Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

" Y ou've been missed," Cressida's father said, embracing her. "I wonder whether perhaps I made a mistake in allowing you to marry."

Cressida knew better than to take that at face value. "What do you mean?" she asked him.

"Well, it's just been a nightmare around here without you," her father explained. "I've had no one to help me organize my books, no one to tend to Victoria's season…"

"You have staff to help you, Father," Cressida pointed out patiently, even as her heart sank slightly. She should have known better than to think her father might have missed her because he cared for her or wanted her company, and yet, for a brief moment, she had believed it. She had thought it might be true.

But that had never been their relationship. It wasn't as if her father despised her, Cressida knew—it wasn't even that he didn't care. It was just that the ways she could be helpful to him had always been more of a priority for him than the ways he could be helpful to her. That wasn't the way a relationship between a parent and a child ought to be, but it was the way theirs had always been.

"Well, you had to allow me to marry," she told him. "I know that Matthew helped you with your debt. I know that's why you did it."

"That's true," her father said. "And yet, it's also true that it didn't have to be you. He was going to marry Victoria until you intervened. I still wonder why you did that."

"She didn't wish to marry him, Father. You do know that. She told us that."

"You didn't wish to marry him either, surely? You had never met him before I invited him to the house, nor had you ever shown any particular interest in marriage. I rather thought you were the child who would remain with me into my old age."

"I'm sure you were counting on it," Cressida murmured under her breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," she assured him. She didn't know whether her comment would hurt him or provoke his ire, but she had no wish to do either one.

"I wish he had married Victoria, as I had originally planned," her father said. "Then I would still have you to help me, and neither one of us would have to worry about Victoria's prospects. I don't know how you managed it."

"She has prospects, then?"

"Well, I've no idea!" Cressida's father said, throwing up his hands. "She tells me nothing. She goes to these balls with that friend of hers, Miss Isabella, and her family. And when she returns, she tells me she had a lovely time and nothing more . What am I to make of that?"

"Have gentlemen come to call on her?"

"Not a one. And yet she seems not to concern herself at all. One would think that she was turning into you."

"Turning into me? What does that mean?"

"I thought I had one daughter who wished to marry and one who took no interest. I had contented myself with that fact. And now I come to find that I had you backward. It was you who wished to marry all along!"

"I didn't wish to marry all along."

"Yes, I see. So Lord Feverton just came along and won your heart—was that the way of it?"

"Father, how many times have you told me that making arrangements for Victoria was my responsibility? Even now, you say you wish I was here to do it. And yet, when I was here, you took it upon yourself to make an arrangement, and all you seem to do is complain that I took matters into my own hands on that occasion. I'm happy with the outcome. You should try to be happy too. After all, your debts were paid, and I know that's the primary reason you had for seeking this union in the first place. Aren't you in a better place, financially?"

"Well, yes," her father admitted. "As a matter of fact, I was able to put some of the money your husband gave me toward a dowry for Victoria."

Cressida was momentarily surprised. She hadn't realized her father had been given that much in exchange for her hand. But she was glad of it. "If that's true, it ought to be that much easier for you to make arrangements for Victoria," she said. "Having a dowry ought to simplify the matter considerably. Surely you can find a willing gentleman."

For a moment, she thought of the man she had caught Victoria on her own with—the baron's son. That seemed such a long time ago, and so much had happened since then that Cressida realized she hadn't given the matter much thought. But now she did. The second son of a baron—especially one who wasn't wealthy—wouldn't have much to offer her sister. But if there was a dowry, would that change things? She supposed it would depend on how much money there was for Victoria, and for a moment Cressida joined her father in wishing that she was still the one managing these affairs. She didn't know if she could trust him to be responsible with that money while still balancing Victoria's desires and what was best for her. It would have been a significant task even for a very responsible father, and Cressida's father had certainly never been that.

"I could find someone," her father agreed. "But how do I know she wouldn't simply do what she did the last time I found someone for her—insist that she didn't want to marry him? There are only so many suitors I can bring home for her, and what are all these balls for if she isn't going to draw the attention of any gentlemen. She's a lovely young lady. It can't be that no one cares for the way she looks. I wonder if she's even trying."

"I'm sure she is, Father," Cressida said. "Perhaps there's some other detail to all this. Some reason she hasn't been able to find a gentleman to court her."

"Well, I can't think what that might be. Can you?"

"I have no idea, as I haven't been here." Cressida wasn't going to reveal her sister's secret. If this was about the baron's son, Victoria would tell their father in her own time. "Where is she today? When I came to visit, I assumed I would be seeing you both."

"She and Miss Isabella have gone into town. She told me they needed to do some shopping. Had you written to tell us you were coming, I'm sure she would have stayed. She misses you terribly, just as I do."

And Victoria probably missed her for real reasons, Cressida thought, and not just because she was used to having someone to help her manage things. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

"In a few hours, I should think."

"I'll wait for her, then. I'd like to see her."

"Are you sure you can wait?" her father asked, a dubious expression on his face. "Doesn't your husband want you to return home to him?"

"He won't mind. He'll be away at work right now, anyway," Cressida assured him.

"In that case, I suppose you might as well spend your time here," her father agreed. "Come into the sitting room. We'll have some tea and wait for your sister."

Night was falling by the time Victoria finally arrived.

"Oh, Cressida, I'm so sorry!" She flung her arms around Cressida. "I had no idea you were coming today. If I had known, I would have stayed at home and gone out a different day."

"I thought you went shopping," Cressida said.

"I did!" Victoria said earnestly. "I was in town with Isabella."

"And you didn't purchase anything?" Cressida asked. This was the kind of thing she was sure her father wouldn't have noticed. He had never been an attentive father, and he wasn't used to the demands of being that way. But Cressida had observed the moment her sister had walked in that she carried no packages. It was most unlike Victoria, who had always enjoyed buying herself little treats when she could.

"Oh," Victoria said, her eyes shifting away from Cressida's. "Well—no, I didn't. I didn't have very much money."

"I know you always like to buy something little, though, even if you haven't got much," Cressida said. "I'm surprised you didn't come home with anything at all."

"We really went into town to shop for Isabella, not for me," Cressida said. "She wanted new gloves for the upcoming ball, and she needed my help to choose suitable ones to match her gown—it's a long story." She waved a hand. "Are you able to stay for a while, Cressida? I know it's very late. You must be anxious to be on your way."

That was as alarming as anything else. Cressida had the strange feeling her sister was trying to hurry her out, and she couldn't think why Victoria should want to do such a thing. She hadn't expected her father to feel very much about her visit, so she hadn't been surprised when that was what had happened. But she'd imagined that Victoria would beg her to stay as long as she was able. It didn't feel right that her sister was ready to see her go.

"You can't go yet," her father said. "I need you to help me look over my books before you go."

Cressida turned to him in surprise. "Truly? I've been here for hours. Why would you only mention this to me now? We could have been doing that while we waited for Victoria to return."

"I only just thought of it," her father said.

Of course he had. He had always been so disorganized, never able to properly plan ahead about things. "I really should be on my way," she told him. "It will be dark soon."

"This won't take long. Come, Cressida, I need your help. You know that I'm liable to make a mess of things without you—you wouldn't let that happen, would you? I've already lost so much without you."

She couldn't refuse him. It troubled her that he let himself depend on her help as much as he did, but she also knew that what he was saying was true. In many ways, he couldn't manage without her. And if it had been just him, that might have been one thing—she might have left him to figure it out—but if he ended up back in debt, that would affect Victoria's life as well. How long would it be before her father tried to arrange another marriage that Victoria didn't want—and this time, Cressida would not be able to stand in her place.

She sighed. "Get the books," she told her father. "Let's do this quickly. I need to get home."