“What do you mean?”
“It was in the newspaper. I read it with my own eyes,” Fiona said.
I sat up, a ball of lead in my stomach. “In the newspaper?”
“In the society section. It was an official announcement of your engagement. I assumed you knew, although I was troubled you hadn’t mentioned an engagement to me. You said things were complicated, but I thought you meant with your work.”
“It was only just decided,” I said, mumbling.
She dug a folded piece of newspaper from her pocket and handed it to me. “I brought it for you, in case you wanted a copy.”
I unfolded the paper to read the announcement for myself.
Mr. Maxwell Masters is pleased to announce the engagement of his daughter, Lena Masters, to Mr. James West.
“I didn’t know he was doing that,” I said, setting it aside. “But we are getting married. As soon as I return home. I got a short reprieve for this visit.”
“James, is this what you want? Was this announcement meant to trap you?”
I looked into her eyes briefly before looking out to the yard. Fiona should know the truth. We’d shared so much over the years. She was my best friend. I wanted her to know everything. “Yes, this seals my fate. They know I’d never embarrass Lena by backing out now.”
“Do you love her?” Fiona’s deep blue eyes studied me with such affection that I nearly choked up.
“She’s entertaining. And lovely to look at. I’m hoping to someday.”
“James? Someday is not the same as desperately.”
“It doesn’t really matter if it is or isn’t,” I said. “You know as well as anyone how I’ve needed to marry a wealthy woman. There are worse choices than Lena. You’d like her, in fact. She’s lively and intelligent. Her father owns the publishing house where I work. Without this marriage, my career is over. It’s all been decided. I must simply do what’s expected of me. You mustn’t feel sorry for me, Fi. I’ll be relieved and happy to have no more financial burdens.”
She turned away to look up at the ceiling. “If only I could believe you. But I know you, James. You’re not the type to marry for convenience. What happened to your idea of love?”
“I could be like the French and have a mistress,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood.
“You could, I suppose. But you won’t. That’s not the kind of man you are.”
“You’re probably right. It’s terrible to always want to do the right thing.”
“The right thing? Is that what this is?” She gazed at me again, her eyes inquisitive. My dearest friend knew me well.
“It is the thing that makes the most sense. More so than my desire to be an editor or move to America. None of it has added up to anything. This is my chance to make a lot of people happy, including my mother and my sister. Mostly, my father will have to—”
“Have to what?”
“Love me.”
“You’ve wanted that more than anything else, perhaps?”
“Perhaps.”
She sighed but didn’t say anything further. What else was there to say, really?
“It won’t be a bad life, Fi,” I said after a moment. “I’ll be rich and free to have my head in a book for the rest of my life. We’ll have a family. I’ll live an easy life.”
She reached over to take my hand. “Don’t forget that we’re your family, too. You’re one of us and always will be. Please, tell me if you need anything. Do you promise me you will?”
“I promise.” I kissed her hand and set it back in her lap. “Close your eyes and take a little nap.” I patted the book by my side. “I’ll just read for a minute and give you a little peace.”
She gave me one of her gentle smiles before closing her eyes. “A nap does sound perfectly perfect.”