know not his reasoning unless he desires the Haloran line to continue through him.”
Oh, how I wish the new earl was already married, Shalan admitted, but only to herself. Readily understanding that with the inheritance of the great manse and its vast fortune, it behooved the man to take a wife, the understanding did not help Shalan’s disquiet. Why did she have to be in the competition? ‘Because you are, unfortunately, one of the few maids left in this area’ was her answer to herself. Why didn’t the bumble head find a suitable mate in London? There were undoubtedly scores of women that would relish becoming a countess, but mayhap the earl was old or repulsive, and no amount of riches could compensate for revulsion.
She was certainly not going to get out of this, so Shalan gave in and stayed her opinions with her usually understanding father. No matter what arguments she used, he would do with her as he willed, and she would be taken and made known to the man, inspected, as if she were a leg of lamb or perhaps poultry hanging in the market place. As the new Earl of Haloran, and since he was unmarried, he would make acquaintance with all the eligible young ladies in the region and decide which he considered an appropriate candidate for a wife.
Shalan’s papa had told her many years before that he would not wed her to someone not of her choosing, but since so much had changed, most importantly the death of her mother, she now had her doubts if he would keep that promise. Oh, why did her mother have to leave her? Her mother could influence her father, but alas, Shalan could only plead.
He had promised her! But did the avowal still stand? He had alluded to the fact, but did not renew the promise. There had to be a reason why her father was so adamant that she accompany him to Haloran Hall. And she began to speculate on his reasoning.
Shalan had noticed lately that her father had cut back on his trips into London, and it had been forever since she’d had any new frocks. Her papa used to tell her quite often to call in the dressmaker, but he hadn’t for an age, it seemed. Was he perhaps in a bad way financially? Was that the reason he insisted she accompany him? With the hope the earl might choose her as a wife and her papa would be recompensed?
“When are we to leave for this sham masquerading as a welcoming visit?” she asked with a sigh, dejection apparent in her voice. Her head was down, her chin nearly resting on her chest. With her arms crossed, one hand was running up and down the sleeve of her sprig green morning dress.
“We depart early on the morn. I have given the servants orders to make ready for our journey. Cheer up, my lamb. Papa will not lead you to the slaughter. A young lady has the prerogative of turning down a suitor, you know, albeit the Earl of Haloran. I fear you would never live it down if that were the case, though.” And she recognized that he was warning her that if the earl did indeed choose to pursue her, she would be ill advised to repudiate his offer.
Her father left his chair and came to her. Placing his arm around her, his index finger crooked underneath her chin, he tilted her face up to look at him. “Don’t be so glum, dear one. With the countenance you are wearing, you look as if you were being led to the holding pens along with all the other sheep that are being prepared for slaughter.”
Turning away from him, she stated in an undertone, “That’s exactly how I feel.” Then thanked the good Lord that her papa was hard of hearing.
Shalan dolefully made her way out of the great hall, barely dragging herself up the winding stone stairs and down the long corridor into her own chambers. Not one to normally allow herself to drown in self-pity, she attempted to cheer herself, trying her utmost to look on the bright side. This might not be such a catastrophic happenstance after all. Perhaps this particular gentleman would find her unappealing. Others had. And she had celebrated each time they had chosen another as it seemed that most of them were much older than she, with bad breath, or had lost a wife and were searching for a younger one. Truth be known, Shalan was not acquainted with any gentlemen below the age of forty who were looking to be wed. And she detested the reprehensible custom of being put on display for every bachelor within the boundaries of Northumberland, and some even further afield.
“Step right up, my lords, and inspect the merchandise… if you see something of interest…”
Standing in front of the cheval glass, she studied her reflection, searching for the flaws the Earl of Haloran would most certainly notice. Hair of long black ringlets adorned her head, which was free of any restraint at that particular time. Down her eyes traveled to the light blue of her eyes fringed in black lashes that were dreadfully long. She had always thought the light blue of her eyes was the only feature she had inherited from her father. Other than the color of her eyes, she was the image of her mother.
Her eyebrows arched provocatively, and the ordinary nose, not pert nor long nor short, was unremarkable. Her lips were full, but not overly so, well defined, and she had been envied more than once by her friends who had told her they only wished they possessed her well shaped lips. Theirs was much too thin, they’d point out. To Shalan, she thought them frivolous. What difference did it make how one’s mouth was shaped? The mouth was for taking sustenance, and conversing, was it not? The kisses she had seen exchanged were only a meeting of the lips to show affection. What difference could the shape of those lips possibly make?
Much to her delight, her complexion was darker than the milk white fashion of the day due to the fact that her grandmother had come to England from Spain, and that fault had saved her many times. No, she did not possess the fair, translucent complexion of the young ladies of her acquaintance, and surely this Lord Haloran would not see a facet in her that would appeal to him. Her darker complexion, considered a fault, had forestalled many a suitor and she giggled as she realized that fact suited her very well.
Why did women have to go through this unseemly degradation? This parading in front of men, jockeying for position in a man’s favor, especially those who were wealthy and titled? To Shalan, it was ignorant, to pit herself up against others, waiting to see if she was to be the one chosen for a man’s mate. She detested the ritual, although she was aware that many young ladies took an immense delight in the flirtations, and decided that she would not be one of those shallow women whose main goal in life was to marry. She absolutely would not take part in it. If she had to be a mouse, she’d be a mouse. Shalan would much rather spend her life alone than married to some awful man she could not possibly love, and honestly could never love her. And to Shalan, love was paramount to outward appearance, abilities, and even personalities. She had witnessed the love between her mother and father, and had long since decided she would have no less. If she could not, she’d live her life as a spinster. Not as yet having met a man who piqued her interest in the slightest, the life of a spinster greatly appealed to her. To live perpetually at Kiley’s Keep, pursuing her knowledge, was perfectly fine with her. She had no need to marry.
A knock at her door had her scurrying to open it. A downstairs maid, Mazie, stood waiting and then curtseyed, handing her a folded note. She thanked the girl, and wondered where her own Addie was, and why she was not preparing her attire for the trip she was to undertake on the morrow.
Opening the single sheet of paper, she walked closer to the window, as it was a cloudy day, and very little light shone into the room. A quick perusal had her smiling and nearly jumping for joy. Oh, thank the good Lord! The note was from her father and the despicable trip had been postponed. It seemed Lord Haloran had been called away quite suddenly, but when he returned there was to be a social gathering at Haloran Hall, and he would meet all of his neighbors at that time. Meaning, of course, those with marriageable age daughters, Shalan figured.
No better news could have been forthcoming, and being the young girl that she was, she twirled around inside the room. She would not be on display, but would be among several other girls of marriageable age when she met the Earl of Haloran. And she would not stand out, but become anonymous in the midst of them. Compared to the others, she would be found wanting. Lady Kelsie was very beautiful, well sought after, as was Lady Anne, among others. They would most certainly command the lord’s attention and she could be herself and not have to worry about pleasing her papa or any old earl. Oh! This was indeed wonderful news and on a whim, she kissed the note with a loud “mmuah” and tossed it onto her bed.
Shalan