Determined not to let him see that she was hurt, Mary said briskly, “I wish you a pleasant journey, Sir Royce. If the rest of you will excuse me, I believe I will go upstairs now. It has been a rather tiring day.”
Everyone agreed and began moving toward the door. Mary was careful not to glance at Royce as she made her way out of the room. Positioning herself between Lily and Camellia, she strode along the hall and up the stairs, never looking back.
Though Mary tried her best to pretend that she did not notice it, she found Willowmere quite empty without Royce. She told herself she might as well become accustomed to it. After all, it would be her lot in life once Royce gave up and accepted that she was not going to marry him. Better to get used to it now, when there was something going on—Willowmere was all abuzz with the news that Rose was engaged to Sam Treadwell.
“Sam asked me again last night, ever so sweetly,” Rose told her sisters the next day as they clustered about her in her bedroom. “He said I was the only one who mattered, and that he had asked Cousin Oliver for my hand only because he wanted to make sure he did everything absolutely right. I couldn’t stay mad at him. I told him yes. Look, he got me a ring. He says he’s had it for months.”#p#分页标题#e#
“What did Stewkesbury say to him? Did he interrogate him about his prospects and whether he could take care of you?” Lily asked.
“Yes! But Sam apparently convinced Stewkesbury that he could support me even if his father cast him off for marrying against his wishes—though he said that he could see that Stewkesbury was excessively annoyed at that thought! Sam has saved his money for years, and he wants to start a drayage company. Coal has been discovered farther west, and he intends to haul it out. The earl seemed quite impressed with his steadiness and business sense. And—you will not believe this—Cousin Oliver is even giving me a dowry!”
“A dowry? How medieval,” exclaimed Camellia.
“Apparently not in the circles in which we now live. Cousin Oliver explained it to me himself. He said it was only fair, as our grandfather had cut Mama out of his will. The banns will be read this Sunday and next, and after that we can be married. It’s terribly hasty, I know, and I shall have to wear one of the dresses Cousin Charlotte had made for us. But Sam wants to get back to the United States. And I can’t wait to marry him!”
“Who can blame you?” Mary asked, going to her sister and putting her arm around her.
“But how can you leave us?” Lily wailed. “We’ll miss you so much! Do you really want to go back?”
“Yes. Oh yes, I do. I miss home—the way it looks, the way it feels. Everything is so formal here; I hate having all the servants hovering around, doing everything for me.”
“Oh!” Lily threw up her arms and dropped back onto the bed. “I think it’s absolutely wonderful! All the clothes and the parties we’re going to have.” She looked around at her sisters. “All right, I know. I am the only one.”
“No, I like it here, too,” Camellia said, surprising all of them. “I mean, the people are awfully odd sometimes, and I hate our lessons with Miss Dalrymple. But those will end eventually. I love riding; I love the horses. Vivian wants me to teach her how to shoot, and Fitz has said we’re going to set up targets. I can practice with him. He says he’ll teach me archery as well. And croquet.” She shrugged. “I like Fitz and Charlotte and Royce and Vivian. I think I even like Cousin Oliver.”
Mary nodded. She liked it here too, more than she had ever expected to—if only there weren’t that odd, empty feeling when Royce was not around. She smiled and reached out to hug Rose. “We will miss you, but we want you to be happy.”
“I will be. I promise you I will be.”
“You must write us at least once a week and tell us everything,” Lily said, jumping off the bed and going to put her arms around her sisters.
Camellia joined them, and for a long moment they clung together, poignantly aware of the great change that loomed before them. Then, with a little sniffle here and there, they broke apart, and the conversation returned to the question of what they would wear to the wedding.
Only slightly less important than the upcoming nuptials was the prospect of Lady Sabrina’s ball three days hence, and the sisters passed many a pleasant hour planning their wardrobes and hairstyles for the first major social event of their lives. The evening gowns Charlotte had brought were far more elegant than any dresses they had ever owned, but Lady Vivian decreed that, while they were perfectly fine for a county assembly or some other such country dance, something more refined was needed for Lady Sabrina’s ball.