“It seems to me that particular ship has long since sailed,” Edwina said under her breath.
“What?” Mother snapped.
“Mother,” Amelia said in a mollifying tone. “Cordelia has always done precisely as she’s pleased.”
Cordelia drew her brows together. “No, I haven’t.”
Amelia cast her a tolerant smile. “My dear, we’ve watched you do exactly that through the years. Oh, you’ve never been openly rebellious, but all in all you’ve done just as you’ve wished.”
“We think you’re extremely spoiled.” Edwina’s smile tempered her words. “On occasion we’ve been quite jealous.”
“Jealous.” Cordelia stared. “Of me?”
“Of course,” Amelia said. “You’ve traveled to fascinating parts of the world we’ll probably never see. One can scarcely pick up a ladies’ magazine these days without seeing one of your pieces. Your life is very much an adventure while ours are, well, not. As much as we love our husbands and our children, it has long seemed to us that you have followed your, I don’t know, desires I suppose, heart if you will, more so than anyone else we know.”
“I would have liked to have studied art in Paris,” Edwina said in an aside to Cordelia.
“Bea has mentioned on more than one occasion how much she would have liked to have dug for ancient artifacts in Greece. And I,” Amelia drew a deep breath. “I should have quite liked to have learned how to operate a camera and take photographs.”
Mother’s eyes widened with horror.
Sarah tried and failed to hide a smile.
“I never imagined,” Cordelia murmured.
“No, of course not.” Amelia reached her hand across the table and patted Cordelia’s hand. “My dear little sister, a full eleven years separates my age from yours. Winnie, Bea, and I are very close in age and therefore we have been very close as sisters. I regret that we have never included you in that particular bond but it doesn’t mean we don’t care for you, and aren’t proud of you as well. And then you have had Sarah who has hopefully made up for our failures in that respect.”
“However, it’s past time to do something to show you how we feel.” Edwina met her mother’s gaze directly. “We’ve discussed this with Beatrice and the three of us agree that Cordelia should not be forced to marry Mr. Sinclair. It is her life after all.”
“What?” Mother’s forehead furrowed.
Father’s paper rustled.
“We don’t think it’s right.” Amelia drew a deep breath. “You’re bartering her off as if she were so much excess farm stock.”
Sarah choked.
“That’s a lovely vision,” Cordelia said under her breath.
“And to an American, Mother. An American.” Amelia shook her head as if the word American was interchangeable with savage or cannibal or heathen. “How could you?”
“Quite easily,” Mother said sharply. “The girl needs to marry and this is her opportunity. You’ve said it yourself, she’s done exactly as she’s wished up to now. It’s past time she live up to her familial responsibilities. Besides, right here at this very table not five minutes ago she admitted she does indeed wish to marry.”
“No doubt to a man of her own choosing,” Edwina scoffed. “Precisely as we did.”
“But she hasn’t as of yet, has she? Chosen a man, that is. Cordelia has failed to find a husband on her own and she’s fast approaching an age where her chances of ever doing so diminish dramatically.” Mother shook her head in a warning manner. “Men might well overlook a woman’s obvious intelligence if she is pretty enough and Cordelia is, at the moment. But she is getting older and old and smart is not an attractive combination.”
“But an American, Mother.” Amelia glared.
“A wealthy American. Do keep that in mind.” Mother huffed. “Marriage to your sister will not be an inexpensive proposition. Regardless of nationality, she certainly couldn’t marry a poor man.”
A vision of Warren flashed through Cordelia’s mind. He wasn’t poor—although Mother would no doubt think him so—and he did have excellent prospects. It was one thing to marry a wealthy American and quite another to marry an American who had to work for his living. Still, Warren had no business being in her head at all and she reluctantly banished him.
“No, poor wouldn’t suit her,” Edwina murmured. “Nor would it suit any of us.” She glanced at her older sister and nodded.
“Mother.” Amelia chose her words with care. “We, Winnie and Bea and I, are quite well off in a financial sense—”
“You married wisely,” Mother said pointedly.
“We’ve all three spoken to our husbands and we are in agreement.” Amelia squared her shoulders and met her mother’s gaze directly. “We shall provide whatever funding is necessary to save Father’s business and eliminate the need for Cordelia to marry the American.”
For a moment no one said anything. Mother looked stunned, Sarah only mildly surprised, and Cordelia was shocked. Not so much by the generosity of the offer but by the fact that her sisters had made it to save her. She hadn’t even thought her sisters particularly liked her.
“That’s very generous of you, dear.” Father lowered his paper. “Please express my appreciation to your husbands.” He folded his paper in a thoughtful manner. “Certainly, an influx of cash would be helpful at the moment but it does not solve all my problems. The best hope for that is this arrangement with the elder Mr. Sinclair.” His gaze skimmed the circle of women. “You should all realize as well that, regardless of the consequences, Cordelia is not being forced to marry. For good or ill.” His gaze met his youngest daughter’s. “We have left the ultimate decision in her hands as it is, as you have all pointed out, her life. We believe she will reach the decision best for her future and the futures of all concerned.”
Cordelia smiled weakly. What real choice did she have? She had begun to believe she could avoid this marriage but perhaps that was nothing more than wishful thinking on her part helped along by the memory of the dark eyes of a pirate.
“I had already planned on taking the train to London myself tomorrow to attend to business,” Father continued. “If Cordelia can wait until tomorrow, I should be happy to accompany her and Sarah. I shall return to Brighton the following day.”
Mother gasped. “You’ll leave them home alone? What will,” she narrowed her eyes, “what will Mr. Sinclair think?”
“I doubt Mr. Sinclair will think anything of it one way or the other,” Father said firmly.
“He’s an American after all,” Amelia said under her breath.
“Besides, they’ll scarcely be alone in a house full of servants.” Father heaved a resigned sigh. “My sister is in residence in London at the moment and if you wish, I shall call on Lavinia and ask her to stay at the house.”
Mother pressed her lips together but held her tongue, although Cordelia expected she’d have words with Father later.
The rest of the meal was finished in silence. Cordelia suspected everyone else at the table had as much to reflect upon as she did. Obviously she would have to tell Warren the truth and tell him as well whatever was growing between them was at an end. The oddest pain stabbed her heart at the thought. Nonsense, they’d shared little more than a few conversations and one mere kiss. Although mere was not entirely accurate. Heat pooled in her stomach at the very thought of his lips on hers. Well, whether she wished it to be or not, that particular adventure was at an end. She should never have begun it in the first place. She’d known from the start it was a silly escapade that would end badly. It was frivolous and irresponsible and far more exciting than it should have been.
Besides, she wanted her parents to treat her as an adult although even she could see her behavior wasn’t always up to adult standards. Her sisters were right. She was indeed spoiled and had always managed to get whatever she’d wanted without ever having to truly stand up for herself. Today her sisters had done that for her.
It was past time Cordelia Victoria Williams Bannister b
ecame an adult. Past time she realized that adulthood brought with it certain responsibilities. Past time she accepted them.
And probably past time as well to at last meet Mr. Daniel Sinclair.
There remain today places in the world where natives live exactly as they did eons ago. A clever traveler will not look askance at such ways of life but rather appreciate them as expressions of a foreign heritage that, while different from our own, are no less worthy.
An English Lady’s Traveling Companion
Chapter 8
Mr. Sinclair,
I was sorry to read what little value you place on history. Understandable, perhaps, as your country has so little history of its own. I should think it must be rather sad not to have the richness of heritage we so cherish in my country. As to any stifling of progress, as you so eloquently phrased it, perhaps, in your country, you did not hear of the Great Exposition? Or perhaps you are unaware as to the current breadth of the British Empire…
The day after his return to London, Daniel stood before the door of a suite at Claridge’s Hotel and tried to summon up his courage to knock. Not that he needed courage, of course, but a certain strength of character was required. He hadn’t seen his father for months, not since they’d met in Italy and the elder Sinclair had informed him he’d arranged for Daniel to marry the daughter of a deceased British gentleman. That Daniel had escaped that arrangement could be attributed to little more than good timing and sheer luck.
“Change the rules,” Daniel said under his breath.
It wasn’t that Daniel didn’t love his father, they simply disagreed about virtually everything. Nowhere was that conflict more intense than when it came to Daniel’s life. He and his father had been engaged in a war of sorts nearly from the time he had been as young as those mischievous nephews of Lady Cordelia’s. Which did not make it easy to ask for his help now.
Daniel drew a deep breath and knocked on the door. He was about to knock again when it jerked open.
“Yes?” A tall woman stood in the doorway and stared at him in a haughty manner. Her eyes were piercing, her hair was a red color Daniel would not have thought could be produced by nature, and her complexion flawless. She couldn’t have been more than perhaps ten years older than he. Good God, he groaned to himself, this must be his new mother. “Did you want something?”
He cleared his throat. “I was told these are Mr. Sinclair’s rooms?”
“Indeed, they are.” Her gaze slid over him in an assessing and distinctly personal manner. He resisted the odd urge to shift from foot to foot. “And you are?”
“Daniel Sinclair.”
She arched a perfectly formed brow. “You’re the son? You don’t look at all like your father, fortunately. Do come in.”
He stepped into a large, well-appointed sitting room. She closed the door behind him and took his hat from his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Sinclair.” She seated herself on a chair and gestured at a nearby sofa. “Or may I call you Daniel? Now that we’re family.”
“Of course…” And what was he supposed to call her? Surely she didn’t expect him to call her Mother? “Er, Mrs. Sinclair.”
“Mrs. Sinclair?” She laughed. “I daresay, I never thought I’d hear anyone call me Mrs. Sinclair.”
“I wasn’t sure what to call you,” he said under his breath.
“You may call her Countess Paretti.” A female voice sounded from the open door to his right. “Or Ursula.”
Ursula leaned toward him and lowered her voice in a decidedly seductive manner. “Auntie Ursula.”
He jumped to his feet and turned toward the door. A short, plump, mature woman with dark red hair and a friendly smile sailed toward him. “But her sister calls her ‘most annoying.’ I am Felice Di Mecurio Sinclair.”
He stared and realized he must look like something of an idiot.
She took his hands in hers. Her eyes were a lovely clear shade of blue and abruptly Daniel realized, while not as striking as the other woman, she was beautiful nonetheless. “Your father’s wife and your…” She laughed. “Well, I’m not entirely sure. Stepmother I suppose, although you’re obviously past the age of needing a stepmother. You may call me Felice if you like, but my friends have always called me Daisy.”
“I should be honored,” he murmured.
“I’m not what you expected, am I?” Amusement danced in her blue eyes.
“I thought you were an opera singer,” he blurted.
“I am. Or rather I was.”
“There’s a vast difference between an operatic soprano and a tart in the chorus, although most men don’t seem to realize it,” Ursula said dryly.
Daisy leaned toward him in a confidential manner. “Would you like to see me break a glass with a single note?”
Ursula groaned. “Do say no. It makes a nasty mess.” She paused. “Good trick, though.”
He chuckled in spite of himself. “Although I would like to see that, I’ll forgo the pleasure today.”
“Another time then. Now.” Daisy settled in the chair opposite her sister’s and gestured for him to retake his seat. “I expect your father to return at any minute. Until then, we can get to know one another.”
He sat down, still trying to reconcile his preconceived notions of the type of woman his father would marry with this delightful and charming lady.
“I suspect you have any number of questions for me. I imagine you’re quite curious.” She studied him with a sympathetic eye. “It must be awkward to find oneself with a new mother at your age.”
“Oh, it’s certainly awkward,” he said under his breath. Still, his gaze slipped to Ursula, it could have been much worse. “I barely remember my own mother. I must confess I never expected my father to marry again.”
“I never expected to marry again either,” Daisy said with a shrug. “I married when I was very young to a brilliant maestro who died tragically—”
“Run through with a sword by a jealous husband,” Ursula said in a conversational manner, as if she were relating nothing of particular significance. “And well deserved I might add.”
Daisy cast her sister a quelling glance. “We’d been married less than two years—”
Ursula huffed. “I said it was well deserved.”
“From then on I concentrated on my work.”
“Are you very famous?” Daniel said without thinking. “My apologies if you are. I have to admit I am not well versed in opera.”
“Indeed she is,” Ursula said staunchly.
“Nonsense, Ursula, I wouldn’t say that at all, but I do appreciate the sentiment.” She smiled at her sister and Daniel realized no matter how at odds the two women appeared, they were really very close. “In terms of fame, I would say I am well known in operatic circles, particularly in Europe. Critics have always liked me as have directors, and, of course, audiences. I have a modicum of fame, perhaps. But of course, that’s at an end now.”
“Pity,” Ursula muttered.
Daniel drew his brows together. “Why is it at an end?”
Surprise crossed Daisy’s face. “Because I’ve married your father. I’m very much looking forward to being a wife and managing a household. I never have, you know. In the future, I will confine my singing to charitable endeavors. I’m quite eager to return to America to live.”
“We were born in Philadelphia,” Ursula added. “Although we have spent most of our lives in Italy.”
“And I am looking forward as well to being as much of a mother as you wish. And perhaps someday a grandmother.” She smiled. “I have always wanted to be a mother and I’m delighted, even at this late juncture, to finally have the opportunity.”
“Auntie Ursula would be happy to bounce you on her knee,” Ursula said with a wicked light in her eye that was more than a little frightening.
“Stop it, Ursula,” Daisy said firmly. “You’ll give Daniel the wrong idea entirely. He doesn’t know that you’re teasing.”
“Teasing?” Her sister raised a brow. “Yes, of co
urse. That’s exactly what I was doing.” Ursula leaned forward and put her hand on his knee. “I can be quite a tease.”
“I should warn you, Ursula has always been partial to handsome young men for amusement.” Daisy pinned her sister with a hard look. “But she does understand nephews are prohibited.”
“Yes, of course.” His new aunt removed her hand and said under her breath, “but I don’t see why.”
“Because it’s improper, impolite, and any flirtation would put the poor boy in an extremely awkward position. He’s a relative now and one should try not to seduce one’s relations, and because,” Daisy’s voice hardened, “I said so.”
“Oh, well then…” Ursula rolled her gaze toward the ceiling.
“You must forgive my sister, she has no sense of…well, she has no sense.”
“But she has a great deal of fun.” Ursula flashed her sister an unrepentant smile. “Between husbands, that is.”
“Regardless of Ursula’s definition of fun, she has a distinct mercenary streak when it comes to marriage. She has always married for money and position, and always men considerably older. Three times now, dear?”
“Yes, but I quite liked the last one.” Ursula sighed. “Count Paretti was a charming man. Pity, he had to pass on so soon.”
“Men of advanced age tend to do that,” Daisy said wryly.
“Might I ask, and I mean no offense by the question.” Daniel looked at Daisy and chose his words carefully. “Why did you marry my father?”
“I don’t mind the question at all.” Daisy smiled. “The usual reasons, I think.”
“He has a great deal of money,” Ursula said in an offhand manner.
“Yes, but I have a great deal of money as well, which negates that. Although I wouldn’t have wed anyone who was not wealthy in his own right.” Daisy shook her head slowly. “When one is financially well off, one is always aware that potential suitors may be more interested in one’s fortune than one’s character. Money was not a serious consideration.”
She thought for a moment. “Your father and I are not so far apart in age that we do not share a mutual history of the world, as it were. Indeed, in terms of our likes and dislikes, we have a great deal in common. Beyond that, he has a kind heart and a generous nature. He’s tolerant and intelligent and amusing.” She met Daniel’s gaze directly. “He makes me laugh and makes me feel as if I were a girl again. I quite fell in love with him, and I have every intention of making him happy for the rest of our days.”
Secrets of a Proper Lady Page 13