Page 10 of A Zephyr Rising
“Having the Martins stay here isn’t possible.We must close the house—it would be too expensive to keep it open while the family is in Cairo.”Her father folded his newspaper and looked directly at Ginger.“But speaking of your mother and the Martins, she mentioned to me last night she wanted to go and call on Mrs.Martin today.Perhaps you’d be keen to accompany her.”
“I would, thank you.Lucy, would you like to go, too?”Ginger met Henry’s eyes, knowing he’d easily be able to see her laughter.
Henry chortled as Lucy shuddered.
“No, thank you!”Lucy raised her chin.“I can think of a thousand other ways I’d like to spend my morning.Next, you’ll be asking me to go downstairs and help the cook.”
As though a lesson in cooking wouldn’t do them all a world of good right now.Ginger couldn’t revile Lucy for that, though.Her own knowledge of the kitchen was nonexistent.
“Help the cook?You’d likely burn the house down.”Henry gave her a pointed look.“But your governess might need to take you on some charity outings.You’re turning into a proper snob.”
At least someone had said it.
Lucy’s formerly round and childish face was beginning to take a lovely shape, her cheekbones stronger.She was getting older.The gap in their ages had made it nearly impossible for them to be playmates—not to mention the time Ginger had spent away at finishing school.She’d hardly noticed Lucy growing up behind her and had often relegated her to being little more than a child.Maybe none of them had paid as much attention to Lucy’s highbrow attitude as they should have.
Ginger broughther concerns about Lucy up with her mother as they rode into the village later that afternoon.“Mother, I wonder if Lucy isn’t getting a little too wrapped up in this idea of finishing school and being out in society.She was in tears when father mentioned she might have a delay with the war.”
A strand of her mother’s red hair flew into her eyes and she tucked it away behind her ear.She smiled placidly.“Ginger, she’s always admired you.And you’ve had so much success in London.I’m sure she wants to be like you.”
“Success?”The hillsides were lush and Ginger imagined the sea in the distance and the spray of salt in the breeze.Penmore’s proximity to the seaside made it a favorite for their extended family to come and visit in the summer months.While the rest of London was closing the Season and heading to hunts in Scotland and the North, they’d always left early to spend some time near the sea.
Not this year, though.Ginger sighed.Who knew when she could go sea-bathing next?
Her mother brought her mind back to the conversation.“Yes, you’ve had success whether you appreciate it or not.”Lady Braddock folded her hands on her lap.“I take it you don’t want to accept Stephen?Is there a reason you’re so hesitant?You may come to love him.”
“And I may never love him.”The sun beat on her through the window, and she angled toward the shaded side of the car.“But it’s more than that—there’s something about Stephen which worries me.As much as you may like Lord Knotley and Rufus, Stephen is neither of those men.Even though Henry has always seen him like a brother, that’s not reason enough for me to trust him.I can’t put my finger on it, Mother.It’s a feeling I don’t quite understand myself.”
“Well,” her mother searched her gaze, “it’s only natural for a woman to have some nerves about the prospect of marriage.Especially these days.But marriage isn’t the prison some of those suffragettes would have you believe, either.”
The implication that she objected to marriage instead of the prospective groom was maddening.Was it possible she’d allowed herself to become poisoned and prejudiced against Stephen without good reason?Her family seemed to disregard her concerns too easily.Her mind scrambled to help her explain herself better.“No, that’s not it.I have this sense there should be something more to the whole thing.Excitement at the very least.But when I think of marrying Stephen, all I feel is dread.And Father seems determined I should marry him no matter what I feel.”
Her mother’s lips bunched, revealing soft creases in the skin around her mouth.“Your father has financial considerations to keep in mind.Stephen has promised to give his financial help with Penmore.And your father has many concerns about the economy—especially now with the country at war.”
Her father had implied as much, but it didn’t help Ginger feel any more convinced about Stephen being right for her.She resented feeling like a disposable asset in a financial transaction.“But now that Henry’s become so besotted with Angelica Fisher, shouldn’t that match be enough for Father to feel more secure about the future of Penmore?”
Her mother adjusted the scarf knot under her chin.“Yes, well, we all thought it would settle things when Henry asked for Charlotte Thompson’s hand also, didn’t we?Yet she threw away the chance to be a countess without thinking twice.”
Charlotte’s decision had stunned everyone—except for Ginger.The day Charlotte had met Robert, she’d practically glowed while telling Ginger about him.Her blue eyes had held a sparkle Ginger had never seen.“But won’t your parents be furious?”Ginger had asked her.
“And what of it?”Charlotte had responded.“We’re expected to do nothing more than marry, but if that’s going to be the sum of it, at the very least I’ll marry whom I like.And who knows, maybe there’ll be more to life besides calls, charity drives, and fashion afterward.Times are changing, after all.”
Charlotte’s scathing critique of the life had left Ginger unsettled.Her depiction of the life of women in their circle was spot-on.Even child-rearing belonged to nannies and governesses.She stared at her gloved ring finger, thinking of the diamond Stephen had offered her.Charlotte’s family had been furious, but they hadn’t disinherited her either.But Charlotte was also an heiress.
In Ginger’s case, the situation was less favorable.Henry would inherit.And even if Henry wasn’t the oldest, the entail on the family’s estate wouldn’t allow her to inherit—only the closest male heir.Her best option was to marry well.
For once, though, Ginger wished she could do whatever her heart wanted.The only young man she’d ever been remotely interested in, Charles Wallace, had never even noticed her.She didn’t want to remember her humiliation.Rather than being swept away by romance, she’d watched him pursue her cousin, Meg, who had rejected him.
Was she destined to forget the childish fantasy of true love?
She blinked away the old memories.“Charlotte had the freedom offered by her inheritance to choose whomever she wanted.I don’t blame her for choosing love.”
Her mother gave her a sympathetic smile.“You shouldn’t let Charlotte’s decision influence your own, then.You don’t have the same luxuries.”
Her mother’s words weighed heavily on Ginger’s heart.A burning feeling rose at the base of her throat.“But what if Charlotte chose wisely?She’s happy, Mother.The women campaigning for rights don’t have everything quite right, but they raise valid questions.And I don’t want to feel unduly forced to marry Stephen to ease Father’s worries.It may have been the choice you had to make, but why should I have to do the same?”
Her mother’s mouth dipped into a frown, displeasure shadowing her eyes.“If I had chosen differently, you wouldn’t be here.”She cleared her throat, clearly more annoyed by Ginger’s comment than she wanted to verbalize.
Ginger forced her gaze on the passing blur of the landscape.Maybe she wasn’t being fair to her mother, but she couldn’t help it, either.Her mother had obviously been interested in the title and comfort her father had offered her in her youth.Neither of those things would tempt her to marry a man like Stephen.
