Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess. Jenni Fletcher
She nodded her head firmly. ‘I’d call it Electra or Orestes, depending on whether it was male or female.’
‘I see you’ve put a lot of thought into this.’
‘I have.’ She leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I tried keeping a stray once. She was mewling so pitifully at the back door so I made her a little bed in the coal shed, but I must have carried her hair inside on my clothes. Silas still sneezed.’ She sighed plaintively. ‘Fortunately, I found her a home with an old lady on our street. They were both very happy.’
‘And why the Greek names?’
‘Oh, I’ve always liked Greek mythology. When I was little I had a book filled with stories and legends. I read it so much that eventually the cover fell off.’
‘You don’t think that Electra and Orestes have somewhat bloodthirsty connotations?’
‘They’re still nice names.’
‘I suppose so.’ His lips twitched in bemusement. The conversation was so odd he half-wondered if he was dreaming again. ‘Well then, can’t you have a cat now? Or does your brother still live at home?’
‘No.’ Her expression turned anxious. ‘He went to America to seek his fortune just over a year ago. He sent several letters at first, but now we haven’t had any word in seven months. We’re all worried.’
‘Naturally.’
‘I’m sure there are all kinds of good reasons why we haven’t received any letters, but if I were to get a cat, it would be like admitting he wasn’t coming back at all.’
‘I see.’
‘But maybe I’ll get one if—’ She stopped mid-sentence, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink colour.
‘If…?’
‘If I marry.’ She lifted her teacup and held it at chin level. ‘A friend of the family, our local Curate, asked me to marry him last week.’
‘Indeed?’ He felt a jolt in his chest, a reflexive stab of something like disappointment. ‘You don’t sound very enthusiastic.’
‘Because he’s a friend. I know we could get along perfectly well together. He’s a good man and I respect him, but I don’t know if I could ever care for him in the right way. As a husband, I mean.’
‘Have you told him that?’
‘Oh, yes, and he said he’s had similar thoughts about me as a wife, but overall he considers friendship more important than love.’ She took a sip of tea and then looked up abruptly. ‘Isn’t that odd? If you were married, wouldn’t you want your partner to be more than just a friend?’
Yes. Unquestionably. Undoubtedly. Unequivocally.
The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them with a mouthful of too-hot tea. ‘I suppose so. Some people might even say it was integral.’
‘He’s never even tried to kiss me.’ She murmured the words as if to herself and then blushed violently again. ‘Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘Why not? Kissing is another important aspect of marriage.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Her eyelashes fluttered. ‘That’s what I was afraid of. Only he doesn’t seem to want to and every time I even try to imagine kissing him, my mind just shies away from the idea. Last week I polished all the brass in the house just to avoid thinking about it! I know I oughtn’t to say it, especially to another man, but it just doesn’t feel right.’
‘Then I believe you might have your answer to his proposal.’
‘It’s not as simple as that!’ She sounded indignant. ‘I wish it were.’
‘But surely if you don’t feel the right way…?’
‘How I feel has nothing to do with it. My mother and sister and I are almost down to the last of our savings. Without my brother’s money coming from America, we can’t afford our rent, let alone food, at least not without taking money from the Foundation and Mother would hate to do that. If I don’t marry, then we could be destitute.’
‘You can’t marry just for a place to live.’
‘Says the man who’s allowed to make his own living.’ She gave him a scornful look. ‘Having a place to live is the reason why a lot of women marry. We have to be practical.’
‘Can’t you strive for happiness, too?’
‘Keeping a roof over my family’s heads will make me happy.’
‘Even if it makes you want to go out into the woods and scream?’
She knitted her brows together, taking another sip of tea before answering. ‘Even if it does that, yes.’
‘What about love? Your suitor might not think it important, but what do you think?’
If he wasn’t mistaken, her breath caught at the word love. ‘That would be another sacrifice, but I believe marriages without love are quite common.’
‘Pardon my saying so, but you sound very cynical about it.’
‘I suppose I am. Only I’ve met all kinds of women at the Foundation and I’ve listened to their stories. I know the real world isn’t romantic.’
‘On the whole I’d agree with you, but you seem a little too young to give up.’
‘I’m twenty-five.’ Her eyes shot to his and then softened. ‘Forgive me, you might be right. I know that true love exists because I saw it with my parents, but I can’t let my mother and sister be thrown out of our home just because I want the same thing. It would be selfish of me. Besides, what if I never meet a man I can fall in love with?’
‘What if you do?’
‘And what if we all starve or freeze to death in the meantime?’
‘I still say that marrying this suitor of yours is a sacrifice too far.’ He felt suddenly determined to convince her. If she was so desperate for money, then he would be more than happy to help, though he could hardly make the offer at that moment without it sounding somewhat indecent. Perhaps what she needed was a different kind of convincing.
‘All right, Just Millie, tell me this.’ He leaned closer towards her. ‘Do you think you could ever love this man?’
‘As a friend or a brother, yes. As a wife, no.’
‘Because you can’t imagine kissing him?’
‘In part.’
‘Have you ever been kissed?’
‘Mr Whitlock!’ Her body jerked so abruptly that tea sloshed on to his dressing gown.
‘Don’t worry about that.’ He reached for her cup, putting it aside as she started to wipe herself down. ‘I shouldn’t have put the question so bluntly, but have you considered that it might just be the thought of kissing itself that puts you off? If you’ve never tried it, perhaps you’re simply nervous?’
‘Perhaps.’ She pulled her shoulders back stiffly and folded her hands in her lap, seeming to make a concerted effort to regain her composure, though her expression was still flustered. ‘Yes, I suppose it could be that.’
‘In which case, maybe I can help.’
Green eyes widened like saucers. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Just that if you’d like to try then I’d be more than happy to oblige.’
‘You would be…’ He hadn’t thought that her eyes could get any bigger, but apparently he’d been wrong. Fortunately, the expression in them was more bewildered