in much the way he had bedeviled the carpet the night before, “Boring had to marry for money. He had to, and I had no quarrel with that, until he began distinguishing you in that very open manner. I thought . . . we all believed he was madly, hopelessly in love, and proposed to forfeit the estate, give up everything, in order to marry you.
“Well, you appeared to return his affections, so there seemed nothing to be done about it. And your mother was so dense about understanding when people tried to hint at his financial situation. I believe he did love you, but then . . . well, practicalities intervened. Real life, and real responsibilities, as presented by Mrs. Westing, mostly. She’d hoped to get her hands on Vincy’s fortune, of course, but Miss Vincy doesn’t want to marry, and Boring hasn’t the brains or character to appreciate her, so—”
I interrupted. “You say that Miss Vincy does not wish to marry. Not even . . . not even you? She is very fond of you.”
He looked up, surprised. “Me? Lord no. She’s fond of me, yes, as I am of her. But marriage? Never. She’s had an unfortunate experience—well, you know that! She no more wants to marry me than she does that young idiot Godalming. All she wants to do is to be left alone to paint. Nor have I the least desire to marry her, as much as I like and admire her.”
I shook my head slowly, trying to clear it.
“I do not understand. The Baron and Mrs. Westing, poor, and you, whom I believed to be merely your cousin’s man of business, rich? Where did the money come from? I beg your pardon for my curiosity, but I really feel I must know.”
“Some from my father, of course, but—”
“Wait! Your father was but an employee in a shop, or so I have always been told.”
“To begin with, yes. The owner went bankrupt, my father bought him out, shillings on the pound, and so he got his start. My mother was no fool. She knew he was a clever man, and an ambitious one, when she ran away with him. It wasn’t for his beauty she admired him, I can tell you.”
“But I thought that that was exactly why—”
Mr. Fredericks paused and pulled a locket out of his pocket. He opened it to reveal two miniature portraits. “This,” he said, pointing to the lady, “is my mother as a young woman. The other is my father.”
“Oh! My! Yes, yes, I see what you mean. Presumably there must have been some other quality that attracted her.”
“He was a great businessman, my father. By the time he died he owned a string of shops and was in negotiations to purchase a ship-building company. And I have . . .” Here he paused and looked down modestly. “I have rather built on his successes. I now own most of his original businesses, several carpet and cloth looming manufactories, three banks, a sizeable fleet of ships, several sail makers, two lumberyards, and a button factory.”
“A—a button factory?” was all I could think of to say. “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”
“Yes, clothing and textiles—they’re all going to be made in factories in the future. That’s the way to make clothing affordable. And a button factory speeds the process.”
“Really? How . . . how extraordinary.”
“Yes, and I have been neglecting business all summer, hanging about up here on what might as well be the back side of the moon (tho’ I have made some progress towards establishing a cotton mill in York, and Vincy and I have done a little tea trading as well) because, well, because I wanted to see what would happen to you.”
“To me?”
“Yes. I assumed you would marry Boring, of course, but if you didn’t, well . . .”
“Yes?”
Here Mr. Fredericks became incoherent again. “It’s only that if you were to, you know, do me the honor and so on, it might spur old Bumbershook on a bit, you see.”
“What?” I demanded, my head whirling.
He regarded me warily. “Now don’t get upset again, will you? It’s just that if you married into money, especially money on a rather impressive scale, that would be a bit of an inducement for Bumbershook to marry your mother and adopt little Alexander, you see? Not that he needs an inducement, exactly, but it wouldn’t occasion quite so much comment in society, if you understand me. And I am not such