“Go! By all means, see to it. I’ll ring for Mrs. Babbage to draw a bath and will send word with your valet when it is ready.”
“Til then, Mother,” Evan said, placing a brief peck on her upturned cheek and bowing slightly, then heading upstairs to his apartments.
Chapter 10
“Good morning, Father,” Marjorie began as Charles walked in the house and continued past the open door of the parlor. She looked up from her toast and noted the mud clinging to the sides of his boots with a slight frown. “Already out to the stables, I see. I trust all is well with the horses?”
“What?” he demanded, appearing somewhat taken aback that she’d known he’d been riding. He recovered and excused his tone. “Oh, yes. That is, I had an errand and came back by way of the stables.”
“An errand? At this hour?” Harriet asked, concern already clear on her face. “Is everything all right, Father?”
“What? Yes, yes. Nothing for you to think about,” he stammered before changing the subject. “Has Cook already made breakfast? What time is it?”
“It’s nearly ten o’clock,” Marjorie answered coldly, “and yes,Mrs. Stapletonhas prepared our breakfast. I wasn’t aware you were out and told her we would all be dining.” She gestured to his seat with its still-empty plate.
“Shall I have her serve your plate?” Harriet asked, starting to rise from her chair. Her father scowled slightly but waved her back into her seat.
“No, no. I’ve got it. I suppose I should do it myself since I wasn’t present and accounted for at the proper time!” he muttered, carrying his plate to the sideboard and lifting the covers from the dishes.
Even he noted that the fare was a little on the meager side for his liking. There had been a time, back when his wife was alive and overseeing these matters, that their first meal of the day was a veritable feast. Fresh fruits, breads, pastries, roasted meats, and warm coffee all served out of silver dishes and decanters had been replaced with coarse bread, a smearing of jam, and eggs from their chickens that ran around the barnyard. Even the coffee, while undoubtedly from the same source, had less appeal than it once did.
Still, appearances were to be maintained: parties hosted and attended to, ball invitations accepted, household staff employed as well as they could afford. Even the occasional frock, gown, or waist coat had to be ordered to prevent the tailor or seamstress from wagging their tongues. The creditors may have known the truth of the estate’s finances, but they were in the business of helping people keep up the appearance of wealth and propriety. After all, it’s why people even came to them with their hats in their hands, needing a loan.
“If you’re going riding today,” Charles began, practically hunched over his plate, “see to it that you make the rounds of several of the good families. We’ll be announcing your betrothal soon, we need them to remember your name and face when they learn of it.”
“Yes Father,” Marjorie said quietly.
She had every intention of going riding, but perhaps not as Father envisioned it. She pushed down a small snort of laughter at the image of herself dressed as Jonathan, hurrying off to the downs for the races that evening.
Charles looked up sharply at her hint of a laugh and watched her face closely for sign of impertinence. She only smiled at him, helping him decide that it was, in fact, a good thing. Marjorie had done nothing to embrace the inevitable union, of course, but neither had she argued or succumbed to a tantrum.
“Will I go with her, Father?” Harriet asked quietly, looking between the two of them.
“Don’t be foolish,” he said gruffly, waving his hand dismissively and bringing another forkful of eggs to his mouth. “She cannot go without you, how would that look? You’ll have to go as well, and both of you had best look presentable.”
Harriet smiled with relief, not so much from the opportunity to visit others from the ton, but more just from knowing what her role was. All of this was so new to her that she still questioned her place in it. She feared she would never have the countenance nor confidence that Marjorie had in these matters, and she’d said as much to her sister from time to time.
“I’ve got matters to attend to,” Charles said after he finished, standing up and striding to the door. He was gone only moments after he’d come in, leaving Marjorie and Harriet to look at each other questioningly.
“That was… odd,” Harriet said quietly. “Does something seem wrong with Father?”
“I think the more apt question would be, when has anything last been right about him?” Marjorie replied, her words not unkind. She still felt a tenderness towards the man who was once so loving and generous with his daughters, a man who seemed to care not about fortunes and titles and inheritance. “I know you may not remember it so well, but he’s a changed man since Mother left us.”
“I remember her only a little,” she admitted, her eyes beginning to glisten, “and it feels as though I lose more and more of her every day. If I think too hard on her, if I concentrate too forcefully on her face or her laugh, I can almost watch her disappear from my mind.” Harriet sniffled softly then said, “And I feel as if I must be a wretched, ungrateful brat to not remember my own mother so well.”
Marjorie reached a comforting hand out and placed it on Harriet’s. “Don’t. Do not do this to yourself. You know that she was wonderful and beautiful, but more importantly, that there has not been a woman to walk this Earth who loved her children and her husband more than she did. ‘Twas a cruel accident that took someone so dear from us, but she loved us and knew how you adored her in return.”
Harriet tried to smile gratefully, but she didn’t have it in her. “All I feel now is misery. Father’s practically a stranger to us, you’ll be leaving me shortly, and I don’t know my place in the world. What is my role? Am I to stay here and tend to Father forever? Marry some lesser cousin and live here as servant woman to both of them? Or will he sell me off to someone who can pay his debts as he’s done to you?”
Marjorie rose from her chair and came to stand beside Harriet, who was now openly crying into her handkerchief. She stooped down and wrapped the poor girl in her arms, holding her tightly.
“It will not be like that. You’ll see! You’re working yourself up, and for what? When you know not what is in store for you, there is no sense in letting it burden your heart!” Marjorie smiled at Harriet, but the girl didn’t return her happy expression.
Just wait, she thought.I’m intent on seeking my own fortune, and I’ll see to it that you have all that you require as well!
“Come, it’s time for your lessons. I’ve sent word to Master Knighton that you would not be continuing—” she held up a hand for silence when Harriet looked up and opened her mouth to protest, “but I did not mention that it was an expense we no longer need. I’ll see to your lessons myself from now on, at least so far as you need them. You’ve always quite amazed me with the way your mind has taken to sums, and you already sing and play beautifully. We only need work on your languages, reading, and dancing. With the proper head on your shoulders filled with knowledge, you’ll do quite well in life. But more important is the thinker who knows how to discover new knowledge. Remember, Harriet, no one needs to know everything, so long as they know how to learn everything!”
* * *
