Page 4 of Sense and Suitability
But it was so. Gentlewomen had to be rescued by matrimony, inheritance, or death, for they were not usually given a living and were certainly not allowed to earn one.
Unless it was secret.
“Of course. It’s just that we weren’t expecting your visit quite so”—Emme almost said “early” but then thought better of it—“soon after your arrival. How have you found the rectory?”
Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but his mother overrode his attempt. “Better suited than I expected.” Her face softened a little but not enough to garner much hope toward optimism. “I will not be ashamed to remain for the season. Thomas’s uncle offered a rectory of no mean salary and situation. What parson do you know with five hundred a year?”
Thomas winced at the blunt declaration of his private matters. True, everyone knew, but the subject of such gossip rarely wished to hear it dangled about like a prize to be won. Or a horse to be sold.
“Indeed. I have no doubt my youngest son will be the talk of St. Groves in no time.”
He already was, and none of the single ladies of the parish had even laid eyes on him yet. “Single” proved a powerfully magnetizing word among the Christian and pagan alike, especially when paired with such an income!
Emme raised her brows and smiled at Thomas. “I’m certain the position will make an excellentmatchof its own for Cousin Thomas.”His eyes narrowed in playful parrying as Emme continued. “I would hazard a guess the church will be particularly full this Sunday of people curious to hear from the new rector, especially the young ladies.”
“Young ladies?” Aunt Bean’s frown expanded her chin to three. “What do we care for other young ladies? We are here to discuss you, Emmeline.” She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes and attention with such intensity that Emme’s throat tightened. “I give you my word, I will have you married before I return to Bristol to celebrate my first grandchild’s birth.”
All humor fled Emme’s body, replaced instead by a chill that ran up her spine at the determination emanating from Aunt Bean’s terrifying expression. Why did the prospect of marriage have to sound more like a threat than a promise? Emme was certain the original design offered much more joy and happiness than whatever gleamed in Aunt Bean’s pale eyes.
Thomas stepped in before Aunt Bean could elaborate further. “Mother, I know you are the preeminent expert on finding women husbands, if youdosay so yourself.” He studied his mother, the gleam in his eyes in contrast to his complacent grin. “But must we discuss matchmaking upon our first arrival at Thistlecroft?”
“How can we not?” Aunt Bean’s entire body stiffened so fast that her hat shook. “We have much to repair!”
Thank you for the reminder, Aunt Bean.Yet another barb to stick into Emme’s lingering incompetence. But she’d learned her lesson. Do not trust intelligence, handsome features, and a quick wit.
Or excellent dancing skills.
And delightful conversation.
Or a tender heart.
She nearly groaned. What on earth was left to rely upon?
“This is of utmost importance to Emmeline’s future and weighs heavily on her father’s mind.”
It was unlikely Father spent a great deal of time considering hisdaughters’ futures, but of course Father could be easily swayed into worrying about something or other, especially to ensure Aunt Bean’s speedy departure. How the woman winkled her way into an invitation in the first place probably involved a little bullying, a heavy dose of guilt, and a massive amount of sweets.
“You haven’t even met the prospects yet.” Thomas cast a sympathetic look in Emme’s direction. “There may not be a decent fellow in the lot.”
“We are in St. Groves, Thomas.” Her nose rose even higher, if that was possible. “Not some backwater country parish. There are plenty of eligible men who will do for Emmeline.” Her hawk eyes returned to Emme. “Whether Emmeline will do for them is why I am required.”
After another dramatic second of scrutiny, Aunt Bean released Emme from her gaze and stepped, cane in rhythm, to finally be poised in a chair.Seatedwas a much too relaxed word for Aunt Bean’s position.
“Whether Emme will do for them?” Thomas’s brows rose in exaggerated mock horror before he turned. Cradling his chin with his thumb and forefinger, he examined Emme, his gaze glimmering like the mischievous boy he used to be. “Well, her eyes are tolerably large and her nose has an acceptable slope.” He waved a dismissive hand toward her, the dimple in one cheek the only mark of his teasing. “But there is the question of her chin.”
Emme nearly lost complete control of her laugh. Thank God for Thomas and his desire to keep the conversation away from the past. Oh, how she’d missed him. Apart from her sister, Aster, he’d been her dearest friend in all the world. “Ah yes, many a marriage has been ruined over an imperfect chin.”
“Chins are in fashion, I am told. And yours is suitable enough.” Aunt Bean squinted in focused study of the offending protrusion. “But your nose is rather fine too, despite being marred by those unsightlyfreckles. The waters in Bath would do wonders for your complexion, Emmeline.”
Emme bit her smile into submission. Thank the Lord she wasn’t wearing her spectacles to complete the ensemble of inadequacies. “I have heard similar tales.”
“She’s not too tall,” Thomas interjected with a lopsided grin. “And she does read devotionally.”
Emme rolled her eyes. Trust her cousin to weave such nonsense into her aunt’s relentless critique.
“I have every confidence we will secure an excellent match now that I am here to set things right.” Aunt Bean raised her cane like a pointer. “We start at a disadvantage, naturally, but despite the mishap of your first season, followed by an unfruitful second, your reputation has only been slightly tarnished. Mercifully, no true scandal has occurred, even if its stench remains.”
How reassuring. No true scandal—only mortifying humiliation and the lingering ache of a shattered heart. But what were those trifles when set against the towering edifice of matrimony?
