched towards the altar. I’m just so afraid for you, Katherine. So, so afraid.”
