look. ‘What need was there for a courtship? We settled matters in a few meetings and Lord Tinmore arranged for a special licence. When his man of business procured the licence for him, the vicar of his church married us in his parlour.’
‘You could have invited us,’ Genna chided.
Genna was hurt, as well, obviously.
Lorene swung around to her. ‘You would have tried to stop me.’
‘Yes. I would have done that.’ Genna spoke firmly.
The wind gusted and the windowpanes banged. Would Tess have tried to stop Lorene? She did not know.
The clouds that cast a pall on them parted and light peeked through.
They were saved. Lorene had saved them.
By sacrificing herself.
* * *
A mere two weeks later Tess Summerfield lounged on the bed in one of the many bedchambers of Tinmore Hall. This room had been given to Genna who stood behind an easel, facing the window. Lorene again paced nervously back and forth, which seemed to be her new habit.
‘It is a lovely house party, is it not?’ Lorene asked, looking hopefully at each of them.
‘Lovely!’ Tess agreed eagerly.
So much had changed so very quickly. Two days after Lorene announced her marriage, they moved out of the only home they’d ever known, taking with them no more than a trunk of belongings each. Now Lord Tinmore had invited several guests in a hastily arranged house party to introduce his new bride to his closest society friends. In another month or so they would travel to London for a whirlwind of dress fittings and hat shopping in order to show them off to best advantage when the Season began. Lorene’s marriage was still a shock, but Tess could not help but be excited about what lay ahead.
She was also deeply, deeply grateful to Lorene—as well as feeling guilty.
Genna was not grateful, however. She remained as surly as the day Lorene had told them her secret.
‘It is lovely, isn’t it, Genna?’ Tess, too, reeled from the loss of their home, but she was determined to show Lorene her support.
Genna threw her paintbrush into its jug of water and spun around. ‘I hate the house party. I hate everything about it.’
‘Genna!’ Tess scolded.
Lorene made a placating gesture. ‘It is all right. Let her speak her mind.’
Genna’s face flushed. ‘I cannot bear that you married that man—that old man—for money. His guests call you a fortune hunter and they are correct.’
‘That is enough, Genna!’ Tess cried. ‘Especially because Lorene did it for us.’
‘I did not ask for it.’ Genna turned to Lorene. ‘I would never have asked it of you. Ever.’
‘No one asked me.’ Lorene went to her and placed her hand on Genna’s arm. ‘Besides, the earl is a good man. Look what he has done for us already.’
He’d given them a new home at Tinmore Hall. He’d had them fitted for new dresses by the village seamstress. He was in the process of arranging dowries for her and for Genna and an allowance for Edmund whose regiment was somewhere on the Continent.
Tess sat up. ‘It was a brave sacrifice. Don’t you see that, Genna? We have a chance now. Lord Tinmore will provide us with respectable dowries. We’re going to have a London Season where we can meet many eligible young men.’
Mr Welton would be in London. He’d said he would be there for the Season. Tess wanted so much to tell him of her changed circumstances.
Lorene squeezed Genna’s arm. ‘You will be able to have a choice of young men. You won’t have to marry merely for a roof over your head and food in your mouth. You will be able to wait for a man you are able to truly esteem.’
‘You can make a love match.’ It was what Tess desired more than anything. That and to always be close to her sisters.
Lorene’s tone turned earnest. ‘I want you to have a love match, to have that sort of happiness.’
Tess was known as the practical sister. Sensible and resourceful. Would Lorene and Genna not be surprised to learn that she had a secret tendre for a man? To even think of him made her giddy with excitement.
Genna’s face contorted as she faced Lorene. ‘You married an ugly, smelly old man so that Tess, Edmund and I could marry for love. Bravo, Lorene. We’re supposed to be happy knowing that because of us you must share his bed.’
Lorene blanched and her voice deepened. ‘That part of it is not for you to speak of. Ever. That is my private affair and mine alone. Do you hear?’
‘What about your life, Lorene? What about your choices? Your love match?’ Genna’s voice turned shrill.
Lorene put a hand to her forehead. ‘I did make a choice. I chose to do this. For you. And Lord Tinmore has been good enough to provide you with this lovely room, with your paints and paper. He’s ordered us each a new wardrobe and soon he will take us all to London for even more finery—’
Genna broke in. ‘And what must you do in return, Lorene?’
Lorene glared at her. She straightened and turned towards the door. ‘I must go now. I must see that everything is in order for our guests. I expect you to behave properly in front of them, Genna.’
‘I know how to behave properly,’ Genna snapped, still recalcitrant. ‘Did Papa not teach us to never behave like our mother?’
Lorene shot her one more scathing—and, Tess thought—pained look and left the room.
Tess leaped off the bed. ‘Genna, how could you? That was terrible to say. About...about sharing Lord Tinmore’s bed.’ And about their mother.
Genna folded her arms across her chest. ‘Well, it is what we think about, is it not? What she must do for him? Because of us?’
Tess felt a pang of guilt.
She took it out on Genna, walking over to her and shaking her. ‘We cannot speak of it! It hurts her. You saw that.’
Genna pulled away, but looked chagrined.
Tess went on. ‘We must make the best of this, for her sake. She’s done us an enormous service at great sacrifice. She has given us a gift beyond measure. We are free to choose who we want to marry.’ She thought of Mr Welton. ‘We must not make her feel bad for it.’
‘Oh, very well.’ Genna turned back to her watercolour. ‘But what are we to say when we hear the guests speak of her marrying Lord Tinmore for his money? Are we to say, “Yes, that is it exactly. She married him for his money and his title. Just like our mother did our father”?’
That was another truth best left unspoken.
‘We pretend we do not hear anything.’ Tess spoke firmly. ‘We act as if Lorene’s marriage to Lord Tinmore is a love match and that we are delighted for them both.’
‘Hmmph. A love match between a beautiful young woman and a very old, smelly man.’ Genna stabbed at her painting. ‘And what do we say when they accuse us of exploiting Lord Tinmore, as well?’
‘Us?’ Tess blinked. ‘Has anyone said that?’
Genna shrugged. ‘Not to my face. Yet. So tell me what I ought to say when they do.’
Tess had not considered that possibility, but it made sense. In a way, she, Genna and Edmund stood to gain more from Lord Tinmore’s money than Lorene. His money would open possibilities for them, possibilities that filled Tess with joy.
Until guilt stabbed at her again. ‘We simply act grateful for everything he does for us, because we are grateful, are we not?’
Genna