He was all of one and thirty and had been contemplating marriage for the past year at least. But he’d never actually wanted to marry until he laid eyes on Miss Appersett. Within ten minutes of meeting her, he’d pictured her on his arm as he attended the entertainments of the season. Within a month, he’d envisioned her presiding over his house and warming his bed. His wife. Mrs. Sophia Sharpe, daughter of Sir William of Appersett House.
Setting his plan in motion had taken no effort at all. Sir William was practically a bankrupt. His only asset, besides his famous estate in Derbyshire, was the vast beauty possessed by his two daughters. He and his wife had brought Miss Appersett and her younger sister, Emily, to London with the hopes of finding them rich husbands.
And Ned was rich, for all the good it had done him.
He sat down behind his desk and resumed reading his reports. He might as well have attempted to read a document written in ancient Greek. He couldn’t focus. Couldn’t rid his mind of the sound of Miss Appersett’s quiet voice uttering those five fateful words.
We simply do not suit.
A sharp rap at the door wrenched Ned from his melancholy thoughts. He looked up to see his business partner, Walter Murray, strolling into his office.
“Well?” Walter asked.
Ned cast aside his papers and met his friend’s inquiring eyes. “I’ve been jilted.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Walter sat in the chair across from him as Ned apprised him of his meeting with Miss Appersett. When he finished, Walter gave an eloquent grimace. “You have my sympathies. But…she’s not entirely wrong about the two of you being ill-suited.”
Ned scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re as different as chalk and cheese.”
“How the devil would you know?”
“I’ve seen you together. That afternoon at Cremorne Gardens when we watched the high-wire act. And then again at Mrs. Ashburnham’s dinner party. I had more in common with Miss Appersett’s little sister than you had with Miss Appersett herself.”
“Rubbish.”
“You hardly said two words to the girl.”
“Not all of us are blessed with your innate charm.”
Walter snorted. “It wasn’t lack of charm. Though I won’t disagree that you fall short in that department. It was that you never seemed yourself around her—as if you were trying to be someone else.”
“I was trying to be respectful. To abide by the rules.”
“It’s not the way you would have courted a mason’s daughter.”
Ned glared at his friend. Walter was himself the son of a stonemason. The two of them had grown up together, both ambitious and both anxious to gain acceptance into society. “Miss Appersett isn’t a mason’s daughter. Her father only gave me leave to court her because I have money. Because he believed I could pass for one of them.”
“Just because you can pass for one of them doesn’t mean you are one of them.”
“A brilliant observation.”
“It’s the truth. Sometimes I think you forget it.”
“I never forget it,” Ned said in a low voice. The assertion betrayed far more feeling than he’d intended.
Walter’s expression briefly softened. “You’re truly broken up about this, aren’t you?”
Was he? Ned didn’t know. In all honesty, he couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment. A bewildering mass of disappointment, anger, and heartache was churning in his chest and in his stomach. He was quite tempted to put his fist through the wall. Either that or retire to his rooms with a large bottle of whiskey. Perhaps he was coming down with something?
“Did you love her?” Walter asked.
“No.” It was the truth. He hadn’t loved Sophia Appersett. How could he? He hardly knew her. Their relationship had never progressed beyond the veriest commonplace discussions about current events or the weather. Even then, Miss Appersett had done most of the talking.
And yet, seeing her had been the brightest spot in his day.
No, it hadn’t been love, but it had been…something. Something warm and filled with promise. Something that was gone now, irrevocably, leaving him empty and alone.
“I admired her. A great deal.”
The understatement of a lifetime.
“And Miss Appersett didn’t admire you in return, is that it?” Walter considered the matter. “What does that etiquette book of yours advise in these circumstances? A tin of sweets? A flowery apology?”
Ned stifled a groan. “I wish to God I’d never told you about that blasted book.”
Walter flashed a broad grin. It only served to make Ned more irritable. Things had always been easy for Walter Murray. He had a natural way about him. A twinkle in his green eyes and a spring in his step. With his long, lean frame and ginger-colored hair, he wasn’t particularly handsome. Nevertheless, people seemed to like him. Women seemed to like him.
“What you should do,” he advised, “is wait until Christmas and then, when you’re in Derbyshire, fall on your knees and beg her for a second chance.”
Ned leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He was beginning to develop a pounding headache.
There would be no second chance with Miss Appersett. And even if there were, what use would it be? She’d already rejected him at his gentlemanly best. He had nothing left to offer her. No further way to prove himself worthy.
“I won’t be going to Derbyshire for Christmas.”
“Why not?”
“Damnation, Walter. Haven’t you heard a word I’ve been saying? My relationship with Miss Appersett is over. She’s called it off.”
“Ah, but has she rescinded your invitation to Appersett House?”
Ned gave a short, humorless laugh. “No, but I’m not likely to go, am I? Not after Miss Appersett’s given me my marching orders.”
“But—”
“She’s made her feelings plain and I mean to respect them.”
“And that’s an end to it?”
“It is.” Ned returned his attention to his papers, resolved to ignore the heavy ache in his heart. “My time with Miss Appersett was a pleasant interlude, but now it’s over. I shall go on as I did before. The world doesn’t end simply because I’ve had a personal disappointment.”
But he certainly felt like it had.
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My seventeen-year-old Siamese cat Sapphire was with me every moment I wrote the first draft of this story. Often in ill health during the final year of his life, he spent all of his time curled up beside me on a heating pad. On February 1st, the day after I finished the final chapter, he died. His death, though not unsurprising given his age, was a devastating blow. He was with me nearly half my life, through college, law school, work, books, spine surgeries, and house moves. My constant companion in good times and bad. All that to say that, if there is a spirit of love and friendship in any aspect of this story, it came from having Saph in my life. I’m so grateful to have known and loved him.
In addition to Sapphire, I also owe many thanks to all of the humans who helped to bring A Modest Independence to life:
To my very patient and sharp-sighted beta readers, Flora, Sarah, Lauren, and Lena; my equally patient and sharp-sighted editor, Deb Nemeth; my cover designer, James Egan; my interior designer, Colleen; to Charlotte for translations; to Adam and Jackie for assistance with Victorian military history; and to my parents for moral support, pet babysitting, and cake.
Last, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank you, my readers. I appreciate your support more than I can express.
USA Today bestselling author Mimi Matthews writes both historical non-fiction and traditional historical romances set in Victorian England. Her articles on nineteenth century history have been published on various academic and histo
ry sites, including the Victorian Web and the Journal of Victorian Culture, and are also syndicated weekly at BUST Magazine. In her other life, Mimi is an attorney. She resides in California with her family, which includes an Andalusian dressage horse, two Shelties, and a Siamese cat.
To learn more, please visit
www.MimiMatthews.com
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NON-FICTION
The Pug Who Bit Napoleon:
Animal Tales of the 18th and 19th Centuries
A Victorian Lady’s Guide to Fashion and Beauty
FICTION
The Lost Letter
A Victorian Romance
The Viscount and the Vicar’s Daughter
A Victorian Romance
A Holiday by Gaslight
A Victorian Christmas Novella
The Matrimonial Advertisement
Parish Orphans of Devon, Book 1
Barber, Captain James. The Overland Guide-Book. London: Wm. H. Allen and Co., 1850.
Bengal: Past and Present, Vol. 2. Calcutta: Calcutta General Printing Co., 1908.
Bradshaw’s Railway, &c. Through Route and Overland Guide to India, Egypt, and China. London: W. J. Adams, 1861.
“Calcutta.” Household Words, Vol. XVI. London: Charles Dickens & Evans, 1857.
The Darjeeling Himalayan Railway: Illustrated Guide for Tourists. Calcutta: Messrs. Gillanders, Arbuthnot & Co., 1896.
“Days in North India.” Good Words for 1870. London: Strahan & Co., 1870.
“Diary of a Journey from Alexandria to Suez.” Sharpe’s London Magazine, Vols. I and II. London: T. B. Sharpe, 1847.
“Egyptian Railways.—The Isthmus Transit.” American Railroad Journal, Vol. XXXVIII. New York: John H. Schultz, 1865.
“An Englishwoman Among the Himalayas.” Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, Vol. LIII. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1876.
Fane, Henry Edward Hamlyn. Five Years in India, Vols. I-II. London: Henry Colburn, 1842.
Firminger, Rev. W. K. Thacker’s Guide to Calcutta. Calcutta: Thacker, Spink, & Co., 1906.
“A Lady’s Railway Journey in India.” Choice Literature: A Monthly Magazine. New York: John B. Alden, 1884.
Minturn, Robert B., Jr. From New York to Delhi. New York: D. Appleton, 1858.
Simms, Frederick Walter. England to Calcutta, by the Overland Route, in 1845. London: Harrison and Sons, 1878.
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