Page 72 of Sense and Suitability
“Mother, I must protest,” Thomas interjected, though his tone held more exasperation than outrage.
“Do you not recall what became of you the last time you set your cap at a gentleman well above your station?” Aunt Bean continued, undeterred. She sipped her wine with deliberate precision, her gaze steady over the rim. “And with the verysameman.”
“I am not setting my cap at him.” Emme dabbed at her mouth with her napkin to give her fingers something to do. “I saw a need and sought to meet it, as a friend might.”
Mostly true, though some of her thoughts about this particular “friend” had ventured dangerously close to the scandalous.
Aunt Bean sniffed, her skepticism unabated. “Friendship between a single gentleman of title and an unmarried lady of no consequence is folly unless it leads to matrimony, an inheritance upon his untimely demise, or favor with his mother. Since he appears in robust health and his mother is, regrettably, departed, I can only assume your aim is marriage.”
“Mother,” Thomas admonished.
“It is simply the way of the world, dear,” Aunt Bean replied without so much as a glance his way.
“Perhaps we might aspire to something nobler than the way of the world,” Thomas said, leaning back in his chair.
Father muffled a chuckle behind his napkin, though Aunt Bean seemed impervious to her son’s rebuke.
“My intentions”—Emme held Aunt Bean’s stare, refusing to bend—“are purely out of goodwill. Have you considered that possibility?”
Aunt Bean gave a faint, disbelieving snort. “Women in your position, Emmeline, with a prior attachment to said gentleman, do not squander their goodwill on an impossibility.” She paused briefly. “I hear his estate teeters on ruin, thanks to his cousin’s unorthodox business patterns and overindulgent spending. With no fortune of his own and little hope of inheriting from his late father’s dissipations, Lord Ravenscross cannot afford to marry for sentiment, even if”—her lips curled faintly—“such sentiment existed.”
“Oh, I think sentiment is very much present,” Aster chimed in sweetly, her youthful grin belying the mischief in her words. “You should have seen how he looked at her.”
Emme shot Aster a warning glance. Not helpful.
“What man wouldn’t show some gratitude for a woman who is taking his siblings from under foot for an entire afternoon?” Aunt Bean countered with another weighted look at Emme. “Mark my words, he will take your kindness, and you will be left with nothing for your trouble, just as before.”
The barb might have struck deeper if Emme still nurtured hopes of marrying Simon. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Truly, there was no way forward for them. Which meant her charity was entirely... well,mostly... charity. She almost smiled at the realization—Aunt Bean’s criticism lacked its usual sting.
“Did you find the Sutherlands well?” Father redirected smoothly, tipping his glass toward Emme. “I believe Cook has prepared a dessert using some of your spoils.”
Emme thanked Father with a grateful smile.
“Strawberry trifle, I believe,” he continued, patting his stomach. “And I, for one, plan to benefit from Emme’sgoodwillin bringing those strawberries for our enjoyment.”
“I second that, Uncle,” Thomas added, turning to Aster. “Aster, how did you enjoy your visit to the Sutherlands’?”
“Exceedingly.” Aster dabbed her serviette against her smile. “Mrs. Thornbury was a wealth of information—she’s traveled more places than I’ve even read about.”
“Mrs. Thornbury?” Aunt Bean’s head jerked up with such suddenness, the feathers on her head gave a violent shake in protest. “Do you mean Mrs. Agatha Bennett Thornbury?” The name was produced with enough venom to add a little hiss on the sibilant sounds.
Aster froze, her cheer dimming under Aunt Bean’s thunderous glare.
“Bina, there is no need to—” Father began, but Aunt Bean plowed ahead.
“No wonder Emmeline is behaving so rashly!” She shook her head, her feathers quivering with each emphatic motion. “That woman is notorious for stealing eligible gentlemen right from under more deserving ladies’ noses. Spending time in her company has clearly influenced our dear Emmeline.”
It was remarkable how Aunt Bean could distort the meaning of the worddearin the way she spoke it.
Thomas groaned, while Aster exchanged a wide-eyed look with Emme.
“That was years ago, Bina,” Father said. “And—”
“And,” Aunt Bean interrupted, “she ruthlessly pursued a man already interested in another woman.”
“As I recall”—Father stared at his sister meaningfully—“the lady in question did not return his attentions, which led him to look elsewhere for a bride.”
Aster’s eyes widened further, and Emme felt her own mirroring the expression. What on earth was this thinly veiled conversation referencing? A former suitor of Aunt Bean’s?
