“The house is a long way from rotting—”
“And what about the tenant farmers? How are they to go on with no repairs to their homes or investment in their fields?”
“Their land will be sold,” Mrs. Murray said quietly. “They can either stay and work for the new landlord or take a settlement and leave.”
“That’s why you didn’t want me to take an interest in the tenants, isn’t it? They won’t be our tenants for long.”
Mrs. Murray looked away. And then, slowly, she looked back. “How do you come by this knowledge? Has Fitch been spouting off?”
“Fitch hasn’t said a word,” Katie said. “I happened to meet with Mr. Gillett, and when I fired him—yes, I told him his services were no longer required—he told me the truth.”
“Mr. Gillett was here?” Mrs. Murray said. “And you spoke to him?”
“I spoke to him, yes,” Katie said, careful of her words. “I take it you deny nothing of what I’ve said.”
“Why should I? Your father is perfectly within his rights to do what he wants with you. I shouldn’t be surprised if we are here for another year or longer.”
Katie had no intention of staying at Carlisle Hall a year. She didn’t know where she was going yet, but she was almost two and twenty. She was no longer under her father’s control.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Murray. I’m feeling quite tired myself. I don’t think I’ll feel well enough to come down to dinner.” Katie rose and retreated to her room, where she paced and thought about what she could do and where she could go. She had no money to pay for travel or to make a life for herself. She might flee to a relative who could pay her expenses when she arrived, but her father was the marquess. No one in their family would go against him. She’d be returned to him directly and sent right back here, or worse.
Not for the first time, Katie wished she had been born a boy. Her brothers’ lives were so much different than hers, and not just because they weren’t spoiled by a birthmark. They could come and go as they liked. They had allowances and pocket money. She’d never been given any freedom.
Not that any of that was unusual. Women were under the thumb of their fathers until they were married. Then they were under their husband’s control. Katie was never expected to marry. She’d never escape her father.
Katie ceased pacing.
Unless…
No. Absolutely not.
She began pacing again, working it out in her mind. She analyzed all of the options and possibilities, but there was only one real choice.
When her maid came to ready her for bed, Katie pretended to be tired and slid under the covers quickly. When Mrs. Murray came to bid her goodnight, Katie yawned and answered groggily. Then when the house quieted, she rose and dressed, and waited until the tall case clock chimed quarter to one. Then she tiptoed to the library, locked the door, and opened the heavy draperies.Carlisle was right on time, appearing at the window two minutes past one. She opened it for him and, as always, admired the way he easily climbed inside.
She had a thousand questions for him about the strange note he’d received and his behavior afterward. She was curious as to whether he still wanted to search the library for clues about the past between his family and hers.
But only one question really mattered at this point. And so when Carlisle had closed the window and turned back to face her, she said, “Carlisle, will you marry me?”
Chapter Twelve
Henry took astep back and shook his head. “Sorry, I must have banged my head on something. What did you say?”
Katie, dressed in a simple pink gown with her hair trailing down her back in a long tail, looked up from the floor. He glanced at the floor as well to see what she’d been looking at and noticed her feet were bare. They were small, and their nakedness made her seem vulnerable. That vulnerability was enhanced by the way she twisted her fingers together and refused to meet his eyes.
Finally, she took a deep breath and said, this time more loudly, “I asked if you would marry me.”
Henry’s heart jumped. “That’s what I thought you said.” He grasped the table behind him to keep from turning and racing right back out the window. Marriage? The very word struck fear in his soul.
“I know I’m not what you probably imagined for a wife.”
“I’ve never imagined a wife at all, despite my mother’s best efforts.”
“I’m sure you could have your pick of ladies from theton, and none of them disfigured, but I had to ask. I’m out of options.”
Henry released the table, his urge to flee tempered. For the moment. “I have approximately seven hundred and three questions, but allow me to begin with a statement. You are not disfigured.”
She smiled. “Seven hundred and three? That seems very specific.”
