Caught in a Cornish Scandal Eleanor Webster (new books to read .TXT) 📖

‘So unfortunate. I myself have experienced loss.’

‘Indeed.’

Was it good etiquette to bring up the loss of one’s first wife while proposing to one’s second?

And now she wanted to giggle, though she felt quite certain giggling during a proposal of marriage was not at all appropriate. And she should have worn boots. Her slippers were getting quite soaked and they could ill afford another pair. She really had not anticipated thinking about her wet feet, which were still sore with blisters, during a marriage proposal.

‘Miss...um... Miss Lansdowne, I...um...have heard so many wonderful things about you. You are kind and wonderful with children and have a myriad of other accomplishments. Therefore...’ Mr Edmunds paused, inhaling and then exhaling with several whooshes of breath, as though building the required stamina for an arduous task.

He took her hand. Even through the cloth of her glove his palms felt surprisingly warm and moist given the cool temperature. ‘I have come to value you very greatly and enjoy our time together and am wondering whether you would do me the very, very great honour of becoming my wife.’

Millie swallowed. Her throat felt dry, her tongue cleaving to the roof of her mouth. She heard the thump of her pulse against her ears and felt her armpits prickle with perspiration despite the chill. She should say ‘yes’. It was sensible on so many levels. And while Mr Edmunds lacked personality, intelligence or physique, he was unlikely to break his neck.

Except...

‘No,’ she said.

Mr Edmunds blinked as though taking a second to properly comprehend the word. Indeed, Millie also felt shocked surprise. Then, the disbelief dissipated, engulfed in a flood of pure elation, a feeling of sudden freedom, like when she rowed on the sea or ran across the moors.

She knew that this was the right decision. It was not even about Sam. It was about something more important. It was about her. It was about choice. One could not choose one’s circumstances, but one could choose one’s reaction to them.

‘But your mother said...’

‘You do not want to marry me,’ she said bluntly.

‘I do not?’

‘No,’ Millie said, removing her hand from his clasp. ‘You want our land because it inconveniently splits your own.’

‘Well, yes,’ he concurred. ‘But—’

‘I cannot see that you would want a wife you do not even know. I cannot pretend to care about sheep or potatoes. You cannot pretend to care about me. Surely we can determine an alternate solution which would work better?’

He looked bemused, as though she was speaking a foreign tongue. Sweat beaded on his forehead. ‘What did you have in mind?’ he asked, his tone apprehensive.

‘We sell you the land for a price sufficient to pay off our remaining debt, which is less than the land is worth. You allow my mother and I to remain at the house for the remainder of her lifespan or until she remarries. You would be responsible for the structural maintenance while she would look after its day-to-day operations.’

His jaw dropped slightly. ‘Miss Lansdowne, I do not know what to say. You sound—you sound—’

‘As though I am presenting you with an alternative and objectively better choice.’

‘Just so. Except I am unsure if this agreement is in my best interest. Purchase of your property would require considerable investment, whereas marriage...’

‘One must provide for a wife. Besides, while you are a very nice man, I really do not want to marry you.’

Mr Edmunds frowned, inhaling so deeply that she quite feared for the strain on his buttons. ‘I will need to think about this,’ he said. ‘Is your mother in agreement?’

Millie shrugged. ‘I am uncertain, but it does not matter. It is not her story.’

Lil, Mrs Lansdowne and Flora descended on Millie the second she re-entered the house.

‘Mr Edmunds has gone. I saw the gig roll away,’ her mother said, waving a hand towards the window to emphasise her point.

‘I commend your power of observation.’

‘But I thought he would come in to share the glad tidings.’ Mrs Lansdowne still looked through the window pane as if hoping for the gig’s immediate return.

‘He is going to see the solicitor,’ Millie said.

‘Solicitor? It would be better to speak to the rector and read the banns. Have you decided on a date? Of course, it will have to be quiet, given, well, the situation.’

‘Mother, I am not getting married.’

Lil clapped her hands. ‘I’m so glad.’

Flora produced the smelling salts from her pocket, giving the vial to Mrs Lansdowne.

‘I told you to be sensible,’ her mother said, inhaling deeply.

‘I realised that “sensible” isn’t synonymous with marriage. And...’ she smiled at Lil ‘...I determined another choice.’

‘But what?’

‘I suggested that we sell the land to Mr Edmunds at a good price, sufficient to pay off our creditors. He will let you live at the house. Lil has apparently already arranged her debut with our guest, Mrs Ludlow, and I will be a companion or governess or perhaps live with you here.’

‘But—’ Her mother paused, inhaling the smelling salts. ‘But what of Lord Harwood?’

Millie glanced at her sister. This was still a worry and certainly she had not included the sum mentioned in the promissory note in her calculations.

‘Mrs Ludlow and Mr Garrett will help me determine the best way to ensure that situation is resolved. We will consult a solicitor but I am determined Lillian will not marry him.’

‘But you do not want to be a governess or a companion when you could have your own house. A single woman is not respected by society.’

‘That much is true,’ Millie said. ‘Hopefully, society will change some time. Meanwhile, I suppose I must settle for my own respect.’

‘I cannot stay at Manton Hall!’ Frances spoke the second Sam entered the parlour of the Lansdowne residence.

It was now late afternoon. He had spent the entire day talking to Sir Anthony and writing out a statement and was impatient to see his sister.

However, she was not as well as he had hoped and he felt his apprehension grow as he observed her nervous movements. She