He had been willing to wait until she found her own love match. She had three Seasons in London and had been courted by a few gentlemen but had yet to find that match. Still, she yearned for it. The idea of romantic love sustained her. She believed her life partner, who she loved with all her heart, was out there. She just hadn’t met him yet.
“Circumstances have changed, Delia,” he said eventually, in a strangled voice. “I am ashamed to tell you this, but it seems I must. It is the only way for you to understand the gravity of the situation and why you must marry Lord Stanton.”
Delia’s heart lurched. She stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You may have noticed that Twickenham Hall is falling to rack and ruin,” he said, frowning. “There are many urgent issues which need attending to. But I have been unable to do it as the coffers have run almost dry.”
Delia gaped at him, her blood running cold again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I am almost bankrupt!” he spat, his eyes wild now. “I have had some bad luck with the dice recently. I owe money all over the district and in London as well. My debts have drained our funds, and I still owe more. I am desperate, Delia.”
Delia’s jaw dropped. She knew her father was fond of the dice. He enjoyed cards as well. He was always going off to play them somewhere. But she had never suspected for a minute that it was a problem for him.
She had heard of gentlemen who grew overfond of gambling and lost everything when in its grip. But that wasotherpeople, not her happy, kind, generous father. He had always been sensible and prudent with money. Or so she had thought.
“Lord Stanton has offered me a large loan in return for your hand in marriage,” he continued, tears glimmering in his eyes. “Enough for me to pay off all my creditors. He is also waiving your dowry. It will save me. And it will save Twickenham Hall, for I will be forced to sell it otherwise.”
Delia collapsed into the chair. Her mind was whirling. This was truly a desperate situation.
“How could you have been so imprudent, Papa?” she said in an anguished whisper. “How could you have gambled with the house and my future like this?”
The Viscount’s face crumpled. “I have asked myself the same question many times,” he said. “The only answer I have is that my grief over your mother’s death led me down this dark road. I was so lonely, Delia. I missed her so much. The gambling was a distraction at first…before it became a problem. By that stage, I was in so deep I could not see a way out.”
Delia stared into the small, flickering fire. It was in danger of going out. A small chill ran down her spine. Now she understood why there weren’t any roaring fires in the house anymore. Her father couldn’t afford the fuel.
Other things occurred to her now. Her supply of new gowns and other accessories had dwindled over the past few months. Usually, her father spoilt her with so many new gowns, bonnets, and hats that her wardrobe was overflowing. But she hadn’t been to the modiste for new gowns for over two months now. Often she had to rotate the same three ball gowns, which was slightly embarrassing.
“The marriage with Lord Stanton will save me and this house,” he continued, his eyes glimmering with tears. “I am sorry, Delia. More than I can say. But there is no other choice. The banks will not loan me anything now, and the deal with Lord Stanton was brokered only because we are old friends, and he is trying to do me a great favour.”
Delia gazed at him steadily. “Why can he not just loan you the money? Why is it conditional upon me marrying him?”
“Because he wants a young wife,” he said, looking shamefaced. “It is many years since his wife died. He only has daughters and no son and heir. He thinks this may be his last chance to secure the heir he wants.”
Delia felt ill. “So he wants me as a broodmare, does he?”
“You are putting it too crudely, Delia,” he replied, a vein twitching in his forehead. “He greatly admires you. You are known for your beauty and accomplishments. Many young ladies make such matches with older gentlemen. It is not so unusual.”
Delia stood up. She was so angry and hurt that she was shaking. “Perhaps it is not that unusual, Papa. But that does not mean that I desire such a life. I do not love Lord Stanton, and I never will. To me, he is an old man. His daughter Eleanor is the same age as me. Do you not see how humiliating it would be for me to become stepmother to her and her younger sister? They would laugh at me! They would never respect me!”
The Marquess’s face hardened. “Eleanor and Amelia will get used to you. They must. It is not insurmountable. Besides, they will make their own marriages soon enough and leave their home. You would not have to reside with them for very long.”
Delia blinked back tears of frustration. “Why must I pay for your mistakes? Why must I suffer for the rest of my life becauseyouhave been reckless?”
“Cordelia,” he said, his voice full of flint. “That is enough. You are not being respectful towards me. I am still your father, and you must obey me.”
“I will never marry Lord Stanton!” she declared, stamping her foot. “Never!”
“Youwillmarry him. You just need to get used to the idea,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Go to your room!”
“With pleasure!” she cried, getting up and fleeing the room. She banged the door loudly. Then she ran down the hallway, tears blurring her vision. They were pouring down her face by the time she reached her chambers. Minnie was still there, hanging freshly laundered and pressed gowns in the wardrobe. She looked stunned to see her mistress in such a state.
“My lady,” she cried, rushing to her. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Oh, Minnie,” said Delia, hugging the maid and putting her head on her shoulder.
Minnie didn’t say anything. She simply hugged her back, making soothing sounds until Delia calmed down. Then the maid pulled back, staring into her face.
“What has happened?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I have never seen you so upset. Apart from when your lady mother passed away.”