Page 162 of The Sisters of Sea View
Lady Kennaway frowned at her, then turned to Emily. “I am not the least acquainted with this person.”
“That is all right,” Emily soothed, taking her arm companionably. “She will be departing soon. But you, I trust, can stay and take tea with us? Mamma has been longing to meet you.”
“With pleasure.”
Mr. Elton handed over banknotes and gold coins to make up the total.
Sarah accepted them with relief. “Thank you, Mr. Elton.”
He gave her an apologetic nod and left the room.
When Viola returned to Westmount the next day, Taggart opened the door to her as usual. Inside the house, however, she was immediately met by Major Hutton, dressed in a dark blue frock coat, light pantaloons, and a fine waistcoat striped in tan and ivory.
“Miss Summers, might I have a word?” His manner seemed as formal as his attire.
“Of course.”
She supposed he now regretted that kiss and intended to renew distance between them and restore their relative positions as employer and paid staff.
She followed him into the drawing room, which again seemed so formal after all the hours they had spent in his private room.
Once there, he began, “I have thought a great deal about our ... last meeting. I realized that you might, very justifiably, assume that my behavior would, or at least should, lead to a declaration. You are a gentleman’s daughter, a lady, and have every right to expect a gentleman to behave honorably toward you. I acted without thinking and allowed my emotions to...”
Defenses rising, Viola held up a hand. “Please stop. I don’t expect anything from you. You are under no obligation whatever. You no doubt regret our ... what took place, so let us say no more about it. Forget it ever happened.”
He looked at her earnestly, appearing almost hurt. “Can you forget it? I cannot.”
She blinked up at him. What did he expect her to say? She tried again. “I simply want to assure you, you are under no obligation. I expect, nay, want, nothing from you.”
His brow furrowed. “You injure me.”
She huffed. “What do you want from me? I am releasing you. Is that not what you hoped for? You are clearly regretting our”—she lowered her voice—“kiss.”
“No. Not exactly. In all honesty, I am torn. As you are no doubt well aware, I am not a whole man. Making you an offer of marriage, while perhaps on the surface the honorable thing, would be incredibly selfish. If I were truly honorable, I would let you go.”
“Nonsense. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing that disqualifies you from the marital state.”
“Blind in one eye, deaf in one ear, and half a scarred face do not disqualify me?”
“Far from it. Your injuries do not bother me. You are still a man, with much to offer a woman. But that woman is not me. I have no intention of marrying. In fact, I have long been resigned to being unmarriageable.”
“Have you? Why?”
“Don’t be stupid. It’s obvious I should not have children. Marrying you ... marrying anyone would be irresponsible.”
“Has a physician told you that? Or is this your own conclusion?”
“I don’t think physicians know a great deal about it, but most people blame the mother, assuming she must have had impure thoughts or seen a hare or someone with a cleft lip. But I don’t know that it isnotinheritable, as much as red hair or freckles or any other trait passed from parent to child.”
“Is it not God who knits children together in their mother’s womb? If He allows it, must there not be a reason?”
“What reason? What possible reason... what possible good, can result from this?” She jerked a hand toward her mouth.
His gaze lingered there. “I can think of something.”
Looking away, he cleared his throat and asked, “What is your minor scar to mine? In your economy, I am far less worthy than you are.”
“Not at all. You were not born this way. Your flaws are not transmissible to passersby or your offspring.”
