“I’m sorry—you must forgive me. I’m just not following this conversation.”
“You’re very good,” she said. “You give nothing away. No doubt you’ve had to become good in this past year in order to achieve what you have. I might have doubted myself, had I not so vividly remembered seeing young Lady Witmore, Countess of Rothford, at a party five years ago. Your parents had just passed, and Lady Alice Witmore was already perfectly aware her family’s fortunes were fading and that she’d have to secure a good marriage for you. You were too young at the time, but she was already at work. I recall thinking you were so lovely and that she’d have no difficulty in arranging things.” Viola paused meaningfully. “But when I saw you on the docks at your arrival, I realized I must have been wrong. You look very much like you did five years ago—more mature, of course. Very much a woman. Maybe even more beautiful.”
“Mistress Doyle,” I said stiffly, refusing to use her first name. “You have made some sort of error.”
She beckoned a servant to replace her champagne glass. “Or, is it possible you had a good match but didn’t want the man? I can certainly understand that.” Her eyes lingered briefly on the governor. “Whatever has led you here, I am glad. It was very adventurous of you, very risky, but as you can see, everything happens for a reason.”
I stared off at the room, buzzing with guests I barely took note of. I hadn’t expected this. I had nothing prepared. At last, conceding, I asked, “Does Warren know?”
“Of course. It’s why he’s so eager. Like me, he’d long dreamed of a worthy match. We’d assumed the Glittering Court, with its cheap imitations, was the best we could manage. I’ve met those girls in the past, you know. They do an admirable job, but their common roots often show. When I made inquiries about you that first week—and of course I did, after I recognized you—I learned how exemplary you were. Perfect in every exam they gave you, as though you’d been born to this.”
I dragged my gaze from the room and met her squarely in the eye. “Mistress Doyle, what is it you want from me?”
“You already know. I want you to marry my son. I want you both to be happy and have a long, prosperous life together governing Hadisen.” She paused again in that dramatic way of hers. “Even you can’t find fault with this. You obviously came here in search of an advantageous marriage. Can you honestly tell me there’s a better one available? One with such a future and a man who’s smitten with you—he is, you know, regardless of your title. And securing a marriage early would certainly benefit you. As an unwed woman—still legally bound to your grandmother—you could very well be taken back to Osfrid by some enterprising bounty hunter. Marriage binds you to your husband. It frees you.”
“Are you threatening me?” I asked.
“Lady Witmore,” she said softly, “I’m simply laying out the facts for you.”
Dinner was called, and I numbly took my place at the table. Viola, thankfully, was at the other end, but Warren sat right next to me, as happy as ever to see me. He chatted on about the great dreams he had for his colony and how he hoped to implement them. I nodded along, smiling appropriately as my own thoughts spun wildly.
After all the control I thought I’d seized in my life, I suddenly felt adrift—as helpless as the bobbing Gray Gull tossed on the storm. I felt alone and trapped, desperate for an ally. But Mira was seated far away, and Cedric . . . well, who knew where he was?
Back in Osfrid, at Blue Spring, discovery of my title would have been disastrous, almost certainly sending me back to Grandmama. Once I’d set foot in the New World, my security had increased exponentially. Even if I was recognized—and I’d never believed I would be—there was a whole ocean between me and Osfrid. For anyone to send word back and take action would be difficult and time-consuming, especially if I’d be engaged in the next few months.
Unless Viola was right. If someone forcefully tried to take me back now, hoping to gain a reward, I’d have no recourse. I’d be trapped on a ship for two months and promptly carted off to Osfro. Marriage made me independent—or, well, bound to someone else. Bound to someone I chose. At least, I thought I’d be able to choose.
Studying Warren now, I wondered if he was a bad choice. Before speaking to Viola, I hadn’t thought so. She was right that instantly falling in love with anyone was far-fetched. The smart thing to do was secure my future with someone wealthy and reasonably nice. Warren was both.