He creaked when he walked. He was old, much older than their mother, and quite fat. His wig was long and elaborately styled, his complexion florid, his lips the color of liver. He had fingers like fat sausages, covered with rings, and a beauty patch rested on one sagging cheek.
She knew better than to call attention to herself in public, but in this case she had no choice, with Sir Christopher barking questions at her, all the time he was sneaking glances at Lydia as she tried to disappear into the furniture.
It seemed to go on forever. He sprinkled biscuit crumbs all over his expansive front, and he drank his tea noisily, like a bourgeois. The thought of her mama in his bed was horrifying. She was not so naive that she didn’t realize exactly what her mother did with her gentlemen friends, even though the details were mercifully unclear at that point.
Finally he rose. “She’ll do,” he said with a brisk nod. “I’ll meet your price. ” His rheumy gaze swept the room. “I’d still rather have the younger one. I’d pay double. ”
“No, Sir Christopher,” her mother said with what Elinor considered to be great dignity. “You’ve had my response to your offer. ”
He’d nodded, and his wig had shifted slightly. No decent valet would have allowed his gentleman to go out with his periwig improperly applied, and Sir Christopher struck her as a vain man. She hid her grin.
“I expect you to hold to the terms of our agreement,” he’d said, clearly unwilling to
have the last word.
“But of course, Sir Christopher. I am a woman of my word. Have your man of business call on me at his convenience. ”
He took a last, hard look at Elinor, harrumphed and departed in a wave of overpowering scent.
“Go into the other room, Lydia darling,” her mother had said once their guest was gone. “I need to talk to your sister. You, too, old woman,” she added to Nanny Maude.
A rare occurrence, but Elinor was no fool. She understood what was going on but hadn’t been said. Her mother had arranged a marriage for her.
She’d known it would have to happen, sooner or later. She’d already known that the chance of finding someone young and handsome was unlikely. Lydia’s young music tutor had never looked her way, while Elinor died of longing every time he was in the room. He was poor enough that it might have been a possibility, but he’d only had eyes for Lydia.
She should be grateful. She had never thought she’d end up with a title, and it was clear Sir Christopher possessed great wealth. With luck he’d be unfaithful, and she wouldn’t have to put up with his affections very often.
Once they were alone, her mother turned to look at her, and for the first time she looked uncertain, almost guilty, and Elinor took pity on her.
“Don’t worry, Mama,” she said. “I understand what’s going on. ”
“You do?”
“Of course. You’ve arranged a marriage for me with Sir Christopher. I understand that it’s my duty. I probably won’t have many choices, and I should be very grateful. ”
“Not exactly,” her mother had said, moving away and refusing to meet her eye.
Elinor tried not to show the rush of relief that ran through her body. In truth, she would much rather die an old maid than be married to someone like Sir Christopher, but she would have done it, for Lydia. “Then what was he talking about?”
Author: Anne Stuart
Her mother paused in front of the window, fully aware of the lovely picture she made. “Sit down, Elinor. ”
Elinor sat, dutifully.
“We’re in a bit of a pickle, dearest,” she said, finally turning around to take the chair opposite her. She still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “And we’re going to need your help. You’d do anything for your little sister, wouldn’t you?”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “Without question. ”
Her mother’s smile was small and contained. “I was hoping you’d say that. You’re a very loyal girl, Elinor. I knew I could count on you. ”
Elinor drew a deep breath. She’d already learned her mother was far from the most trustworthy presence in their lives—Nanny Maude had that honor. And the way her conversation was circling around was making her feel extremely odd.
“Of course, Mama,” she said. “What is it you want me to do?”
Her mother hesitated. “Sir Christopher has a peculiar…interest, shall we say. You understand about men and their appetites, don’t you?”
Elinor had nodded, understanding no such thing.