Her father was the opposite of her mother in his temperament. He was quite affectionate, indulgent, and had always supported her when she discouraged a suitor. Even over the powerful Duke of Wolverton, her father had been happy to see her escape, for he truly cared about his daughter’s happiness. “Let us sit, Papa. Shall I ring for more tea?”
“No, my dear, but we must speak with urgency. I fear I cannot delay any longer, and we must have this distasteful conversation.”
The hint of desperation in his words had her mouth drying. She lowered herself into the sofa facing her father. “What is it, Papa?”
A flush worked itself up his face, and he tugged at his cravat with evident nervousness. Anxiety rushed through her. “Please, Papa—”
“I’ve given the viscount my permission to ask for your hand. I expect when the time comes, you shall accept his offer.”
Her stomach twisted in tight, painful knots. “I do not understand. You promised me I would not have to marry someone I did not love.”
He grimaced, rested his elbows atop his knees, and leaned forward. “Our coffers are nigh empty, and I cannot seem to turn our fortunes around.”
Her stomach pitched. “Empty?”
“Yes. We’ve retrenched, your mother has been practicing economy, and I’ve made a few investments with the monies I had, but I fear we acted too late.”
Retrenched?
“Papa, a full war
drobe was ordered for me this season, and for Mamma, too. I see no evidence of practicing economy.” Dear Lord. “Is Elliot aware?” There were rumors that spoke to her brother having a mistress and the lavish way he indulged her. Certainly, if he’d known of their precarious state of finances, he would not have been so reckless in his spending.
“I spoke with your brother last week. He is now aware of his duty.”
“Which is?” Though she feared deep in her heart she knew.
“He has to marry an heiress.”
Good heavens. Unable to sit still, she rose and paced across the room. “And this is the reason I must accept the viscount’s offer?” Evie contained her wince at the pleading note in her voice.
Her father stood. “Yes, my dear, your family is relying on you to make this match. I am relying on you, dear child. An engagement will be announced at your mother’s annual ball in six weeks’ time. Do not make a muck of it as you did with Wolverton. Such antics will not be tolerated.”
“Papa…” What am I to say? She had deliberately schemed to escape marriage to the duke and had caused a terrible scandal. It had been a happy coincidence that the other parties involved were blissfully happy with the situation her scheming had wrought.
“For now, our dire state of affairs is guarded from the ton,” her father continued, as if she had not attempted to speak. “In a matter of weeks, our reputations will come under severe scrutiny. Workers and tenants who are depending on us may very well find themselves in an intolerable situation. Rents must be raised, and many who cannot afford it will have to find new homes. Your mother has already reduced our servants and is closing our townhouse in Bath for the season. There will be no taking the waters for any of us. This family is depending on you and your brother to do your duty.”
His tone brooked no argument, and in truth, how could she not do all in her power to see her family secure?
“My dear child, I am fully aware why you appear so stricken.”
Her heart beat a painful cadenza. “I’m not sure you do, Papa.”
Her father strolled over to her and clasped her hands between his. “The Marquess of Westfall is not for you,” he said gently. “He associates with undesirables. Look at his face. It’s those people he mixes with—no accounts, commoners, thieves, and cutthroats. He is a disgrace to our society. He has ideas, terrible ideas that have seen him make enemies. The arguments he has been pushing in the House of Lords and writing in the Cobbett’s Political Register and The Gentleman’s Magazine are inflammatory.”
A disquieting sadness pierced Evie’s heart. “He is a man I admire very much, Papa,” she said without any discomfort. She’d always been able to discuss the finer sentiments with her father. She’d had his sympathy and understanding when she acted with rashness in breaking the unwanted attachment with the Duke of Wolverton. For her father to abandon all the promises he had made her indicated their situation was dire.
“I’ve been present to witness your admiration of the marquess several times, young lady. The fault lies with me in allowing the friendship you formed with him. My dear,” he said softly. “If Lord Westfall should ever offer for you, despite your mother’s aversion, I would accept.”
Evie gasped. “I thought you found him unsuitable.”
Her father smiled kindly. “He is the heir to a dukedom, and even though his father has cut him off, Lord Westfall is obscenely wealthy if the rumors are to be believed. Certainly, he is more situated to help our family than Viscount Ponsby.”
“Oh, Papa, I wish you would form a favorable idea of him based on his character.” She searched her father’s worried face intently. “How is it that we are in this much debt?”
He winced. “Do not concern yourself with such matters. It is for your brother and me to discuss.” Then he pressed a kiss to her cheek and left her alone with her churning thoughts.
Evie pressed her hands to her stomach and walked over to the windows, staring out at the palatial estate. It was her duty to obey her parents. Her father was on the brink of ruin and disgrace, and they were all depending on her to make a good match. She had to marry, and in good conscience, she could no longer delay. Her family needed her, and she had always understood that marriage alliances within society were not formed because of emotional sentiments. Marriages were made for political alliances, mergers of powerful and noble bloodlines, and for financial gain. From the tender age of fifteen, she had been groomed by her parents and society itself with one single goal—to marry for the benefit of her family. Though she understood her duty, her rebellious heart had always wanted to have some affection for the man she would spend the rest of her life with.