Margaret forced her smile to remain in place, even though her cheeks were now hurting.
“I do wonder why the Duke didn’t send any more for the preparations himself,” Penelope murmured thoughtfully, writing down a list of the flowers they had in their garden.
“Money?” Margaret repeated.
“Well, you would have thought he would. Sent a little bit to ensure any preparations you wanted to make could be paid for. Our poor fortunes are in all the scandal sheets. He can hardly be under the misapprehension that we can afford it, can he?”
“He’s not.” The male voice in the room made them all jump.
Margaret whipped around in her chair. Standing in the open doorway of the sitting room, was their father.
James’ cravat was loose as he leaned heavily on the doorframe. He looked scarcely capable of standing upright as he stumbled forward, adjusting his tailcoat as if he somehow thought it could make him more presentable. An awful scent wafted off him.
Alexandra leaned back in her seat to be far away from it, just as Penelope wrinkled her nose.
“What is that smell?” Penelope hissed under her breath.
“Whisky,” Louisa and Margaret uttered together.
“And the trace of the gambling hall,” Margaret added.
Fortunately, they spoke quietly. Though even if they had raised their voices louder, she was not sure their father would have paid any attention. He was more concerned with walking in a straight line toward them.
“You mentioned money,” he said, moving to sit in a seat. Apparently, he hadn’t noticed that Alexandra was already in that chair. Margaret had to snatch her out of it, to avoid their father sitting straight in her lap. “The night yourbeauproposed,” he said with clear scorn, addressing Margaret alone, “he came to see me at the gambling hall. He asked for my blessing.”
Margaret stayed silent. She had presumed something of the kind must have happened, as over breakfast the following morning, her father had spoken of giving his blessing, though not under any specific circumstances.
“Can you believe it?” James looked around them all, fixing them with a curious gaze. “He actually came to find me in a gambling hall. Knew where to find me, too. Did you tell him?” He addressed this last question to Margaret.
“No,” she said coolly. “I do not even know the address where you like to lose all our money.” Alexandra squeezed her arm in an attempt to quieten her.
James was too busy trying to stifle a burp to notice her audaciousness.
“He offered up money. Can you believe it? Presented it, as if he were buying you.” James’ words made Margaret flinch. “I refused him. Said I didn’t need the money.”
“Wedoneed the money.” Margaret’s words were met by hasty nods from all her sisters.
“He insisted anyway. Placed it in my palm. Told me to buy you a half decent dress and arrange a good carriage with the cash, but I am no fool.” James tapped the side of his nose, conspiratorially. “I knew I could double the money. With those notes, I could buy you the finest wedding!”
Penelope looked hopeful, leaning forward in her chair, but Margaret could harbor no such excitement. She already sensed from the fact she had seen no money yet, that it was gone.
“Did you lose it all that evening?” Margaret asked, well aware of how Penelope’s expression fell.
“The cards didn’t fall my way. It does not matter. They’ll fall my way next time.”
Margaret snorted, as her father stood.
“I need no duke’s help to get my family through this world. I’ll pay our way.” He stumbled out of the chair and headed toward the door again.
When he veered off to the side, Penelope stood and went to stop him falling over, but she was so small and slight in build at the age of just fourteen, that he nearly knocked her over. Somehow, they both managed to stay standing, and James left the room, singing a drunkard’s song at the top of his breath.
As they heard his voice disappear up the steps, Penelope returned to her seat as did Alexandra. They all sat there, staring at the empty doorway through which their father had left.
“He offered up money,” Louisa was the first to break the silence. “Margaret, the Duke of Thornfield offered to give you money for a dress.”
“Then he will be sorely disappointed when he finds a bride in a secondhand dress with sewn on patches of lace.” She turned her attention down to the swatches in front of her.
This news to her, though aggravating, was hardly surprising. Their father had gambled away everything else in life. What would be the difference now when a man literally handed him notes in a gambling hall?
