“Sir Thomas is pleasant enough,” Lilah said. “I’d go so far as to say he’s the pleasantest specimen of our acquaintance in London. But, as you’ve said yourself, Dex, he’s a man of middling rank, middling fortune, and middling character. Surely you’d aspire to something greater in your quest to sell me off to the nobility?”
“I had higher hopes for you,” Dexter said, “but given that business with Lord Granville, you should count your blessings that Sir Thomas is willing to call on you.”
“Is it my fault that I caught Granville with his breeches round his ankles, rutting some whore?”
Thea set her cup down with a clatter. “Delilah! Mind your language.”
“Granville’s morals may not be your responsibility,” Dexter said, “but in wandering off on your own during that party to find him, you tarnished your reputation,” he said. “Given that you both returned looking disheveled, it’s no wonder the world believes you’d allowed him to anticipate the wedding night in a bid to snare his hand.”
“As if I’d be so foolish,” Lilah snorted. “He looked a mess because I’d slapped his face!”
“In London society, appearance is everything,” Dexter said. “Truth is irrelevant.”
“Then we should tear society down,” Lilah said.
Dexter sighed and shook his head.
“Your brother wants what’s best for you—for all of us,” Thea said. “If you understood that, you wouldn’t fight him at every turn. You know how hard it is for us to gain acceptance in society.”
“Why should we ingratiate ourselves?” Lilah asked. “They hate us, and they always will, for we have no titles.”
“Not at present,” Thea said. “But your brother has been recommended for a knighthood. He’s worked hard to better our fortunes, and the next step is to raise our position in society. He does it for us, Lilah. All you have to do is smile and be courteous. That’s not much to ask, is it?”
“It’s more than that,” Lilah said. “You want me to relinquish my freedom. Neither of you understands my feelings. You think my dream of becoming a writer is a whim to be cast aside when a man decides he wants to own me.”
“I do understand,” Dexter said. “But in order to get what we want, we must first take responsibility and demonstrate that we deserve it. It’s called growing up.”
“Demonstrate to who, Dexter?” Lilah asked. “To you? Must I gratify you before I’m permitted to be happy? Is that why you drove Devon out of the house?”
“Our brother is a grown man,” Dexter said. “He’s free to make his own choices.”
“Because he’s a man?”
“Society doesn’t frown upon a grown man lodging on his own.”
“And you were glad to see him go,” Lilah said. “A disfigured brother might risk your social standing.”
Dexter’s lips thinned, and his knuckles whitened as he curled his fingers round his teacup. Thea frowned at Lilah and shook her head in warning.
“Our brother is welcome here,” he said. “He’s a part of our family.”
“Then what about Daisy?” Lilah asked.
The teacup shattered, and brown liquid splashed over Dexter’s breeches. Thea leapt to her feet and let out a shriek.
“Jane! Jane! Come quickly, there’s been an accident! The master’s spilled his tea!”
Dexter lowered his gaze to his soaking breeches. Liquid dripped off his lap, but he barely reacted.
Did nothing rattle him?
A maid rushed into the parlor, brandishing a cloth.
“Jane, help the master,” Thea said.
Dexter raised his hand. “No, I’ll deal with it.” He fixed his gaze on Lilah. “And then, I’ll deal with you.”
He rose and exited the room.
“Jane, dear, could you clear up the mess, then bring in a fresh pot of tea?” Thea asked. “And some of Mrs. Brown’s fruitcake, I think.
The maid bobbed a curtsey and set about picking up the shards of porcelain. After she left, Thea took Lilah’s hand.
“You shouldn’t vex your brother, so,” she said. “You know he doesn’t like to speak of Daisy.”
“Why not?” Lilah asked. “Dex bores me to tears with lectures on how we must remain united as a family. Why, then, are there five of us, but one has been exiled into obscurity, and the other cannot bear to live here?”
“It’s not that simple,” Thea said. “Dexter may be harsh, but he has his reasons. While you played with dolls, he devoted his life to raising our fortunes. He blames himself for what happened to Daisy. But it’s done, and there’s no sense in dwelling on it. Not when Dexter’s worked so hard to secure our future. He’s not being unreasonable in expecting you to play your part.”
“You even sound like him, Thea,” Lilah said. “Can you not think for yourself?”
“I speak the truth,” Thea replied.
“Then why don’t you subject yourself to a Season?”
“I’m twenty-seven,” Thea said. “I can best serve our cause by chaperoning you. You’re the one with the best chance of securing a good match.”
“And you consider Sir Thomas a good match?”
“He’s very handsome,” Thea said. “Imagine what it would be like to be on his arm at a ball!” She hesitated and lowered her gaze. For a moment, Lilah thought she saw disappointment in her sister’s eyes—disappointment that the elevation of their fortunes had come too late for her to hope for anything other than a position as a chaperone—or a spinster aunt.
Then she looked up again and smiled. “He possesses a rare combination—a title, affability, and an interest in commerce. And he seems to like you a great deal, Delilah.”
“We share the same views on society, that’s all,” Lilah said. “But despite what he says about reforming the aristocracy, he lacks the character to lead. He hangs on to Dex’s coat-tails even more than you.”
Thea rolled her eyes. “Why must you needle everyone you disagree with, Delilah? We cannot all be leaders. If Sir Thomas chooses to follow where others direct, then he’d make the perfect husband for a headstrong woman who wishes to control her destiny.”
Lilah shook her head. “You mean…”
“I mean,” Dorothea said, lowering her voice, “that if you want to pursue a career as a writer, while also satisfying our brother, then marriage to Sir Thomas may be the most effective means of achieving that. While you still have choices left open to you, Delilah, you must choose wisely. And that choice may be to accept his courtship.”
“Assuming Sir Thomas would want to court a commoner.”
“He’s one of the few men of society to whom birth is not everything,” Thea said. “But if you wish to secure him, you should refrain from cursing, at least until after you’ve signed the marriage register when the poor man has gone beyond the point of no return.”
“I have no intention of securing anyone,” Lilah said. “A man should want me for what I am, not what he wishes me to be.”
Dorothea laughed. “In that, I agree with you. You’ll need a husband prepared to put up with your rudeness.”