“No, of course, not, but you know there are some ladies out there who think in such ways.”
“You are not one of them. You can be whatever kind of lady you wish to be, dear sister,” Margaret assured her. “Now, Theo has offered kindly to host your debut party, but have Evelina and Gabriel already offered?”
“They have.” Louisa huffed and folded her arms, looking much younger than she was. “I despair! Honestly! Evelina is already saying I shall need a new dress. You and I both know Father cannot afford a new gown.”
“Leave that to me,” Margaret whispered. She was sure that she could ask Theo for a little money toward one new dress for Louisa.
“I cannot ask you to do that.” Louisa had reached for her teacup on the tray between them and nearly dropped it in alarm.
“Nonsense. I wish to help you, so it shall be done. The real question is, what more can we do?” she asked, looking between all three sisters.
“What do you mean?” Alexandra asked with interest.
“I mean, that spending every day in this house is hardly bringing any happiness, is it? Theo has said I can have use of the carriage whenever I want, so here is what I suggest.” She stood and moved to the side of the music room, retrieving paper, ink and a quill pen from a drawer. “Let us write down all things you’d like to do. Perhaps a bookshop,” she suggested to Louisa, who promptly nodded in delight.
“Or maybe a museum or an art gallery,” she added in Penelope’s direction, who beamed at the idea. “Let us write down everything you want to do, and we shall work our way through the list.”
Maybe then they’ll spend less time in this house, forced to watch our father as he returns from his drunken haunts of the gambling halls.
“I love this idea!” Louisa took up the quill pen with great eagerness and began writing down everyone’s ideas.
Various escapades were suggested, with Alexandra speaking repeatedly, worrying about how much these trips would cost, even though Margaret urged her not to worry about costs more than once.
“What do you think?” Margaret asked once they were done.
“I think it a wonderful thing.” Penelope nodded, looking over Louisa’s shoulder at the list. “Yet one thing is missing.” She took the quill off Louisa and added at the bottom,Louisa’s debut.
“I might just cross that one out.” Louisa tried to take the quill back, prompting a mad tussle over the feather with Penelope.
The door abruptly opened, and they all sat stock still.
In the doorway was their father. His eyes zeroed in on Margaret, just as Alexandra subtly took the list and folded it up, hiding it out of sight underneath her in the chair.
“You.” He raised a finger and pointed it at her, only the rest of his hand was gripping to the neck of a carafe, making the image rather ridiculous.
“Good morning, Father. I believe it is not yet eleven o’clock.” She gestured to the nearest clock on the mantelpiece. “Is that wine already in your grasp?”
“Enough of your insolence.” He strode toward her hurriedly, bearing down over her.
She was reminded of her dream from the night before. It was the same strength in the walk, the same purpose, the same sense of domination, even if she could see his face now.
“You.You.”He thrust the carafe toward her. Penelope jumped up and somehow managed to pull it from his grasp, expertly slipping it away and placing it down on top of the piano nearby. “You have been marred to the Duke of Thornfield for nearly a month now and yet not a shilling of his wealth has come our way.”
“It is still my husband’s money, Father. Not mine to do with as I wish.”
Alexandra pointedly shifted her weight over the paper, being careful to hide any hint of it from view.
“Let us not have a confrontation, Father,” Margaret pleaded fast, moving to stand when she saw Penelope’s tearful gaze nearby. “I will help when I can, but my husband has not given me unlimited access to his funds.”
“Your sisters need it. Do you have any idea what it is like to face marrying off three daughters who don’t have a dowry?”
Whose fault is that?
Margaret kept this thought to herself.
“Hasn’t Evelina sent you any money?”
“No. This is what I get, is it? For being a father to you all. Two ungrateful daughters who marry into wealth and send nothing back in return.” He flounced away across the room, pacing impatiently.
