“I understand,” Elise breathed. She felt faint but remained standing upright, her knuckles white on the back of the chair.
“You will be the wife of a great man. Your sons will be of noble birth, and you will be received at court. I know that Edward Asher is not your heart’s desire, but you will benefit from this union, as will your sisters. Our family will weather this crisis.”
“Yes, Father,” Elise replied woodenly. “May I go now?”
“Go on. You need some time to absorb this news.”
“When does Lord Asher wish to marry?”
“In three weeks’ time, at the New Year.”
“That soon?” Elise willed herself not to cry, but her voice sounded shaky.
“You will be ready.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. She would be ready; she had no choice. The bargain had been struck and she was the chattel that would be transferred as payment of debt—human cargo replacing material goods.
Elise didn’t bother to shut the door behind her as she fled the room. She needed time alone to sort out her tumultuous feelings and prepare a story for her sisters. Amy and Anne were only thirteen and nine, too young to understand the implications of the Celeste’s sinking. They’d lost their mother less than a year ago, and now they would lose their sister as well. To show them the depth of her despair would only make the inevitable separation more difficult for them, so Elise had to put on a brave face and make them believe that this match was of her own choosing.
Elise climbed the stairs to her room and shut the door, locking it behind her. The girls would be expecting her in the parlor, but she couldn’t bear to face them just yet. She couldn’t calmly work on her sewing when she was battling rising hysteria. In three weeks, she would be married off to a man she barely knew. Elise had met Lord Asher once when he visited her father on a matter of business. She’d seen him twice more since then, but no words had been exchanged besides a curt greeting. Lord Asher had bowed to her, his eyes never leaving her face as his lips stretched into a half-hearted smile. Elise assumed he was just being polite, although a man of his station had no obligation to be polite to the likes of her.
Elise sat in front of the cold hearth and pulled a warm shawl about her shoulders, but it did little to warm her. She closed her eyes and tried to picture herself standing next to Edward Asher in church as a vicar bound them for eternity, giving her new husband complete control over her life. Edward Asher was an imposing man, to be sure, but old enough to be her father. He has to be at least five and forty, Elise thought miserably. She shuddered and opened her eyes. The only way to accept this new reality was to focus on the positive things about her future husband. Elise was hard-pressed to find any, but she had to, so she began with his looks.
Lord Asher was of above-average height, and despite his age, he was still in good physical form. He didn’t run to fat, nor had he lost his hair. She supposed he wore a wig when at court, but when he’d come to visit her father, he wore his own hair, which was a rich brown with only a few strands of gray silvering the temples. His gray eyes were not unkind, and he did smile easily, which spoke of a good temperament. As far as Elise knew, he had no children, at least not ones still living.
Elise supposed that any girl of her station would be honored to marry a man like Lord Asher, who would pluck her from complete obscurity and elevate her practically overnight to become one of the ladies of the royal court. To be wealthy and titled and received by His Majesty Charles II was the stuff of dreams for young maidens, but that had never been Elise’s aspiration. She’d never been inside the palace, but she had seen courtiers out and about, carousing in the Strand and enjoying pleasure cruises on the river. They were like peacocks, draped in yards of exquisite fabric and lace, painted like whores, and adorned with bows, ribbons, and ridiculous curly wigs, which made even the most masculine of men look like overgrown poodles. Most people gleefully accepted the new fashions when Charles II took the throne, tired as they were of the black and gray of Puritan rule that had been the order of the day for so long. The theaters had reopened, music and color burst into people’s lives with a gaiety most had forgotten, and suddenly, life was good again. Everyone, from the wealthiest nobleman to the poorest wretch, was glad to be alive.
But now, after half a decade of excess and frivolity, the unbearable glitter of royal glamour had begun to fade, and the common people were beginning to tire of the careless spending of their new king, their lot in life still not much better than it had been during the reign of his father and the tyranny of Oliver Cromwell.
Elise had no desire to become one of the cheap, painted ladies of the court, who indulged in sinful games, thinly veiled sexual innuendo, and provocative masques, the only purpose of which was to showcase their charms and catch the interest of a new lover. Elise was a good, Christian woman, and she wanted nothing more than to be like her own mother: a faithful wife and loving mother, with a husband who was loyal and devoted even after decades of marriage. And she’d come so close to achieving that dream.
Elise had been nursing a tender affection for Gavin Talbot, her father’s clerk, for the past two years. Gavin was kind, thoughtful, and hardworking. He would never be rich, but through hard work and careful planning, he would surely be able to offer his family a comfortable living. And he was handsome. Gavin had sandy hair and wide blue eyes that shone with good humor. He’d always had a kind word and a smile for Elise, even when she was still a young girl and beyond his notice. Now that she was a woman of seventeen, Gavin was in his mid-twenties and ready to start his own family. No betrothal had taken place, but there was an understanding between them that with her father’s permission, they would marry once the year of mourning for her mother was over. Elise had never spoken to her father of her feelings for Gavin, but she was sure he knew. Hugh de Lesseps was an observant man, a man who was a devoted father to his girls, and who, she believed, genuinely wished for their happiness. He would have consented had this catastrophe not struck their family, Elise was sure of it.
And now Gavin was as far removed from her as the moon. Her father had a debt to repay, and she was the currency. There was no one else. Elise bit her lip to keep from crying. She had no choice. If she refused, her father and brothers would be ruined, and her sisters would have no chance of a respectable marriage. It was her duty to honor her father’s wishes and make a good marriage that would benefit the whole family. Few girls had the luxury of choosing their own husbands, and even fewer had expectations of a happy marriage. Lord Asher would be good to her, and she would want for nothing. Perhaps she could even help Amy and Anne make an advantageous match when the time came.
Elise sprang to her feet when she heard footsteps outside her door and the excited voices of her sisters. She forced a smile onto her face just as the two girls burst into the room. “Father says there’s to be a wedding,” Amy exclaimed. “Oh, that’s so exciting. I can’t wait until I am a bride.” She sighed dramatically and did a little pirouette.
“Father says there’s to be dancing and a great feast. Do say we can come, Elise,” Amy pleaded.
“You’ll have to ask Father. You two are too young to attend, but perhaps you can watch from the gallery, if the wedding is to be held here.”
Amy continued to perform dance steps as she gazed at herself in the cheval glass, but Anne stood quietly by the door, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. She was the more sensitive of the two and had taken their mother’s death very hard. Her grief was still as fresh as it had been when their mother breathed her last, and Elise worried how she would cope once her big sister was gone. Amy was too young and frivolous to give her sister the support she so sorely needed.
“You’re going to leave us,” Anne whispered as she ran to Elise and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Oh, what are we going to do without you?” she said and began to sob.
“Come now, Annie. It won’t be so bad. I’ll be a great lady, and you might be able to visit me in my house across the river. Just think of it.�
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Anne’s eyes grew round with wonder. She’d never been across the river. There was no call for the girls to leave their house in Southwark; everything they needed was right there. But Lord Asher lived in the Strand, where Elise’s new home would be. She’d never seen Lord Asher’s house, but she’d heard her father speak of it. Grand, it was, he said, and well appointed, with tapestries on the walls, carpets on the floors, and fine furnishings. There were many servants: maids, cooks, grooms, and gardeners. Perhaps Hugh de Lesseps viewed this turn of events as fortuitous. Elise only wished she could bring herself to feel the same.
The House on the Hill: A Ghost Story Page 36