Edenbrooke Read Free Page A

In fact, that is my stipulation. I will have you become a proper young lady, Marianne. You will write to me while you are there and tell me what you are learning, or else I will call you back here and train you myself.”
    My thoughts were whirling, and I could hardly grasp onto one long enough to make sense of it.
    “You look pale,” Grandmother said. “Go upstairs and lie down. You will find your balance soon enough. But do not mention a word of this inheritance to that maid of yours! It is not the sort of information you want others to know about at this time. If you cannot discourage a simpleton like Mr. Whittles, you will be helpless against other, more cunning men who will be after your fortune. Let me decide when to make this news known. I still have to notify that nephew of mine.”
    I shook my head. “Of course I will not tell anyone.” I chewed on my lower lip. “But what about Aunt Amelia’s inheritance? And Cecily’s?”
    She waved a hand dismissively. “Amelia’s portion is independent of yours. Don’t worry about her. And Cecily does not need a fortune to make a brilliant match—you do.”
    This inheritance was born of pity? Because Grandmother did not think I could marry without it? I felt I should be embarrassed about this revelation, but I felt singularly unmoved, as if an important conduit between my mind and heart had been severed. I walked slowly toward the door. Perhaps I did need to lie down a while.
    I opened the door and was nearly bowled over by Mr. Whittles. He must have been leaning on the door, for he stumbled, off-balance, into the room.
    “Pardon me!” he exclaimed.
    “Mr. Whittles!” I stepped backward quickly so as to avoid contact with him.
    “I—I have returned for my poem. So that I might make the changes you suggested.”
    I looked beyond him to see Aunt Amelia waiting in the hall. At least that explained his presence in the house. I took his poem from my pocket and handed it to him, being careful not to touch his hand. He bowed and thanked me four times as he backed out of the room and down the hall to the front door. The man was utterly ridiculous.
    But at the sight of him, a feeling of excitement rushed through me, bridging the strange gap I had felt between my mind and heart. Never mind the inheritance—I would think on that later. I would soon be able to leave Bath, and hopefully never see Mr. Whittles again. I smiled and turned to run up the stairs. I had a letter to write.
    I wrote to Cecily to accept her invitation, but I did not mention the inheritance. Despite Grandmother’s assurances, I could not believe that Cecily would be as indifferent about not inheriting a fortune as Grandmother felt about not leaving her one. I certainly couldn’t keep forty thousand pounds to myself while my twin sister enjoyed only a small dowry. It did not sit comfortably with me to be at such an unfair advantage.
    But I decided, after a few days of worrying over it, that there would be plenty of time to work it out with Cecily in the future. After all, the fortune was not even mine at this point. And Grandmother was still spry. It could be years before the money came into my possession. For my part, I would tell no one of it until it actually became a reality.
    The following two weeks passed in a blur of frenzied visits to dressmakers and milliners’ shops. I should have enjoyed all of the shopping, but the thought of being on display at Edenbrooke turned my pleasure into anxiety. What if I embarrassed Cecily in front of her future family? Perhaps she would regret inviting me. And could I possibly behave myself with the decorum that my grandmother expected of me? I worried over these matters until it was time to leave Bath.
    On the morning of my departure, Grandmother took one look at me over breakfast and declared, “You look positively green, child. Whatever is the matter with you?”
    I forced a small smile and said, “I am well. Only a little jittery, I suppose.”
    “You