The Wedding Game. Christine Merrill

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The Wedding Game - Christine Merrill


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do not mean to explain?’ Now Father sounded almost as heartless as Mr Lovell.

      ‘An intelligent man will find it out for himself before he offers,’ her father replied with another warning rattle of papers. ‘If he does not, he will understand that marriages are negotiated contracts, no different than all other business. No human being is perfect. Both sides must balance advantages against defects before coming to an agreement.’

      In her father’s mind, the Summoner name had more than enough weight to balance the heaviest of problems. It was a shame that he did not want to marry Mr Lovell himself. They were well matched, since neither of them cared a fig for the feelings of the girl they would be bargaining over. ‘Suppose the husband you choose does not love her as we do?’

      ‘Love is not necessary before marriage. It might grow in time, of course.’ When he looked up from his work, his expression was distant. ‘I grew to be quite fond of your mother. Her loss was a blow from which I have yet to recover.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Mutual respect is a satisfactory basis for a relationship and far less painful for all parties involved.’

      If that was his opinion, then the odious Mr Lovell was exactly the sort of son-in-law he was seeking. But how would she explain the abstract notions of a loveless union to her sister? ‘It sounds very sensible. If we were discussing my courtship, I might be swayed. Belle is different. She will be happier in a match where there is mutual affection.’

      ‘A romance, do you mean?’ he responded with a condescending smile to remind her that, in comparison to a man, both his daughters were idiots. ‘The fellow you are hoping for does not exist, Amelia. You have already admitted that your sister is unusual. We love her because we are her family. Others are not likely to be so charitable. Her future husband will require the inducements I am prepared to offer to overlook her deficiencies. It will not help her or any of us if you fill her head with nonsense.’

      ‘It is not nonsense to want to love and be loved in return,’ she said, wanting with all her heart to believe that was true.

      Her father sighed. ‘So you told me when you refused the offers put to you in your own Season. Now you seek to make a failure of your sister’s come out.’ He shook his head in disappointment. ‘I did not think you so selfish, Amelia.’

      ‘I am not selfish,’ she insisted. ‘I want what is best for her. If she weds, she will still need looking after. If you mean to choose a husband without a care to her feelings, it will be up to me to help her adjust to her new life and to console her should it all go wrong.’

      His eyes narrowed, as if her words had only confirmed his opinion. ‘I suspect your coddling the girl has caused most of her problems. When she does not have you to support her, she will learn to stand on her own, quick enough.’

      ‘She will not because she cannot.’ And thus they arrived at the usual sticking point. Discussions of Belle’s difficulties always ended with her father refusing to believe they could not be solved by more effort on Belle’s part and less interference on Amy’s. ‘This has nothing to do with desire to meddle in her future. She needs someone to care for her, Father. She always has. It is why I did not marry and why I intend to live in her household, after she weds. She needs me.’

      Lord Summoner passed a hand over his brow to shield himself from feminine logic. ‘It is one thing to play the spinster, Amelia, and quite another to actually become one. If you seriously think to follow her into her new household, I will have to find one man willing to take responsibility for both daughters. You are making my job twice as difficult.’

      ‘Good,’ she said, raising her chin in defiance. ‘It will give me time to find her a man who truly understands her.’

      ‘If the situation is as dire as you claim, then perhaps I should find a nurse for her and a husband for you.’ It was a reasonable suggestion, but his cynical smile as he spoke revealed his true feelings in the matter. ‘Since you have spent years ruining all chances for your own marriage that is now quite impossible. In any case, know that I cannot die leaving two unmarried daughters to fend for themselves.’

      ‘Since you are not near to death, we hardly need to worry about it,’ she pointed out, unwilling to respond to the bait he set for her.

      ‘And you are not the head of the family, though you seem to think you can act thus. The final decision on Belle’s future is mine and mine alone. She will be married by Season’s end and your approval of my choice is not required or appreciated.’

      He stood to indicate the interview was at an end, leaving her little choice but to leave the study, return to her room and plan her counter-attack.

       Chapter Four

      The difficult morning discussion was followed by an afternoon too beautiful to stay indoors. If Amy wished to circumvent her father’s plans, there was no better place to spend it than on Rotten Row, where anyone of importance took to horse or carriage to see and be seen by the rest of the ton.

      Belle was seated on her gentle, brown mare, looking her best in a bright blue riding habit with a tall hat dressed in lace. With hair of spun gold and eyes as blue as a summer sky, there was none to compare to her.

      It was a shame.

      As she did, each time the thought crossed her mind, Amy felt guilty and silently enumerated a few more of Belle’s virtues. She was kind and loving. She was loyal and had a gentle heart. In comparison to all that, did her deficiencies amount to so much?

      ‘I like to ride,’ Belle said. Her hands stroked the horse’s mane.

      ‘As do I, dear,’ Amy agreed and adjusted her own grip on her sister’s reins to better lead her horse. ‘Did you have a nice time at Almack’s last night?’

      ‘Yes,’ Belle replied. ‘I like to dance.’

      ‘Did you speak with anyone of interest?’ she probed gently.

      As she tried to form an answer, Belle’s smile dimmed. Thoughts flitted across her face like clouds. Then she smiled again. ‘I danced every dance.’

      ‘But with no gentleman more than once, I hope.’ She had kept a close watch on Belle’s dance card to prevent any partner from monopolising her time. But Belle, Lord bless her, was exceptionally easy to trick.

      ‘I danced every dance,’ she repeated, still smiling.

      ‘You did, indeed,’ Amy said, sighing.

      ‘Will there be dancing at the wedding?’

      ‘What wedding, dear?’

      ‘My wedding.’ There was much that her little sister did not understand. But she had grasped the main purpose of the Season. It was left to Amy to help her with the details.

      ‘Weddings are held in the morning, Belle. There will be a breakfast, not a ball.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘But we must be sure that your husband likes to dance as much as you do.’

      Belle nodded, satisfied. ‘Who is he?’

      ‘Your husband?’ It had been too much to hope that Belle could understand her need to participate in the process of choosing such the man. ‘We do not know as yet. We cannot choose just any man. We are looking for someone whose company you enjoy. Is there anyone you particularly liked last evening?’

      ‘I liked the dancing,’ she repeated again. ‘And I liked all the boys who danced with me.’

      Good-hearted soul that she was, Belle liked them all equally. Amy sighed again. ‘I am making a list of gentlemen who might be good husbands. I have talked to Father about them.’ And enough said about that, since there was no point in spoiling this conversation with the truth. ‘We will find someone who loves you as much as we do.’

      ‘Someone who likes to dance,’


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