Page 55 of The Spinster's Stolen Hear
“And this is why I am here,” Bridget said at last, her voice deceptively calm. “To deal with such nonsensical ideas. Now, let’s discuss more important matters. When Lord Barwick proposes, you…”
“I shall refuse him.”
There. It was said. Pippa let out a slow breath, a crushing weight seeming to lift off her shoulders. She would not marry him. Of course, she would not. How could she ever have thought otherwise? Perhaps she ought to have been more firm with his attentions, but it wasn’t as if she’d had much choice.
Now, I find that I want him to propose quickly, so I can turn him down and get it over with.
Abruptly, Bridget leaned forward, clamping a hand around Pippa’s wrist.
“Repeat that,” she said, her voice low and cold.
“Ow, Mama, you are hurting me. Your nails are digging in…” Pippa tried in vain to pull away, but her mother’s grip was deceptively strong.
“Repeat what you just said to me.”
“I said that I would refuse Lord Barwick if he made an offer for me, and I will.”
Pippa met her mother’s eyes, tilting up her chin. The grip on her wrist increased, until pain shot up her forearm.
“You listen to me, you spoiled woman,” Bridget said, her voice icy. “I have worked hard to engineer this match for you. It is the best match you could have hoped for. You will be a Marchioness, safely married and firmly positioned in Society. Lord Barwick is a handsome man, and young, and there is no reason why you should not come to love him. As for his proposal, you will accept. Youwillaccept it. I am your mother, and I command it.”
Pippa swallowed thickly. Her mother’s eyes were flat and cold, unblinking. She found it harder and harder to meet her stare, but persevered. Katherine’s words came back to mind.
“You cannot force me to accept him,” she said, her voice trembling.
Bridget’s lip curled. “No, I cannot. But let me tell you this, Pippa. If you refuse Lord Barwick, you are dead to me.”
Pippa sucked in a breath. “You cannot mean that.”
“No? You think not? If you end this Season unmarried, Pippa, you shall be worthless, both in the eyes of Society and in mine. Why must I be saddled with such a disappointment? Heaven only knows what value your father saw in you. You are spoiled, ungrateful, and entirely too naive to understand what is good for you. I will never forgive you if you ruin this for us, Pippa.”
She swallowed thickly, feeling as though she were underwater. Pippa had never heard such venom from her own mother before, not even at their worst moments.
“Don’t you love me at all, Mama?” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word.
Bridget released her wrist at last. Pippa cradled her bruised arm, trying not to look at the red crescent-marks in her skin.
“I am a practical woman,” she said, voice clipped. “I always was. I married for love and look how we suffered for it. I shan’t let you make the same mistake. Lord Barwick is the man you want, mark my words. I will make this request of you once and only once more. If Lord Barwick makes you an offer – and I believe he will – you are to gratefully accept it at once. Atonce. He’s not a man who likes to be trifled with. Once you are a Marchioness, you will be set for life. You’ll besafe, Pippa, can you not see that? And believe me, it is safer not to be in love. Love is pain, and there’s no avoiding it. But a nice, clean relationship built only on mutual respect and a cool distance, well, that is the thing entirely.” Bridget punctuated her words with a nod, as if energetic nodding might convince her daughter.
They stared at each other for a long moment. Pippa could hear her heart thumping in her ears. She felt sick, and there could be any number of causes. The hot sun, the movement of the carriage, or perhaps the realisation that her own mother would cease to love her if she did not marry a marquess.
“If Papa could see you now,” Pippa heard herself say, her voice expressionless, “he’d weep.”
White-hot anger flared in Bridget’s face. She stiffened, leaning forward, arm pulled back as if she meant to deliver a slap.
Pippa stared at her hand. “Go on, then, Mama. Hit me. I shan’t hit you back.”
Bridget controlled herself with an effort, dropping her hand to her lap.
“Insolent girl,” she hissed, lips tight. “But I have said what I have said. If you wish to continue being considered as my daughter, you’ll marry the man I have picked out for you. You’ll thank me in time.”
Pippa said nothing. It didn’t seem to matter.
Chapter Eighteen
Nathan blinked up at the butler as if he might have misheard.
“LordDavenport? We haven’t a meeting scheduled.”
