Page 19 of Margins of Love
Rachel ran to her room and threw herself onto her bed. She pressed her face into the down pillow and sobbed uncontrollably. It was just so unfair. Everything was so unfair. She wanted to stay at home with Sammy and her parents and her books. This stranger, her betrothed, might not let her read. Or he might be ugly. Or he might not smell as good as Fave. He certainly would never describe her eyes as Montana sapphires glistening with hints of green. His hands wouldn’t feel like Fave’s, smooth and calloused at the same time. He was probably clumsy, lacking Fave’s grace. His features couldn’t possibly be more handsome than Fave’s.
Oh, Fave. She longed for him to like her, and she did not even understand why it mattered so to her. She did not want him to know about her betrothal. The most handsome man she had ever seen. Time passed as Rachel wallowed in her tears. She desired Fave, but she could not have him. She was doomed.
Rachel did not know for how long she’d been fuming atop her bed when her mother knocked once and did not wait for permission before opening the door. “You are still in your dress?”
“I was reading, Mama.” Rachel looked up at her mother through teary eyes, but did not want her to worry and trigger another episode. By now, she had thought of every reason why she could not have at least a bit of fun with Fave. And if she couldn’t have any with Fave, then her new husband would most likely not be any fun either. Her mind spiraled around what ifs followed by must nots.
Her mother came closer and sat on the bed beside her. Rachel looked at her, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. Her mother exhaled, looking heavy-hearted, and took Rachel’s head on her lap. As she stroked Rachel’s hair, she removed the pins and caressed her cascading waves. As only a mother could, she wrapped small strands of hair around her fingers. She obviously still took delight in her Rachel’s curly strands.
“Let’s get you ready for dinner. When you were little, I always combed your locks around my fingers to makefleishalech, bottleneck curls.” She wrapped one strand after another around her fingers.
“Mama, I cannot marry a stranger. And pay for it!” Terror permeated her voice. It was truly preposterous! Maybe this was what dumb, old, ugly girls had to do, but Rachel was none of those. She was aware of her luscious figure, her well-proportioned face, her wit, and her fortune. It made no sense to her, yet she knew a love match was simply out of the question.
Her mother pushed her head back down on her lap. Rachel wondered how many more times her mother would comfort her like this before she was married off to some stranger and moved away?
“I spoke to your father.”
“You did?”
“Mhm.” Her mother began to smile.
Rachel knew her mother had hatched a plan. At moments like these Rachel would do anything for her parents—and Sammy, of course. They were like musketeers, one for all and all for one. But then reality came back, and Rachel realized that she was taking a stranger as her husband for them all. A high price to pay indeed, and yet no price would be too high to keep her family from suffering as they had in Lausanne.
“Stop brooding now,” her mother said. “Here is what we will do.”
Her mother explained how she had convinced Rachel’s father to half her dowry. Half would be tied into theketubah, the marriage contract.
“The other half is your security,” she finished.
“I don’t understand.”
“A fallback. We are giving you twenty-eight thousand pounds, enough to live on for the rest of your life. Invest it wisely. It is your choice how. You get this money only once, so be careful what you do with it.”
Rachel held her breath. Her parents were taking a leap of faith for her. “But why?” she finally asked.
“Because we are not selling you off to the highest bidder, or whatever it is your dramatic mind has told you.”
Rachel blanched. She straightened and looked at her mother’s warm eyes, seeing the sorrow, the love, the pain, and the joy in them. She would do anything for her family. Anything.
That night, Rachel could not fall asleep. She thought about the money. Her fall back. She knew that lending it, she would be splitting it up and lower the risk of losing it all at once. This was one way to ensure that most of it would remain at her disposal. But she also knew that, as a woman, she could hardly get her debtors to pay by demand. No, she had to find another way.
The stock exchange could help her avoid the loss of buying power over time. But she did not understand its mechanics, and the two months of ton season would surely be too little time to learn. And a man, probably her husband, would have to manage the affairs with a bank. That would defeat the purpose of the money in the first place. She had to manage it another way.
Her mind drifted off on tangents, and she thought of Fave again. She had heard him speaking to another man at dinner, one just as young and vibrant as Fave, maybe his brother. No, it must be the cousin Lizzie had mentioned. No matter, his hair was not as golden, his jaw not as chiseled and edgy as Fave’s. Rachel sighed at the thought of Fave’s smiling eyes. He had said something about emeralds to the brunette man. She had not wanted to seem ignorant, so she had read about emeralds at the Brockton House library after dinner. Rachel never wanted to be one of those girls who blinked dumbly and fanned herself instead of picking up a book to look up what she did not understand.
He had been cooler at dinner tonight. Rachel had noticed their hostess’ watchful eye on him. She knew to steer clear of Lady Bustle-Smith, but it was difficult for she was in her house, in the lion’s cave, so to speak. The distance was relative, and she had to play her debutante role diligently. There was no room for error.
Her mind’s eye returned to the drawing-room where the women had retreated for a sherry after the meal. Her mother had introduced Rachel to several matrons, and Rachel spoke to a group of girls about her age, all unmarried. She had quickly realized that those girls only talked after they had exchanged glances to get permission to impar their opinion.Sheep.An extension of Allison’s entourage, she supposed. Amanda did not even greet her. It was not worth Rachel’s energy to ponder why.
She replayed one moment over and over. The women of the ton were always decorated with the finest jewelry. And though she was not a true member of the ton, she had the money now to buy herself whatever jewels she liked. This evening, however, the ladies had constantly fawned over their hostess’s emerald necklace. Rachel thought it was a nice color, but she had only seen it from afar.
That was it! Jewels! Or better, one particular jewel she could wear at all times. Her faceless, nameless husband would not consider it her dowry, nor would he expect her to remove it if she went out. It was a fortune she could keep on her body, wherever she went.
Excitement tingled through her. She had figured out what to do with her money. Now she had to find a way to obtain it.
CHAPTER16
Fave took the side door into the library. It was late and he did not expect to see anyone there. He found himself looking for the antique books before resuming work on his sketches. Whatever the emerald’s characteristics, he needed to have a few designs ready.
