What a Spinster Wants - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,29

portion of my dowry to be returned to my family, given the lack of advantage that would be had from its investment now.”

Graham frowned at the use of the word investment. A dowry was designed to be an inducement to a prospective suitor, it was true, but it was intended to be used in maintaining the lifestyle worthy of a gentleman’s daughter when she left his house for that of her husband. Some fathers even put aside additional portions specifically for their daughter’s use, though it wasn’t particularly common.

It certainly wasn’t meant to be a wager or a bribe, or something used to value a woman.

“There wasn’t much to the dowry to begin with,” Lady Edith muttered then, a harsher edge coming through the words. “Nothing about my marriage to Archie ever made sense to me, and those who arranged it refused to tell me a thing.”

Those who…

He stared at Lady Edith openly, his head spinning. What the hell had happened to her prior to her marriage that had brought her into all of this, anyway? Who had sold her off to a worthless husband? What sort of deal had been struck if Sir Archibald hadn’t been a fortune hunter? Unless the man had only been looking for breeding in his bride, he could see nothing beneficial in a match that was so far from one of love.

Lady Edith stopped speaking, her gaze on the small table before her, eyes unfocused. The color had yet to return to her cheeks, though she didn’t seem to be near to swooning or ill. Simply lost.

So very lost.

A small corner of his heart cracked at seeing it, and he shoved a bite of food into his mouth to get over the surprising pang in his chest. He was growing sentimental over a stranger’s story, and without pertinent facts to fill the tale out properly. A scheming man had taken advantage of a young woman without influence. It was the same sad story heard in ballrooms all over England.

Nothing unusual, distasteful though it was.

“Edith,” Henshaw prodded more gently than Graham would have managed. “Sir Reginald.”

She blinked and looked up, not at Henshaw, but at Graham, and he felt that pang in his chest streak down the backs of his legs, sending bolts of lightning into his heels.

“Sir Reginald has taken a personal interest in his cousin’s widow,” she told the group. “Very personal.”

The flatness of her tone left no room for misinterpretation and brought with it a severity that had Graham setting his plate aside as the fire of indignation began to curl in his fingers.

“No!” Miss Wright gasped, eyes wide.

Lady Edith gave no indication she heard her friend. “He has no interest in wedding me, only bedding me. He calls weekly to remind me of his offer and to make his point clear. Accept him, and I will be free from my poverty and the suspicion of Society. Refuse, and he will make everything far worse.”

“Vague threat,” Vale growled, something in his hand cracking as it formed a fist to one side. “Sounds ominous but has no teeth. What can he do beyond what you currently suffer?”

This brought Lady Edith’s eyes flicking to him. “I willna repeat the details he has shared with me on this topic, Cam, given there are ladies present. Think of the devil, and then do a quick jig further into hell, and ye might find a fair enough idea of the thing.”

“Let’s not,” Lady Ingram protested weakly, one hand at her stomach, her cheeks somehow paler than her friend’s. “Could he cast you out, for example?”

“He could,” Lady Edith confirmed with a nod. “And he most certainly would, without the meager pin money I am allotted. He claims to have more influence in Society than I can possibly imagine, though I have no way of confirming such a thing.” She shook her head, and her fingers began to wring together again, almost frantic in their agitation despite the apparent calm the rest of her held. “He will ruin me, of that there is no doubt. In his mind, agreeing to give myself to him is the only option.”

Mrs. Vale whimpered and turned her face into her husband’s hand, still lingering near her ear. Vale bent and kissed her head, whispering softly to her, before straightening. “So, you thought you’d take Society by storm first, eh?”

“Aye. If I could find myself protection, some kind of connection or security, I might find a way out of his clutches.” Lady Edith