Page 63 of A Damsel for the Wounded Earl
“You marry the man we have approved for you,” Mrs. Thornhill said, sounding irritated, “Or you go into seclusion in the countryside. Those are your choices. It’s no good trying to wheedle your way out of this one.”
“There is a third choice. I ignore both options, and I strike out on my own.”
There was a brief silence.
“And become a beggar on the street?” Mrs. Thornhill said at last, giving a snort of derisive laughter. “You are more naive than I thought, then. You won’t get a penny from us. Your money is not your money at all – it is your father’s, and it will be given to your husband if you choose to marry. Otherwise, you are reliant on us.”
“And yet you have the audacity to call me a burden.”
“Felicity! How dare you speak to me in that…”
“Lucy has told me I can stay here,” Felicity interrupted, ignoring the dangerously red tint to her mother’s face. “They don’t think I’m a burden.”
“Not now, but you’ll outstay your welcome faster than you think, my girl.”
“I can’t marry Vincent. I love somebody else.”
There was a silence after those words. Felicity let out a sigh of relief. It certainly felt good to get that off her chest, at long last. To finally say it aloud. Mrs. Thornhill blinked, taken aback. Felicity even thought that she saw sympathy and understanding in her mother’s eyes.
“Lord Lanwood, I assume,” she said, sighing.
“Yes, that’s right. I… I didn’t intend for it to happen, Mama.”
“No, people never do,” Mrs. Thornhill said. She looked thoroughly tired now. “I’m sorry for it, Felicity. I think Miss Sinclair has her eye on him.”
“Yes, I think he has feelings for her, too. They were engaged once. I can’t compete with her, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. Why should two women fight for a man’s attention, as if he couldn’t make a decision himself? It’s silly.”
Mrs. Thornhill got to her feet, holding out her arms to Felicity.
In spite of everything, in spite of all the angry words, the insults, the half-meant threats, Felicity sagged into her mother’s arms, chin resting on her shoulder, their arms tight around each other.
“It hurts, Mama,” Felicity said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I know, my darling girl. I know. But you can’t let this incident ruin your future. Lord Vincent is your future.”
And just like that, the moment was gone. Pulling back, Felicity stifled a sigh.
“I can’t marry Lord Vincent, and I won’t go into seclusion in the country.”
Mrs. Thornhill sighed. “We are going round and round in circles, Felicity. The threat your father and I made was a very serious one. We have your best interests in mind, believe me.”
She smiled wryly. “I know that you believe that. I need to go, now.”
“Go? Go where?” Mrs. Thornhill seemed more and more bewildered, see-sawing between triumph and despair. “Felicity, please. Let’s sit down. Let’s talk. Lord Lanwood is a fine man, sure enough, and we’d have been pleased to see you make that match, but Lord Vincent is…”
“I can’t, Mama. I have to go.”
Felicity went to the door, and hesitated, just for a moment. She glanced back over her shoulder at her mother, taking in her confusion and worry.
I could tell her. I could tell her what I’m going to do. Maybe she would understand.
The answer presented itself at once.
She would never understand. Even if she tried.
Smiling wryly to herself, Felicity stepped quietly out into the hallway, closing the door behind her. It didn’t stop Mrs. Thornhill shouting after her, of course.
“What are you doing, Felicity? Where are you going? Come back at once! We have things to talk about! Felicity!”
