ornament. Forced to sit about and bear witness to all the goings-on in the family while having nothing of my own. Trapped by my father’s demands. Living on their charity and the pittance I’ve scraped together. Longing for more yet denied any opportunity to pursue it.”
The fire that burned inside him flickered and died, and Mr. Finch wandered to her side, dropping onto the stone beside her.
“So, Miss Barrows, as one who is likewise forced to beg scraps from your family, trapped in a situation not of your making and which you cannot change, do you ever feel hopeless? Like your life has no meaning or purpose? And you are merely existing day to day, each hour stretching into unending emptiness?”
His tone was hollow and devoid of any sentiment, as though he was merely reciting the multiplication tables or describing the weather and state of the roads. But more than that, Mr. Finch’s gaze lacked any feeling. It wasn’t uncommon for him to appear apathetic or bored with the world around him, but this was the bone-deep resignation of one who had surrendered to his misery.
Felicity had seen such an expression before, and the sight of it now threw her back to her childhood when her father had viewed the world with all the warmth and joy of a corpse; those days after her mother’s passing and before they’d gone to live with Uncle George, when Father had spent hours staring off at nothing, ignoring his daughter’s pleas.
“But surely there is some course of action you might take, Mr. Finch. Some gentlemen find success without their family’s assistance.”
Giving a humorless chuckle, he shook his head. “I have some skill with finances, but my father doesn’t approve of banking as a profession for a gentleman, and to go against his wishes or those of my eldest brother would be tantamount to exile from the family. Their honor wouldn’t support one of theirs being in trade.”
Instinct had her reaching to wrap her arms around him, but propriety won out, and Felicity compromised by leaning closer to Mr. Finch, resting her shoulder against him as though that touch might heal some of the hurt his family had caused.
“So, your choice is to forge your own path and lose your family or to be their ornament.” With a faint smile, she added with a touch of humor, “You could always marry an heiress.”
Mr. Finch laughed at that, though it was not a happy thing. “Do you think I have the lures to attract one? An average fellow has no hope of standing out among the extraordinary gentlemen available. I am neither handsome nor witty enough to make up for my empty coffers. And I cannot afford a wife without a hefty dowry.”
Felicity stared at the fellow, wondering if he had any idea just how appealing he could be. Perhaps not overtly handsome, but his features were fine enough, and he was terribly pleasant to be around. Many a lady would welcome such a match.
“But even if I caught an heiress’s eye, I couldn’t bring myself to marry for money. It would only exchange my current prison for another. My complaints aren’t that I lack money or position, for the life I desire needn’t have an abundance of either.”
When he didn’t speak further, Felicity prompted him, needing to hear the thoughts he kept silent. “What sort of life do you desire?”
A light entered his gaze as he looked out at the frozen world, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “One with a purpose. I’ve accepted that my life is not one destined for greatness, but I wish to feel as though I have a place in this world. That I am not merely existing.”
These were perhaps the most honest words Felicity had ever heard. There was no dissembling or half-truths. Watching him, she knew Mr. Finch had shared a bit of his heart that had not seen the light of day before. And that knowledge humbled her.
And shamed her.
Here sat a man burdened with pains foreign to her own, opening his soul to her because of the lie she’d spoken. What comfort could she give to someone so belittled by his family? Perhaps they did not mean to treat him so shabbily, as elder children were always given precedence over the younger, but that did not lessen the damage they’d done.
Filling her heart with silent pleas for guidance, Felicity wished there was something she could say to heal her friend’s heartache.
Chapter 20
Finch