sixteen and was no longer a daughter but had been handed over to her mother to be altered into a wife—someone who no longer greeted her father with hugs but polite curtsies, someone who could no longer steal into the apple tree on a branch and read, but must stay indoors and practice the elegances of ladylike walking. Their long conversations by the fire in the library had stopped, and he no longer took her for morning rides and archery as he did with Crispin. So many things had changed, and her life had become how to be a proper wife to whichever gentleman accorded her the honor.
Only Crispin had remained constant, and she loved him dearly for it.
But now their father stared at her in a searching manner he had not ever turned on her brother.
“And how has Lord Stamford ignored your preferences?” her father asked.
Tentative hope stirred inside, and Maryann tried to not stare at her mother’s flat and disapproving mouth.
“Well, young lady?”
She held her papa’s stare. Maryann couldn’t bear talking about what she’d witnessed. The mere memory alone was mortifying. “He…” Her face heated. “He attempted to kiss me when I did not want him to.” Still uncomfortable to speak about, but it seemed the lesser of the two humiliating encounters.
Her father merely stared, as if trying to understand the creature speaking before him. Maryann almost squirmed under his attention. This was clearly not going to work. They had made their minds up and would not budge. She had only one throw of the dice left that she could try.
Her father folded his paper. “It is the way of courtship for a suitor to steal kisses. Stamford is clearly passionate and not one to hide his feelings. Is that the reason to rebuff a man who seems to be earnestly seeking your hand in marriage? When no other path to marriage stands before you?”
She smoothed back an errant lock of her hair that escaped the loose chignon. “May I speak with frankness, Papa?”
“You may.”
“Like many gentlemen before him, the earl does not see me as a person with thoughts and opinions of my own.” The memory of how he had gripped her chin and his cold mockery crowded her thoughts, and she forcefully shoved them aside.
“There is one more matter. I, er…came across him at the Metcalfs’ ball.” Maryann paused, embarrassed at what she had to say, then blurted out, “He was in a very intimate act with one of the maids. He was unabashed by my presence and bluntly informed me that he had no intention of changing his ways after we married.”
The countess choked swallowing some tea, looking too shocked to say anything either to rebuke Maryann or to criticize Stamford. The earl’s lips had flattened, but he also did not rebuke the earl’s conduct.
Maryann tried again in a more conciliatory tone. “Do you know that I am called a wallflower by almost everyone in the ton? I’ve had four seasons because you insist on parading me to the gentlemen of society as if I am a horse that needs to be taken off your hands, then given to another for breeding.”
Her mother fixed a gimlet stare on her. “Maryann! Such crudeness is unbecoming!”
She lifted her chin. “Each season grows more tedious than the last. The gentlemen of the ton do not find in me a favorable match to marry, despite my rumored dowry of fifty thousand pounds. And Papa, I do not find them favorable.”
Her father stared at her thoughtfully for long seconds, then he said, “Continue.”
Her mother made to protest, but he reached for her hand and brought her knuckles to his mouth in a brief kiss.
“Papa, the only option you have been giving me is marriage to a man who has been speaking to you of an alliance for over three months. Yet in that time, he has not made any attempt to court me. There is no kindness in his eyes. There is no gentleness in his touch, no sincerity in his conversations. For many years, you spoke to me of my worth and how much you cherished me. Yet you want to give me to a man who does not hold me in the same regard and worth that you taught me. If I cannot have at least that in a union, why must I submit to it? Surely, I was not educated and encouraged to dream, and then be told I am only fit to be a bride?”