Page 20 of To Wed an Heiress
She’d been cosseted, protected, and wrapped in bunting for fear that something might happen to her. If she wanted a new book one was delivered to save her a trip to the bookstore. All manner of people came through the doorway of their house to offer a multitude of products to the Rutherford heiress: sweets, dresses, hats, gloves, shoes, lace, hairpins. She didn’t need to lift a finger and anything she wanted was provided.
How did she tell her aunt about the guards who accompanied her everywhere? Or when she had the sniffles, five physicians were called in to treat her? It was as if her parents were terrified she was going to be stolen or was going to die at any moment.
“Freedom,” Mercy said. “I needed to get away.”
“Couldn’t you have settled for something easier, instead of crossing an ocean?”
She didn’t answer that question. It wouldn’t have worked to simply visit another town or state. She needed to get far enough away that her father couldn’t send men out looking for her. She didn’t have any doubt that he would have done exactly that and that she would have been returned home within days.
“Was your life so bad that you would do something so dangerous, Mercy?”
“I felt like I was in a prison, Aunt.”
“We’re all in some kind of prison, my dear niece. Life itself is a prison. We’re all expected to behave in certain ways,” Elizabeth continued. “Society dictates our behavior. Decency, honor, loyalty—they are not just traits that men possess.”
“Why can’t you possess all of those traits and still have some control over your life?”
“It’s not that easy,” Elizabeth said.
“I should think it would be no more difficult than a decision. How do I wish to live my life? In accordance with someone else’s notions of it? Or doing what I want to do?”
“Isn’t that a selfish way to behave?”
“Is it? I know men who behave that way, Elizabeth, and they’re heralded as having their own minds, of being trailblazers.”
“Are you talking about Lennox Caitheart?”
She’d been thinking of Gregory, who did exactly what he wanted to do at any time he wanted to do it.
“I wasn’t,” she admitted, “but he might well be an example.”
“You would be foolish to model your behavior after his.”
“Would I? I envy his freedom.” She smoothed her hands over her knees then clasped them again.
For most of her life she’d been a dutiful daughter. She tried to be as perfect as any person could be. Not once had she spoken for herself. If she had she had no doubt about her father’s reaction. You wouldn’t want to cause your mother any pain, would you? She’s suffered so much already. She couldn’t even allow herself thoughts of rebellion, not until the day she actually rebelled.
“You do realize, don’t you, that you’ve done something that must surely be worrying your parents.”
Mercy nodded. “I know and I’m sorry for it.”
She should’ve spoken up years ago, but nothing was ever as important as her parents’ feelings. Hers certainly weren’t. Living in the enormous gray house had been like being encased in glass.
“What made you decide to leave?”
She didn’t know how to explain that, either. One day the glass had simply shattered. She knew she had to escape for a little while. The money was only an excuse, a rationale she’d given herself, but if it hadn’t been there she would’ve done something else, gone somewhere else. If life was the prison her aunt thought it was, she’d become an escaped prisoner.
“You have to go back. You know that, too, don’t you?”
Mercy nodded. “There’s a price you pay for everything you do,” she said. “My father taught me that. I’ll go back and be dutiful once more.” There was no other alternative, but even as she said the words she felt a cloud descend over her mood.
Her aunt sat on the edge of the bed and regarded her somberly. “They must be frantic.”
“I left them a letter, telling them where I was going.”
She’d also told them that she’d taken the valise and intended to convey the money to her aunt and grandmother as her mother had originally wanted. She’d also asked them to stop planning the wedding. She hadn’t wanted them to incur any additional expense because she was determined not to marry Gregory.
“I booked passage on one of Father’s ships, which was tantamount to being chaperoned by the captain and his first officer. They were very kind and promised to take word to my parents that I’d arrived safely.”
