Читать книгу The Reluctant Bride - Meg Alexander - Страница 9

For a few moments India was too stunned to speak. Then she found her voice and began to smile.

“Uncle, I believe you mean to punish us for our rudeness to Lord Isham. You have hit upon the very thing to frighten us. What a fate for any girl! It is a dreadful prospect, even if you mean only to tease.”

Still smiling she looked up at her uncle, but saw no answering amusement in his face.

“India, I do not tease. His lordship has made a serious offer, and I must insist that you treat it as such.”

India stared at him in disbelief. “You cannot mean it! If this is Lord Isham’s idea of a joke it is in the worst of taste. Hasn’t he done enough to harm our family? Must he indulge in mockery too? I hope that you ordered him from the house.”

“I did no such thing. This is no joke. I am surprised at you, my dear, though I will make allowance for the shock. Your manner towards Lord Isham left much to be desired. I had not expected such a want of courtesy from any of my family.”

“A want of courtesy?” India cried wildly. “That man is our enemy. Would you have us fawn upon him?”

“You forget yourself, I fear. Must I remind you yet again that Isham did not force your father to sit at the tables with him? I am disappointed in you. Reason is needed here, not an exhibition of ill-temper.”

His tone was severe, but India was too distraught to heed his displeasure.

“You can’t believe that he is serious,” she pleaded. “I have never heard of such an offer. Are you saying that Isham has no preference? That either of us will do? It is insulting. Forgive me if I question his motives.”

“India, you are not a child. The offer is unusual, certainly, but Isham needs an heir. Should aught happen to him the title goes to his half-brother, and Henry Salton is scarce fit…” He left the sentence hanging in the air.

India struggled to regain some semblance of composure.

“So Isham needs an heir? That I can accept, but why offer for Letty or myself? All the matchmaking mamas in London have been hanging out for him for years. He might take his choice of a dozen girls.”

“I am sorry to see that you will believe no good of him. Perhaps you might consider that Isham has a conscience. He is well aware of your present circumstances.”

“Then this offer is an act of charity? A sop for his guilt? What poor creatures he must think us! I for one will have none of it. He may peddle his offer elsewhere…”

“This is foolish talk. You think only of your own pride. What of your mama and Letty?”

India glanced at her sister and was stricken. Letty seemed on the verge of collapse, but she struggled to speak.

“Uncle is right,” she whispered. “If his lordship’s intentions are honourable we must not sneer at him.”

“That’s right, my dear.” Sir James gave the younger girl an approving glance. “You should listen to what I have to say before you reject this offer out of hand. Isham is prepared to be generous. He will settle the Grange upon his bride. Your mama may return there with a handsome allowance to enable her to live in comfort. Your own portions will be restored, though much enhanced, and the future Lady Isham will be the recipient of several other liberal settlements.”

“He’s trying to buy us!” India cried indignantly. “Mama will not allow it.”

“Please try for a little conduct, India, and do not get upon your high ropes. I intend to speak to your mama when she is a little restored. In the meantime I shall be obliged if you will restrain your comments. As Letty has pointed out it is quite wrong to censure a man who is trying to make amends for circumstances which are not his fault.”

India hung her head. “I’ve been quick to judge,” she admitted. “But this offer seems so casual. It would appear that any woman will do.”

“That is not so, as you yourself have admitted. Isham must be all of thirty-five. He might have chosen a bride at any time these past fifteen years.”

With all her heart India wished that he had done so, but she would not antagonise her uncle further.

“So what is to happen now?” she asked.

“Isham is staying at the Grange. He will return tomorrow for your answer.”

“So soon?” Letty cried in a faint voice. “Will he not give us more time to consider?”

“Apparently not. My dears, I must leave you now, but I shall visit you again this evening. By then your mama may be feeling better. We shall speak further on this matter.”

All thoughts of visiting Hester had vanished from India’s mind. Her manner was abstracted as she took leave of her uncle. Then she sat in silence for a time. Letty’s scared voice recalled her to the present.

“India, what are we to do?” The great blue eyes were wide with apprehension.

“Why nothing, dearest. We must not worry. Mama will be as shocked as we are. She won’t consider such a proposition.”

India was wrong. She entered her mother’s room that evening to find her parent closeted with Sir James.

More animated than she had been for months, Isabel Rushford greeted her daughters with a radiant smile.

“Now, my dears, is this not a piece of great good fortune? It is all that I had hoped for you. What a match! Even in London I had not thought to aim so high.” She reached out her hands towards her girls. “Now which of you is it to be? You must have spoken of it whilst I slept.”

“We have spoken of naught else.” India stared at her mother in amazement. “Mama, pray do not set your heart upon this scheme. It is sheer folly. What do we know of Isham, apart from the fact that he has ruined our family?”

She watched in dismay as her mother’s smile disappeared.

“Isham did not ruin us,” the older woman said sharply. “That was your father’s doing. Oh, I know that to you he was a god.” She gave a bitter laugh. “In your eyes he could do no wrong, but now you know the truth of it. Folly, you say? His was the folly. As to Isham’s offer, your uncle welcomes it, and so do I. Will you set your opinion above our own?”

India was silent, but her mother was not finished.

“You are become very high in the instep, Miss, if his lordship is not good enough for you. As I recall you had not offers enough for you to pick and choose…”

It was a cruel gibe and the taunt stung. India bit her lip and turned her head away.

“Isabel, my dear, let us not lose our tempers,” Sir James said mildly. “Your girls do not know the way of the world as we do and this offer has come as a shock to them. They are entitled to know something of Lord Isham’s background before any decision is reached.”

Letty smiled at him. Though terrified at the prospect of becoming Isham’s bride, she dreaded further attacks upon her sister. “Uncle James, I wish you will tell us more,” she said. “We know so little about his lordship.”

Isabel Rushford intervened before Sir James could speak. Now she tossed her head. “Very well then, you foolish creatures. Lord Isham’s background is impeccable. His is one of the oldest families in the country. You know of his wealth, of course?”

“We do, and we also know of his opera-dancer!” India was moved to open rebellion, and this rash statement brought a shriek of horror from her mother.

“India! Such indelicacy, and before your uncle too!”

“Uncle knows that I am not a child. He told me so this morning.”

“That may be so, but for an unmarried girl to discuss such things! I declare, I am shocked beyond belief!”

“But not by Isham’s proposition, Mother?” India plunged on recklessly. She was already in deep disgrace, but now she was fighting for survival, either for herself or Letty. She recognised the stubborn look about her mother’s mouth. With all the obstinacy of the weak, Mrs Rushford intended to have her way at any cost. More often than not it was the prelude to hysterics.

Letty had seen the danger too, but before she could speak the bitter tirade continued.

“This is a proposal, not a proposition. Let me assure you that there is a difference. Since you are so worldly-wise I am surprised that you do not know it.”

“Mama, have you ever met Lord Isham?” Letty ventured timidly.

Isabel looked at her younger daughter and saw a ray of hope. Letty was always more amenable than her sister.

“Why yes, my love,” she said more quietly. “I met him once. Naturally, he was all courtesy…”

Then you must have caught him on a good day, India thought to herself. Most probably he had just succeeded in separating another unfortunate from his worldly goods.

“I wonder that he has never married,” Letty continued in artless tones. “Especially as he has so much to offer.”

India gave her sister a sideways look. Letty detested confrontation. She preferred to argue in a more subtle way. Sometimes it worked, but on this occasion India felt that both she and Letty were fighting a losing battle.

Sir James bestowed a glance of approval upon his younger niece. “I doubt if he had the opportunity, my dear. He was with Wellington from the start, you know, and has spent much time abroad.”

“Was that not after Barbara…?” Isabel looked at her brother-in-law, saw the slight shake of his head, and stopped in mid-sentence.

“Isham was wounded at Talavera,” Sir James continued hastily. “His injuries were such that he was forced to return to England.”

“He must be a brave man,” Letty murmured.

Isabel beamed at her. “My dear child, that is so. Does this mean that you will accept him?”

Letty was startled. She had not intended her words to convey such a meaning.

The tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh, no!” she cried. “I can’t. If I can’t have Oliver I shall never marry.”

Her words brought on the threatened attack of hysterics. Isabel Rushford threw herself back against her pillows, tore off her cap and gave vent to her feelings of persecution. Hiccuping sobs were interspersed with a diatribe upon the ingratitude of modern children and their evident wish to see their mother starving in the gutter.

India had heard it all before, but it always succeeded in distressing her. Now, faced with tears from Letty and her uncle’s acute discomfort, she undertook the belated role of peace-maker.

“May we not speak of this more calmly?” she asked, her deep voice cutting through the pandemonium. “Perhaps I have been too much the devil’s advocate. I have stated my objections. Now, Uncle, will you give us your own opinion?”

There was a sudden silence. Mrs Rushford’s sobbing ceased and a wary eye appeared from behind a sodden handkerchief. “Of course,” she muttered feebly. “Listen to your uncle, my dears. He will advise you…You know I think only of your happiness…When you have heard him out you will not oppose him, I am sure.”

“It is exactly as I told you, India.” Sir James settled back in his chair with obvious relief. Female vapourings were not to his taste. In the ordinary way he would have absented himself from the scene but this was a matter of the utmost importance. It would not be resolved by cowardice.

“Isham is prepared to be more than generous,” he continued. “He will make handsome settlements. Even at this present time he is undertaking extensive repairs to the Grange. I believe you should consider carefully before coming to a decision. This match would make all the difference to your circumstances…”

“Surely you won’t refuse him?” Mrs Rushford cried. “He may even be persuaded to do something for Giles.” She glanced slyly at India, knowing her elder daughter’s fondness for her brother. “The happiness of others is at stake, remember. It would be selfish beyond measure to think only of your own.”

India was silent. She knew that statement for what it was. Emotional blackmail was one of her mother’s favourite weapons.

Now Letty, desperate, was driven beyond her usual caution.

“Isham is such a black-looking man,” she wailed. “He frightens me! Mama, don’t make me wed him.”

India laid a firm hand on her sister’s shoulder, enjoining silence as she squeezed it gently.

“You find him ill-looking?” Isabel returned to the attack. “Let me tell you, miss, that I was married to the handsomest man in London, and where are we now?”

“I agree that looks are not everything,” India said quietly. “Uncle, I think you said that Lord Isham will return tomorrow?”

“After noon—possibly at four o’clock, or so he hoped.”

“Then may I call on Hester in the morning? I haven’t seen her in this age…”

Sir James hesitated, searching his mind for some reason to put her off. His eldest daughter, with her radical views on marriage, would be certain to advise against the match. Mrs Rushford too had seen the danger.

“Had you forgot, my love?” she asked sweetly. “The vicar is to call tomorrow. He would take it ill indeed if you were not at home.”

It was the first that either girl had heard of the proposed visit, but India understood at once. She was to be prevented at all costs from discussing Isham’s offer with the forthright Hester. She turned to her uncle.

“You are certain that we have nothing left—not even a single guinea, Uncle James?”

“No, my dear, and I am sorry for it, but there is nothing more to be done.” For some reason the question had disturbed him more than any of India’s previous questions. He gave her a sharp look. India was no fool. She must never guess that to pay off her father’s debts he himself had had to find the balance. It meant that repairs to his own roof must wait, but this was a matter of family honour.

She did not question him further. Instead she turned to her mother.

“Mama, shall you object if I see Lord Isham on my own tomorrow? You won’t be well enough to receive him, and there is no need for Uncle to be present.”

Isabel Rushford looked alarmed. “Nonsense, it is out of the question. It would not be seemly. Besides, I am feeling better already…”

“I thought that if I got to know him better…?”

Her mother eyed her with suspicion. “You are inclined to speak out much too freely, India. Remarks such as those you’ve made today would cause him to withdraw at once.”

“I promise not to cause him to withdraw…” India was playing for time. She was suffocating beneath the pressure brought to bear upon her.

“That’s my good girl!” Isabel beamed upon her daughter. “You always had good sense, and after all, it is not as though your affections are engaged elsewhere.” She turned to her brother-in-law. “Sadly poor India did not receive a single offer during her Season.”

“Then that must show a want of taste in our young men,” Sir James replied gallantly. “Now I must take my leave of you, but, my dear girls, do consider carefully. This could be a splendid match for one of you.”

Letty could scarcely wait until she and her sister were alone. Leaving the radiant Mrs Rushford to her dreams of glory, she seized India by the hand and dragged her downstairs to the parlour.

“What are we to do?” she cried in anguish. “Mama has set her heart upon this marriage.”

“I don’t know,” India admitted. “Letty, did you see Uncle’s face when I questioned him about the money?”

“Oh love, you don’t believe that he would lie to us? He would not withhold a penny that was due to us…”

“Of course not, but I suspect that all our assets have not met the debt. I think that he has paid the rest himself.”

“Oh no! That is truly dreadful! But, India, you must not let it sway you. Why did you agree to see Lord Isham? You dislike him so…you can’t be thinking of accepting him?”

“I had to say something. Mama was in a state and getting worse, and Uncle hated all the fuss…” She sighed. “I suppose that I am hoping for a miracle, but we must have more time. How I wish that Giles were here. He might think of something, and Mama will listen to him.”

“What could he do? Like the rest of us he has nothing now. The loss of the estate has been a bitter blow. He longed so much to manage it.”

“I know.” India was lost in thought. “Love, shall you mind if I retire? It’s early, but my head is pounding.”

Letty was all sympathy, but sensibly she refused to fuss. She knew her sister well. India needed time alone.

“You’ll think of something,” she announced with confidence. “You always do…” Dropping a kiss upon India’s brow, she left the room.

India’s mind was in turmoil. Letty’s confidence, she felt, was totally misplaced. For her own part she could see no solution to their problems other than to agree to this repugnant marriage. The Rushford family must no longer be a drain upon the stretched resources of her kindly uncle.

Her hope now was that Isham would find her unacceptable, but there she was torn with indecision. That might mean that Letty would be forced to wed him. That must not happen. Her gentle sister would be no match for that arrogant creature. He would make her life a misery.

Perhaps she herself could find a way to make him pay for the ruin he had brought upon them. It was a tempting thought, and revenge would be sweet.

There were other considerations. As Lady Isham she would have her own establishment, with the powers that an ancient title and vast wealth brought always in their train. And she could help Giles. Her mother would live out her days in comfort, and Letty, with her portion restored, might yet attain her heart’s desire. The reasons for accepting his lordship’s offer were overwhelming.

Yet every instinct warned her against it. She could not banish the darker side of the bargain from her mind. Isham was everything she detested in a man. He was an inveterate gambler, a roué and above all, one who had little regard for women. Was this to be her destiny, and the end of all her dreams of happiness?

She lay awake for hours, staring into the darkness, but by morning her decision had been made.

Next day her mirror revealed little evidence of her sleepless night, apart from a trace of shadow beneath the clear hazel eyes. Her creamy skin glowed with its usual health. As she tugged a brush through the heavy mass of auburn hair she sighed. What would she give now for the services of that fashionable London hairdresser with his gifted way of winding her locks into a style which emphasised her high cheekbones and the clean lines of her profile.

She did her best, but the result left much to be desired.

Still, it would not matter to Isham, she decided. He was not looking for a mistress, merely some female who would not disgrace his name and would provide him with an heir.

Well, she would not disgrace him. Her looks were not in the common way of fashion, but no one would mistake her for anything other than a woman of breeding. An unfortunate turn of phrase, she admitted to herself. It would not be pleasant to be regarded as a brood-mare.

The implications made her stomach churn, and she found that she was trembling. How could she let Isham touch her? Every sense recoiled from the idea. Stifling her fears, she hurried down to the parlour.

There she found the Vicar in conversation with her mother. William Perceval, Sir James’s younger brother, held the living, and had done so for many years. A kindly man, he was a favourite with both the Rushford girls.

India kissed him warmly, and asked about his family.

“Your Aunt Elizabeth is well,” he smiled. “Though she dislikes these cold, dank days of winter. The girls, of course, do not notice. That is one of the advantages of youth.”

India smiled. Her aunt made no secret of the fact that she detested winters spent in the draughty vicarage, try as she might to bear the conditions with Christian fortitude.

The Vicar shot a keen glance at his niece’s face. “Your mama has been speaking of Lord Isham’s offer,” he continued. “I was surprised to receive her message asking me to call so early…”

India did not look at her mama. As she had suspected, the story of the Vicar’s proposed visit had been a lie, designed to prevent her visiting Hester.

“We are always glad to see you,” she said truthfully.

“And this offer? How do you feel about it?”

“It came as a shock to us.” India would go no further, but the Vicar was concerned.

He had never had much time for Mrs Rushford—a hysteric and a hypochondriac if ever he saw one. He was well aware of the means she used to get her way. Not for the first time, he gave thanks to heaven that his brother had chosen her sister rather than herself to be his wife.

As for the girls…Poor Letty was looking distraught and India, though controlling her emotions, was clearly under a great strain.

There was little he could do to help them, without appearing to interfere too obviously. For the moment he contented himself with observing that as marriage was for life even the dazzling prospect of this unexpected offer should be given a great deal of thought.

Mrs Rushford frowned at him. “Why, Vicar, as their uncle I expect you to have the welfare of my girls at heart. What is there to think about? Such a chance is unlikely to come their way again…”

“And do my nieces agree?” he asked lightly, aware of the air of tension in the room.

The ensuing silence gave him his answer, and Mrs Rushford gave him a dagger-look, which she then attempted to hide.

“What do young girls know of these things?” she asked. “They must be guided by their elders.”

“I see.” It was no more than the truth. He saw very well how matters lay. The girls were to be hounded until one or the other accepted Lord Isham. Well, in the last resort he would refuse to marry an unwilling bride, however wealthy her suitor.

Mrs Rushford saw his set expression and made haste to change the subject. “Have you heard no more of the Marchioness?” she asked. “That is a strange business.”

“Indeed it is. Rumour is rife, but we cannot place any reliance on such gossip. So many months have passed since she was seen that we must pray that no harm has befallen her.”

“It is said that Sywell himself has murdered her,” Mrs Rushford announced with relish.

“A rumour entirely without foundation, Isabel. The Marquis is ill-tempered, and capable of violence, but I cannot believe that he would visit it upon his wife. He doted on her.”

“Then where can she be?”

“No one seems able to answer that question. I attempted to question the Marquis, but I am unwelcome at the Abbey. As you know, I was against this marriage from the start. The union of May and December will never serve, and Louise Hanslope was little more than a child when she took it into her head to marry a man three times her age. It could only lead to disaster.”

“You think it important then, for both parties to be in complete accord?” India asked quietly.

“I do.” The Vicar smiled at her. “Marriage is a difficult state at the best of times. In the first flush of passion most people do not think it so, but it demands self-control, tolerance, and sometimes heavy sacrifice. Such qualities are not common in our society. Best of all, a life partner should also be a friend.”

“It seems idyllic, but almost a fantasy,” she agreed.

“It can happen, my dear. And when it does nothing can be more fulfilling. Well, I must save my sermon until Sunday, but you must come to see me if you feel the need.”

The door had scarcely closed upon him before Isabel Rushford voiced her displeasure.

“Why, I wonder, would your uncle consider that either of you girls might wish to see him privately? Your own mama is the person to advise you.”

“I think he meant only to be kind,” Letty murmured. “After all, it is his calling…”

Mrs Rushford sniffed. Her regular attendance at the Abbey services owed nothing to religion, but she enjoyed her role as the tragic widow, and the opportunity to gossip. Now she turned on India.

“I must hope that you intend to change your gown before his lordship’s visit,” she snapped. “That bombazine is positively dreary.”

“It is the warmest thing I have,” India told her simply. “Mama, the weather is so bitter, and this house is very cold. You will not expect me to freeze to please Lord Isham?”

“Must you defy me at every turn? I know that the black silk with the inset trimming has been turned and dyed, but it is more becoming. You will please wear it.”

Delighted though she was by Isham’s offer, Mrs Rushford viewed his coming visit with some apprehension. Privately she expected him to choose Letty as his bride, in spite of his suggestion that the girls should decide between them. At all costs India must be prevented from seeing him alone. She had given her promise not to cause him to withdraw, but would she be able to keep to it?

She now felt that she must play her highest card. “Think of your brother,” she coaxed. “He is sure to learn of something through Isham. His lordship must have several livings in his gift.”

Even Letty giggled. “Giles as a parson, Mama? He would not hear of it!”

“Hold your tongue, you foolish child! Giles will decide for himself.”

“Most certainly he will!” India gave her sister a speaking glance. The transformation in their mother was extraordinary.

Vanished was yesterday’s shrinking invalid. Mrs Rushford was already relishing her position as mother of the future Lady Isham. Naturally, her influence would be welcomed by her powerful relatives.

“Isham does not strike me as a man who will be easily persuaded,” India murmured.

“Perhaps not at the moment, but a wife is in a privileged position. Then it will be different, mark my words!”

The prospect gave India no comfort. The sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach was increasing by the minute as the dreaded interview approached. Now she prayed that his lordship had reconsidered his outrageous proposal. He had had time to sleep on it. Perhaps he had already changed his mind.

She could not rely upon such a happy outcome, and she could do no more than pick at the simple meal of cold meats which awaited them.

“Eat up, my girl!” her mother urged. “A lack of food will cause you to feel faint. Isham must not believe you to be subject to fits of the vapours and you are already much too pale. It is such a pity that we are still in mourning. I wonder if you should change again…perhaps the grey?”

India rebelled at that. “Mama, it cannot matter. What we wear is not of the least importance. Lord Isham met us yesterday, when we wore our plain round morning-gowns. He can be under no illusion as to our looks.”

“Do as I say!” came the furious retort. “Letty must change too. At present you remind me of nothing so much as washerwomen.”

There was nothing more to be said, but when they reached Letty’s room she seized India’s hand and looked at her with anguished eyes.

“India, I beg of you! Do not go through with this! You should not sacrifice yourself for me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” India lied gallantly. “Nothing has been decided yet. You know that I hope to win more time…”

“Pray don’t try to deceive me. I know you too well…You mean to take him, don’t you?”

“I mean to talk to him. As I said, we do not know him. Possibly he is more reasonable than we imagine. I may be able to persuade him to wait, at least until Giles returns.”

“But how will that help us?”

“Giles may have heard of some position which would restore our fortunes…” Privately, India thought this unlikely, but she refused to give up hope. “Meantime, I must see Isham on my own. Mama will not hear of a delay. One of us will be handfasted to that insolent creature before we can blink an eye.”

Letty still looked troubled. She only half believed her sister, but she promised to talk their mama into allowing India a private interview with his lordship.

“But only if you will give me your word…?”

“Letty, I am not the stuff of martyrs. If all else fails I might agree to an engagement. I could break it later.”

“I suppose so.” Letty gave her a watery smile. “I feel so selfish, dearest, to have refused outright.”

“Never that.” India looked at the clock. “Help me now. Isham is sure to be on time…”

She was right. They had not long to wait. As the clock struck four Isham was announced and shown into the parlour.

As he bowed to her mother India stole a critical look at him. He had exchanged his riding garb for more formal garb, but the perfect tailoring of his plain blue coat served only to emphasise his massive, heavily muscled frame. There was nothing of the dandy about him and she guessed correctly that once dressed he gave his attire no further thought.

His manner was correct, his bow perfection, but his presence shattered the genteel atmosphere in the parlour. India had the impression that a strong wind had blown away all the conventions of polite society.

There was no obvious reason for this. An aristocrat to his fingertips, like many big men he moved with ease and grace. To her relief she was spared his penetrating stare on this occasion.

Instead, he engaged her mother in conversation. “I hope I see you much recovered, ma’am,” he murmured. “I was distressed to learn of your indisposition.”

“It was nothing, my lord.” Mrs Rushford waved aside all mention of her previous ailments. “Merely a headache brought on by this bitter weather. Sir, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Abbot’s Quincey.”

Isham bowed again. “You know this part of the country well?”

“I was born here, and so were my girls at…at the Grange.”

“Ah, yes!” Isham betrayed no trace of embarrassment at this mention of his recently acquired property. “I have just come from there. There is much to be done, I fear. Perhaps you will be good enough to advise me?”

India glanced at her sister. His lordship had found a sure way to her mother’s heart. For the next half-hour she was forced to listen to a discussion about the necessary improvements to the Grange, and the merits of the various workmen in the village.

She glanced down at her hands and found that they were trembling. She hid them at once in the folds of her gown but nothing could remedy the leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had summoned all her courage for the coming interview but it was deserting her fast. Now she longed only to get it over with.

It seemed an age before her mother rose and summoned Letty to her side.

“Will you excuse us, sir?” she said. “India would like to speak to you.”

Isham merely bowed and held the door for them. As it closed he turned and leaned against it. For a panic-stricken moment India felt trapped. Once again she was forced to suffer that long, assessing stare.

“So you are to be the sacrificial lamb?” his lordship drawled at last. “What a fate, my dear!”