THE MARRIAGE PLOT Ophelia Elliot has delayed marriage long enough. Now, for the sake of her future, she must choose between three impatient suitors. But she’s determined to use only the most rational of methods to make her decision. And when her dear friend, Sidney Mason, offers to help, how can the discerning debutante resist? Besides, spending time with him is no hardship—his dashing looks and irresistible laughter have delighted her for years. Not that Sidney is a suitable prospect. As a member of Parliament, he’s already married to the state. No matter how chivalrous his attentions, falling in love with him would be most unreasonable . . . The fact is, Sidney finds Ophelia infuriatingly stubborn—and yet there is no other woman for him. Convincing her that she must marry for love— his love—will be a formidable challenge. So he concocts a clever strategy to expose her suitors’ true natures—and show the strong-willed beauty that when it comes to marriage, it is imperative that she follow her heart—straight into his strong and loving arms . . . “Rachael Miles’ knowledge of the time period she writes about adds a depth of authenticity that enriches every page.” —Jodi Thomas, New York Times bestselling author
Release date:
May 30, 2017
Publisher:
Zebra Books
Print pages:
113
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“But with such a momentous decision as marriage, I must choose wisely.” Ophelia Gardiner paced the drawing room, from the window to the door and then back again. With each circuit, she avoided the long legs of her sixteen-year-old brother, Thomas Gardiner, Lord Wilmot. “Surely you both understand that.”
“Of course we do. But you have been hesitating, and we wish to know your reasons.” Judith Alderson, Ophelia’s cousin, watched as Ophelia paced the room. “Once you narrowed the field to three suitors, we expected a decision but that was months ago.”
“Judith’s right, as usual.” Tom shifted his legs out of Ophelia’s path. “It’s almost as if you are waiting for them to lose interest and find other prospects.”
“I had hoped…” Ophelia paused, searching for the right words. “I wished…” She began again but stopped once more. To avoid the concerned looks of her brother and sister, she turned her face to the window. Her words hung in the silence of the drawing room.
After several seconds, Judith spoke, hesitantly.
“Why don’t you gather your thoughts for a few minutes, while I set Tom to reviewing the documents my father sent to town? I’ve been married for over a year, yet I am still Father’s courier whenever I come to town.” Judith removed a thick stack of documents from a leather portfolio. Motioning for Tom to sit at the desk, she sorted the papers into tidy stacks.
Tom made a show of dragging himself from his chair to the desk. With his thumb, Tom measured the thickness of the first document Judith set before him, then with an exaggerated sigh, he began to read the pages sent him by his guardian.
Judith joined Ophelia at the window.
“Is it merely a pretty day? Or are you wishing to escape through the window?” Judith whispered, twining her arm through Ophelia’s. “The square is crowded enough. We might not find you for days.”
Ophelia pointed toward the park entrance in the far distance. “I’ve called for breakfast to be served when Kate and Ariel return with Aidan. I was watching for them. But yes, escape sounds very appealing. Unfortunately, I have nowhere to go and no means to go there. Unlike Tom, neither I nor my sisters can access our funds until we turn twenty-five.”
“Is that your plan, to make yourself a spinster and live on your inheritance?”
“No, my portion amounts to less than twenty pounds a year, not enough to live on alone.” Ophelia fell silent once more, indecision stifling her voice.
“But you’ve considered it.”
“I’ve considered every possible option and permutation. In every assessment, marriage is my best choice.”
“Then what is the sticking point?”
Ophelia sighed. “Each of my suitors offers a very different sort of life, and I can’t decide between them.”
“There is something else to consider.” Judith looked over her shoulder at Tom to see he was absorbed in his work. “It’s the real reason I came to town. I didn’t trust a letter.”
“You make whatever it is sound quite nefarious.” Ophelia was puzzled; Judith was never so dramatic.
“Nefarious might be a good word for it.” Judith squeezed Ophelia’s elbow. “But you must keep my suspicions a secret. No one can know, not your Aunt Millicent, not even my own brothers.”
“I’ve never revealed any of our secrets.”
“Your future happiness depends on it.” With another look at Tom, Judith spoke quietly but firmly. “With my marriage, the duke realized the financial benefits of having a daughter. His brokering of my marriage has enriched the estates. I’m afraid he has begun to think of how he can capitalize on your and your sisters’ marriages.”
“Broker. Capitalize. Can the duke possibly be so mercenary as to care about the marriages of we three girls?”
“Can be and is.”
Ophelia patted Judith’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Aunt Millicent is adamant that we choose our own futures, and she has promised us as long as we need to decide. In addition, our father’s will was quite specific: the duke rears Tom, but Aunt Millicent rears we girls.”
“Ophelia, a duke does as he wishes. The will indicates only that Millicent should rear you. It doesn’t say where, and it certainly doesn’t say in her house in London. Father could simply insist that Millicent keep you girls under his roof, and, as duke, he has that power.”
“She’d never agree to that.” Ophelia objected, then grew suspicious. “How do you know what the will says?”
“I found it on Father’s desk in a pile of papers to be filed. Besides, I know how he thinks.” Judith glanced once more at Tom. “Father arrives on Friday. If you wish to make your own decision, do it before then. In fact, do it, get your aunt’s blessing, and announce your decision somewhere very public—somewhere that would make him feel he had more to lose than gain by opposing you. Leave him only the negotiation, not the choice of the man.”
Ophelia suddenly felt a bone-deep regret, realizing—too late—why she had heard so little of Judith since her marriage. “Are you not happy in your marriage?” she whispered.
Judith paused. Her voice, when she spoke, was filled with sadness. “My brother Aaron has made a career of dissipation, but I didn’t learn how much his debts had drained the estate accounts until after my marriage. Father had two requirements for my husband, and Alderson met them both.”
“Which were?” Ophelia whispered.
“Ready cash and the means to make more of it,” Judith said matter-of-factly. “Alderson wanted the prestige of an alliance with a duke. But after a year of seeing his hard-won profits go to feed Aaron’s vices, Alderson clearly regrets the bargain, although he is too polite to say it.” Judith’s tone shifted to a more playful one, but the undertone of sadness remained. “Someday after Father is gone, I will make myself thoroughly disreputable. I’ll send anonymous letters to the London Times detailing every delectable detail, until the scandal reaches such a pitch that I have no choice but to retire in disgrace to the continent—if there is a continent left after Boney.”
“Judith, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am serious, Phee, with all my heart. Like you, I have no means to support myself. So, I wait. Alderson is forty years my senior, so the odds that I will outlive him are good. Until then, I make myself valuable: a useful secretary to Alderson, and a trusted courier to Father.”
“What would you do?”
“If Alderson were dead, and I we. . .
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