“I sat there as hostess while Father and Lord Fenworth worked out the arrangement. They must not have thought that I could hear, or rather not cared, but I heard it all. You have no dowry! You bring nothing with you! In fact, His Grace is paying Father a hefty bride price in exchange for your marriage! He’s even offered you an allowance for your trousseau… can you imagine? Your betrothed sending over a chest so you can even afford a dress to wear to your own wedding?”
Marjorie turned pale. She held Harriet close as she cried, but inside, her heart ran cold. No dowry. Nothing to claim as her own in the event that something happened to her husband—and with the difference in their ages, that was quite a likely possibility. But worse, what had happened to their fortune? Neither she nor Harriet spent lavishly on silly things, and Father certainly hadn’t improved upon their land or houses. Where had it all gone?
Then there was no other way. She must need marry the Duke, otherwise her sister would be in the same position when the time comes. She would speak to her Father, though, that much was certain. She would demand that a portion of Lord Fenworth’s “payment” be held for Harriet’s interests. Nay, she would demand that her father give a considerable sum back to her husband—how bitter that word already tasted—to hold for Harriet’s own betrothal, lest her father squander that, too.
Her heart sank. She would do no such thing, and she knew it. She could never look her father in the face and make such accusations or demands. They would simply have to live in the hope that he would do the right thing.
“Are you absolutely sure of what you heard?” Marjorie asked, only to be polite. “How could he have some struggles with money when we still have Mother’s horses and the new foals?”
“I’m sure of it,” Harriet said, sitting up and wiping her eyes. “Father sought me out after the Duke left and bade me never speak of it to anyone. Surely, he did not mean you, though. Marjorie, dear sister, what will we do?”
“It will be fine, you’ll see. Do not let it worry you any further. As I said, I will marry the Duke, and all will be well. Come, meet me downstairs and play the piano for me. That will do us both good in lifting our spirits.”
She waited until Harriet had left the room to finish formulating a plan. She might well have to succumb to a marriage she had no hope for, but she didn’t have to give up her freedom… at least not yet. Marjorie worked out a new plan in her mind, one that would grant her a fleeting time of happiness before she fell prisoner.
Marjorie may not be able to do anything about her upcoming marriage, but she could certainly pluck every moment of happiness from her life while she still had the chance… starting with her horse, Valiant.
It will take some foresight and caution, she thought, smiling wickedly to herself as she looked around her room. Perhaps her lady’s maid, Diana, could help. Surely the sweet girl knew someone who could procure the right kind of riding clothes.
Within the hour, Diana had listened to Marjorie’s plan unfold, a mixture of horror and conspiratorial delight on her face.
“Of course, I will help, My Lady! I know just the lad who is about your same height and build. I’ll return presently!”
True to her word, Diana had brought back a pair of tight-fitting jodhpurs, a shirt, a vest, and pair of black leather boots that a young man might wear.
“And you’ll need this,” she’d explained, pulling a wool cap out of a sack. “We dare not cut your hair, but I can style it so that it will all be hidden within. A few tendrils might escape, but some boys have beautiful curls, too. No one should think anything of it.”
“I dare say that being flushed from my ride should also help keep it tucked away,” Marjorie had said, agreeing that the cap would do nicely. “But what are these?”
She held up several lengthy strips of cheap muslin, and Diana blushed a deep crimson.
“They’re for… well, you’ll have to bind up… My Lady’s ample…” Her voice faltered, and she merely gestured to Marjorie’s bosom. Marjorie laughed.
“Ah Diana, you’ve thought of everything! How foolish of me, I never would have considered it, and I’m afraid I would have given myself away!”
“But, My Lady, can you even ride astride a horse? Have you not always ridden in the lady’s way?” Diana asked, genuinely fearful for her mistress’s well-being.
“Oh, yes. Mother insisted on it whenever we rode apart from anyone else. She always said that riding side-saddle was courting danger, even when riding at a leisurely clip. It would take only a small creature startling the horse for it to bolt, throwing the lady from her saddle. I’ve even seen girls my own age take a fall when the horses merely stepped painfully on a rock. Of course, Mother and I were known to race across the glens like outlaws, so we always rode thus.”
Marjorie’s face clouded for a moment as she remembered the last time she’d ridden so hard with her mother. It had been the last time they’d ridden, the last her mother spoke or opened her eyes. She shook off the sad memory and smiled gratefully at Diana.
“Will you help me dress?”
“Of course, My Lady. I’ve done it for years, there’s no sense in stopping now!” she said with a light laugh. “But it might take some work on both our parts to achieve the desired effect. I shouldn’t have to say it, but I’ve never dressed a man before!”
“Perhaps we should ask Father’s valet to help!” Marjorie teased, but Diana didn’t return her smile.
“Oh, dear. You must not have heard.” Diana looked away and lowered her voice, even though the two of them were alone. “Your Father has dismissed Mr. Logan.”
“What?” Marjorie cried out loud before clamping a hand over her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and Harriet’s earlier words haunted her. “How could he? Mr. Logan has served him for years! He even went to the Continent with Father during his years of service!”
“I know not all of the particulars, but I do know this. Mr. Logan was accused of theft,” Diana whispered, the shame of it coloring her own features.
“It’s not possible,” Marjorie countered, shaking her head. “Mr. Logan would never. And though Father may be acting strangely—even cruelly—as of late, that would be too low even for him. He absolutely mustn’t believe such a thing!”
“My Lady, it pains me to say so, but some of the household think it might have been a way… a way to simply end his employment.”
“Why would Father want to do that?” Marjorie asked, but Diana didn’t answer. She looked down at the muslin in her lap, picking at a loose thread and avoiding her mistress’s gaze.
