Romancing Her Rival - Joanna Barker Page 0,36
a living he was supposed to inherit. Now she spent long days helping her husband maintain ships in the Royal Navy, a life Daphne had never imagined for her friend.
Marah gave a sharp shake of her head. “Nonsense. Life is hard, no matter our circumstances. You needn’t belittle your own troubles because of mine. Besides”—Marah narrowed her eyes at Daphne—“you haven’t yet told me what is really bothering you. And I would wager a handkerchief full of Chelsea buns that it has something to do with Mr. Everard.”
Daphne offered a slight smile at the mention of the Chelsea buns, but it soon faded. “I suppose it does, a very little. My aunt…” She took a deep breath. “My aunt is leaving Cheriton to travel, and she has asked me to go with her.”
“Travel?” Marah’s eyebrows went up. “Travel where?”
“Anywhere and everywhere, it seems.” Daphne shook her head. “She only asked me this morning, and I admit I am a bit taken aback at the prospect.”
“You hardly like to travel from Kent to London.” Her friend gave a little smile. “I can see why such an idea might not immediately appeal to you.”
“Precisely.” This was why Daphne had needed to speak to Marah. “You know me better than nearly anyone, Marah. What should I do?”
Marah sipped her tea, her eyes thoughtful. “Daphne, what will you do if you say no?”
“Return to London, I suppose.” But the thought did not bring much enthusiasm. Back to Mother.
“And what of Mr. Everard?”
Daphne straightened. “What of him?”
Marah laughed. “Daphne, the man was looking at you like you were a first-rate ship fresh from the dockyard. You cannot tell me he has no bearing in your decision.”
“It is a bit complicated.” Daphne gripped the handle of her teacup a little too tightly.
“Do you like him?”
She should have expected Marah’s blunt question. Her friend had never been one to beat around the bush. But Daphne hesitated, staring down at her tea. “Of course I do. Even with everything that has happened, we’ve become friends again. He is hard working and amiable and honest.”
“And handsome?”
“Marah!”
Marah only grinned. “Married women can see just as well as unmarried ones.”
Daphne’s cheeks heated. “Yes, he is handsome. I can admit to that.”
“And do you think you could be more than friends?”
“I—” Daphne shook her head. “I honestly do not know. He makes me feel—well, I hardly know how to describe it. When I’m with him, he somehow calms me and awakens me all at once.”
Marah sat quietly a moment, then set down her teacup. “That sounds very much like love, though I cannot say for certain. You really ought to write Phoebe about this. She knows everything about love at the moment. Or perhaps Lavinia. I daresay either of their opinions would be more useful than mine.”
“But I want your opinion.”
Marah gave a short laugh. “Even though I’m the least romantic of the group? Even though—” Her eyes dropped to the bracelet on Daphne’s wrist, and her voice broke off. But Daphne could guess what she was going to say. Even though I did not marry for love, as we all promised. It had never been something they had spoken of as friends, but all of them had suspected Marah’s marriage was not born of true affection. She’d married so quickly after her father’s death, and to a man they’d never heard of.
“I think,” Marah finally said, “that you are the only one who can make this choice. But”—she hesitated—“I will say this once, and you cannot tell the other girls that I did.”
Daphne furrowed her brow. “Yes?”
Marah’s expression softened and turned wistful. “Love does not come along every day, Daphne. Not real, lasting love, in any case. Try to remember that.”
Daphne had never heard anything quite so… idealistic from Marah. She was ever pragmatic. But that only made her words more powerful.
“I will try to remember,” Daphne said softly. “And I hope you will too.”
Marah squeezed her hand, her eyes glistening for a moment before she cleared her throat and turned away. “Now, tell me, have you heard anything recently from Isabel? In the last letter I had from her, she recounted how she upended an entire dinner party when she mentioned that women ought to have the right to vote.”
Daphne laughed, the heaviness of their conversation easing. As they spoke of their friends and the memories they shared, she could not help but be comforted. No matter what course she chose, she would always have those who cared for her.