“That will do, Jane.” Hari waved dismissively at her abigail, then waited until she left the room to speak again. “There are more complications.”
“What?”
“It’s his uncle Lord Ainsley. He told Charles that he’s ready to declare him his heir and to pass on his seat in the House of Lords to him. So Charles wants to be very careful not to attract gossip of any kind. Nothing that could affect Lord Ainsley’s decision.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I wanted to ask why everything had to revolve around Charles and his ambition, but I didn’t.
Hari let out a sigh. “Women of a certain age need to be properly married with children or settled in a suitable position for a spinster—a governess, for example.”
I shivered at the thought of being a governess and the exhausting boredom it entailed. I wanted something more exciting. Someday I would marry, of course, but I was just twenty-one. Surely I had time to make a match. Harriet was twenty-five and had only wedded three years ago. She and Charles hadn’t even started their own family yet. I knew that unmarried women attracted gossip—that while seldom true was always malicious—but I doubted people had much of anything to say about me, certainly nothing that would influence Charles’s aspirations negatively.
“But George?” I wondered aloud.
“You should be pleased,” Hari said. “Many women would consider George a prime catch. He’s just been appointed chief whip, an enormously powerful position. Everyone in Charles’s circle fawns over him. He can make or destroy a parliamentarian’s career with just a word to the prime minister.”
I flopped back on the bed. “I grant you that George seems an attractive-enough fellow in a balding, middle-aged sort of way. Just the sort of very respectable husband women yearn for. But I don’t know if we would be happy together. I’m not even sure I’m ready to marry.”
“I’ve just said you have no other option!” Harriet cried.
The sudden sharpness in her voice startled me, and I sat up. “What do you mean? What’s wrong, Harriet?”
“I’m sorry.” She came towards me and took one of my hands in her own. “But I do worry about you sometimes, Charlotte. One hears such dreadful tales. You remember Mildred Winthrope? Really quite a lovely little thing, wellborn but certainly poor. By her third season she still hadn’t found a husband and was forced to beg from relatives. She died last winter. Caught a cold, and in her weakened state she was gone in a fortnight.” Hari dropped my hand. “They had to bury her in a pauper’s grave!”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Do I look like I’m about to fade away from lack of nutrition? If George doesn’t make me an offer, I have another thought.” It was hardly formed, if I was being honest, but Harriet seemed to think that this marriage was my last chance for a good life, and I wanted to reassure her. The intense setting sun emerged from behind a tall tree, sending an unforgiving light through the three west-facing windows. Was it a sign?
Harriet leaned towards me, brows raised. “Don’t tell me someone else is dangling after you. Someone wealthy? Connected? You are full of surprises. Do tell.”
“No, nothing like that. It’s something else entirely.” I’d seen an advertisement posted in the broadsheets for a new veterinary program just yesterday and it had piqued my interest. I had always loved animals, whether it was barn cats, hunting dogs, or the majestic racehorses my father bred. As a girl, I spent my daylight hours tramping around our estate. Mama was always so preoccupied with making social connections, going to parties, and working to find the right match for Harriet, I don’t think she noticed, or if she did, she let it go. When our estate was in arrears and we’d had to let most of the help go, I tried to keep the animals and livestock in good condition until they were sold, but we’d had to get in Dr. Boyd, a veterinary surgeon, to tend to the racehorses, one of whom was pregnant. Harriet had seen the work as beneath me, but in truth, I’d enjoyed it.
I gave Harriet’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I had a thought about applying to the inaugural veterinary apprenticeship course.”
Harriet dropped my hand as the vein in her temple began to throb. People often assumed that a beautiful woman would have a sweet temperament to match her angelic looks, but that was rarely true.
“Do not for one moment think that you are a candidate for this ridiculous scheme. Because if that is where this conversation is headed, you can stop right now. Besides, I’m certain they would never accept a woman.”
“Not as a veterinary surgeon, no, but perhaps as an assistant. It would be something to fill my days. Something besides social calls and parties.”
“I can’t imagine what sort of woman would apply for this, certainly no lady of quality.” Harriet didn’t seem to realize how loudly she was speaking until I shushed her. Maids always seemed to be lurking about this vast house. She lowered her voice. “There are things happening that you are not aware of. Wheels are in motion. We have no input and no control over them. And time is running out for us, for you. You must marry, and soon, or Charles will create your future for you, one I doubt you would choose for yourself.”
Her humourless eyes worried me. We often liked to gently tease each other, but not today. She was like this when she was trying to shield me from trouble. She did it when Papa was struggling with the estate, and she was doing it now. I took her hand in mine again. “It was just a thought. Nothing to get upset about.”
“Of course.” She got up and walked towards the window. “But honestly, Char, I think you have a lot of our father’s romantic recklessness in you.”
Her last comment was like a
