Page 53 of A Brilliant Match
“What happened?” Dorothea found herself breathless. She did not remember ever having a conversation like this with her mother—one that was so open, although Sophia had frequently mentioned speaking with Mama on all manner of things. It made her think that perhaps if they were not close, it was Dorothea who was at fault.
“Your father lost interest in me almost from the minute we returned from our honeymoon. He did his duty as a husband, but did not cease to remind me of the disparity of our connection.”
Dorothea recalled many conversations where her father had told her the same thing, urging her to choose wisely when it came time to select a husband. Of course, he had always presented it as though he would be there to approve the one who would eventually win her hand.
“I was terribly affected by this, as you might imagine, and my only solace was the growing family we had built together.”
She turned her eyes to the far end of the room as though she could not bear to bring them to Dorothea. “Your father was not precisely a faithful man, and in my girlhood, I had always hoped I might at least have fidelity in my marriage. I suppose I was not precisely fashionable in that sense, for women of thetonare taught to turn a blind eye when a husband’s eye starts to wander.”
“I would not have accepted it so readily either.” Dorothea had the foreign urge to hug her mother, but she could not do it. They had never had that sort of a relationship that she could remember. Her father had not helped the matter when he said such things as how it was more proper that the governess should raise her, since Miss Cross was more equipped than her mother to teach the finer arts of a lady.
“I know you have always been in a rush to marry,” her mother said. “But I urge you not to fly into a decision too quickly. It is not a shameful thing to have a second or a third season. Take your time in choosing, my dear. Find a gentleman who will make you exceedingly happy.”
Dorothea looked down, blinking away an overwhelming sentimentality. “I will take that into consideration.”
She breathed in and clutched her hands together. The urge was great to ask her mother whether the distance in their relationship was due to her. Was it her fault? She opened her mouth to ask it, but then her mother made a move to stand.
“We have not yet had tea this afternoon. I will ring for some.” Lady Poole went over to the bell pull and waited by the door for Mrs. Platt to come.
The moment was lost.
Chapter20
Sophia had expressed a wish for a quiet day at home and was happily embroidering while Dorothea held a book in front of her that she was not reading. Camilla had decided to remain in the nursery with Joanna and Tilly because they were makingpapier mâchéflowers to glue to a frame and she hoped to become more skilled in the art. Evo was heaven knew where, and their mother was resting in her room.
Dorothea longed to be out where she could distract herself from her thoughts. All she had been able to think about—besides the bittersweet memory that returned, unbidden, of what it was like to have Miles embrace her—was the way he had corrected her. That, and whether she had been wrong about her family all along.
Her mother’s disclosure had caused her to think. She could not have had many happy moments in her marriage. It was therefore unsurprising that she should present to the world and even to her children the appearance of a woman crushed by life. Dorothea was beginning to look at her with more understanding and compassion than she had before.
She had also begun to look at Camilla with new eyes, and what she observed astonished her. Camilla, she was beginning to believe, was not dull or dim-witted. Quite the contrary! When she bothered to lift her voice, it was to say something insightful or humorous—very often both at once. One only had to listen for it.
And of course Sophia might lack some of the will or courage that Dorothea had, but she was far from empty-headed. Her strengths merely lay in different areas. In her kindness and attention to the needs of others. And she had known before Dorothea did how desirable it was to achieve a love match. How had she gained such insight?
Miles had turned Dorothea’s priorities around and challenged her manner of seeing the world. And then, without a moment’s hesitation, he went back to treating her exactly as he had before, his affection undimmed despite her flaws. It caused her to want to trust him with her heart’s secrets. He pulled confidences from her heart gently and restored them to her with the additional luster of understanding. He was becoming indispensable to her, and it occurred to her in a wondering sort of way whether this was not what love was.
It required no time to have her answer. She very likely loved him back. Yet, although he had said he loved her, he had not returned and proposed a second time. She could only imagine it was because he did not dare. Although they had made peace over his initial duplicity in seeking a wife, they had never reverted to more tender conversations that could allow her to inform him that maybe she was not as opposed to marrying him as she had led him to believe.
His circumstances had not changed. Oh, he was now the heir presumptive to an earldom should something happen to Lord Pembroke, but not only did she not wish for anything to happen to the current earl, she found that his closer connection to the peerage did not weigh with her in the least. His financial difficulties had not changed, and she began to think that it might not be so terrible to allow him the use of her dowry to reverse his fortunes, if her dowry were enough. If it was not, could they not shift together somehow? Two people who could speak openly to one another, to give and receive the forgiveness needed for flawed humans. Two people who loved each other.
Because then she would be married to him. She would have his mother and sister as family to add to her own. She could dance with him as often as she wished, and laugh with him. Be instructed by him and instruct him in turn. They would be friends.
Maybe you should take matters into your own hands.The thought circled around and around in a loop until it filled her mind and became difficult to ignore. Of course, she could not tell him how she felt about him… Women did not do that sort of thing. It was up to the man to declare the state of his heart.
But he said he loved you, and you rejected him.
The door to the drawing room opened, and Turton entered. “Mr. Shaw is here to see you, my lady.”
The book slid off of Dorothea’s lap and landed on the floor with a thud. She had not heard anyone at the door. She glanced at Sophia, who had apparently not heard it either. Perhaps the butler had discerned movement outside and opened before Miles could knock. They both stood.
“Good afternoon,” Miles said with a bow. He brought the scent of spring in with him.
“Mr. Shaw, if you don’t mind, I shall leave you to talk,” Sophia said after greeting him with a curtsy. “I have a letter I wish to write.”
She had tucked the embroidery under a cushion and went to the far end of the drawing room where the desk was and sat.
Miles’s eyes registered the kindness of this action, although there was something troubling in his look that concerned Dorothea. He sat at her invitation.
She prepared herself to speak, her heart hammering at what she’d just been imagining she might say to him, but when the time came, her courage deserted her. The silence stretched until it was broken by him clearing his throat.
