Caught in a Cornish Scandal by Eleanor Webster (top novels of all time .txt) 📗

Edmunds or had some foolish part of her hoped that Sam would tumble into love with her?

Sam belonged to a set of gentlemen who divided women into strict categories: mistresses and wives. She fit neither category, although she was apparently apprenticing for the former. There was no future in developing feelings for Mr Garrett. She did not have the looks, manners or wit necessary. Mr Garrett was from London and occupied a station in life too dissimilar to her own. Her duty lay in sensibly marrying Mr Edmunds.

Despite her exhaustion, rest would not come. Images flickered in front of her eyes. In one moment, she could feel the warmth of his skin, the touch of his fingers, her need and urgency. In the next, she would hear his apologies and see his stricken face and later condemnation. In one second, she would convince herself that she was well rid of him. In the next she would break out in a cold sweat for fear that he would be found guilty and hanged or imprisoned.

Then her thoughts would bounce to Mr Edmunds and she would see her life stretch into dull drudgery. A moment later, and with equal intensity, she would fear that Mr Edmunds would have learned of her smuggling exploits and refuse to marry her.

Indeed, she did not know which scenario was worse.

At last, dawn’s light shimmered through the curtaining and she rose, unable to stay still any longer. She walked to the window. Everything hurt: feet, head, arms, legs, chest. She felt weighted, as though lead lines like those used by the fishermen had been hung on her limbs.

She paced across the bare floor, feet padding softly. How often had she paced this room? She knew the exact number of steps and the moment when the floorboard would creak. She’d waited up for the doctor after Father had collapsed. She’d waited up for Tom night after night. She’d waited up with her mother for the sleeping draught to take effect. She hated waiting and worrying.

A tentative knock sounded at the door. ‘Mils?’ Her sister’s voice was soft and hesitant.

‘Come in,’ she said.

Lil entered. Even in her simple nightgown and with her hair pinned into curls she had stature, elegance and well-proportioned beauty. She moved with a fluidity which often made Millie feel uncoordinated or slap-dash.

‘I heard you pacing and knew you were awake.’

‘Sorry,’ Millie said. ‘I did not mean to disturb you.’

‘Come back to bed. Keep me warm like we did when we were children.’ Lil scrambled under the covers.

Millie joined her, lying down and shivering despite the blankets and her sister’s warmth.

‘Mils, Flora told me everything.’

‘What?’

‘She told me about Lord Harwood wanting to marry me.’

‘She shouldn’t have,’ Millie said.

‘Why not? Why shouldn’t I know? It’s me he wants to marry,’ Lil said pertly.

‘Because I did not want you to worry. I am certain I can determine a solution,’ Millie said.

Lil turned, her head rustling on the pillow as she took Millie’s hand under the covers. ‘You do not have to solve everyone’s problems alone, you know.’

‘You sound like—’ Millie stopped, biting off the sentence. ‘That is the second time someone has said something like that in the past twenty-four hours.’

‘As well you should not marry Mr Edmunds. Mother and Flora seem to think that it’s a perfect solution, but there must be another way.’

Millie glanced across to her sister’s profile, her perfect nose, the sweep of blonde hair lying so smoothly on the pillow. ‘It is definitely preferable that I marry Mr Edmunds than that you marry Lord Harwood.’

‘I won’t marry Lord Harwood. I’ll go with Mother to debtors’ prison first.’ The firmness of her sister’s tone surprised Millie.

‘I am glad. I was worried that Mother might pressure you.’

‘She might try,’ Lil said. ‘But it won’t work. And I wrote to Aunt Carol.’

‘You did?’

‘Yes, she will let us stay with her. Likely as unpaid companions, but it would be better than Harwood.’

‘Yes,’ Millie agreed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I did not get her response until a day ago.’

‘Mother hasn’t spoken to her for a decade. They had that dreadful row when Uncle Taylor invested in one of Father’s schemes. I am surprised she would help.’

Lil sat up, hugging her knees against the early morning chill. ‘I appealed to her sense of pride. I know it is not the whole answer. Tom owed Harwood money and we do not have a solution to that yet, but it’s a start.’

‘It is,’ Millie agreed.

‘Millie,’ Lil said, still hugging her knees, but glancing back at her sister. ‘I am not ungrateful. I know that since Tom died, you have been trying to save us.’

‘Not entirely successfully.’

‘Without you, it would have been impossible. You arranged to rent our land. You sold the livestock we did not need. You paid bills. You organised everything. I am grateful. It felt as though I’d lost everyone: Father, Tom and even Mother, in a sense. But I am stronger now and if we work together, we’ll figure a way through this.’

Millie glanced up at her sister’s face, visible with the early morning light. She realised that she had thought of her sister as a child for too long. ‘Come back under the covers,’ she invited. ‘I am glad Aunt Carol will let you live with her. You will meet someone in London. Indeed, if you marry someone important, it might add to Aunt Carol’s social status, which was always close to her heart. Perhaps that will motivate her to provide you a modest debut.’

Lillian snuggled back down. ‘We will both live with Aunt Carol. That way you need not marry Mr Edmunds.’

Millie gave her sister’s hand a squeeze. ‘We cannot both land on Aunt Carol’s doorstep. Besides, it would take considerably more effort to marry me off than you. No, Mr Edmunds is still the best option for me. And he isn’t an unkind man.’

‘But you do not love him.’

‘Lil, you have read too many books. Love as a basis for marriage is highly overrated.