When Mayson’s breathing evened out, Evelyn collected up the soiled handkerchiefs. She checked the last one. The sputum was no longer flecked with black, but it was green as the moss on a stagnant swamp and smelled nearly as bad.
Am I, indeed, sitting at another deathbed?
Chapter 38
Darrius sat with Blanche in the large drawing room. A tea table was drawn up between them.
“So you are feeling better?” Darrius asked.
“Better, yes. Not as well as I would like. I might never be able to wear my stays tight or contemplate any powder or paint beyond a little flour or berry juice.”
“That does not seem like such a dreadful fate,” Darrius commented.
“Oh, Darrius, do you not understand? Only little girls who are playing at being grown up would use such things. No, I am better off to go about with my face bare, like some Protestant woman.”
Darrius studied her for a moment. “You find that repugnant?”
“Have you read their tracts, Darrius? I do, indeed, find it repugnant. I attend church like any other God-fearing citizen, but I do not spend my day agonizing over whether the things I have done are sin. I take it on good faith that as long as I am obeying my father and the laws of my King, that I am right with the world.”
“I am not sure I have thought it through even so much as that.” Darrius considered it for a moment. “No, I am sure I have not. One must obey the laws of the land, of course. My father expected obedience while he was alive, but now that he is not, how could I obey his wishes?”
“Our marriage, for one,” Blanche replied. “He must have wished it, else why arrange it? Are we defying our fathers if we do not wed?”
“Mine is out of reach, but we could certainly ask your father. Perhaps he would have some insight into their reasoning. He might even be relieved to learn of not having to hold onto the dowry for you.”
Blanche shook her head. “No, that was set up by my maternal grandfather. None of us can touch it unless I am married. At that time, it will pay me an allowance for the length of my life, and then go to my daughter should I have any.”
“What a very odd arrangement,” Darrius commented. Meanwhile, his thoughts were racing. Even if they were wed, he would not have access to Blanche’s dowry. Oh, his creditors would just love that development!
Still, as long as the wedding was in the planning, he could hold out the hope that his wife’s fortune might be substantial.
Hope was what had allowed him to send two cooks for his mother’s household, while making do with a single additional cook at the Main House. He hoped that he would be able to persuade her to pay them out of her allowance at the end of the quarter. Otherwise, he would scarcely clear the housekeeping budget, let alone be able to consider repairs or a new carriage. He mentally said goodbye to thoughts of a new, super-fine dinner jacket or even so much as a new set of shirts.
He realized that Blanche was still talking.
“ —I will never be as robust as I might have been. Do we not live in a strange world, where to make ourselves beautiful, we also make ourselves ill?”
Darrius suddenly had a vision of himself setting up something similar for a little girl who looked a lot like Blanche. “It is a strange world,” he said, trying to shake the vision. “But men are expected to make provision for their families. A gentleman does not work, but from him, jobs are created, money flows, and the society as a whole is rewarded, which then flows back to him for his keeping.”
“Is it so, Darrius?” Blanche stared at him. For a moment, it was as if he had never seen her before. There was an odd expression upon her face, as if she could not quite believe what she was hearing. She shook herself, and then said, “Never mind. I am sure that you are right, that it does work that way. To be certain, a manor house provides work for many hands.”
“For which they are paid,” Darrius point out, “thus spreading wealth far and wide.”
My wealth,he thought.The wealth I do not have. Whatever shall I do? Well, I will do what I can, for a gentleman must pay his debts and appearances must be kept up.
“Of course,” Blanche smiled at him. “So what are your thoughts, Your Grace? Shall I announce that I have grown tired of waiting for you? Or that my health has put me more in mind of a nunnery than a wedding?”
“Are you tired of me?” Darrius asked. “Would you prefer a nunnery to a wedding?”
“In truth, I am not overly fond of the idea of either,” Blanche replied. “But we have waited this long to set a date, I do not think a day or two more will matter. My greatest desire is to regain my health.”
“A worthy goal,” Darrius conceded. “What does your father say to that?”
“He says that he is highly in favor of it, even if it means selling off the heirlooms. He incurred a great many debts taking me from one physician to another.”
“And now you discover that by leaving off the face paint, ceasing the medicinal draughts, and simply eating ordinary food will make you well?”
“Dr. Alton says that remains to be seen. He is certain that such a course will, at the very least, not make me any worse. Since each day I felt more disconnected from the real world, more light-headed and yet heavy of heart, I will certainly accept the thought of not feeling worse.”
