The Reluctant Widow Read Online Free PDF Page A

cousin. You must own that the advantages of such an alliance would outweigh the drawbacks which, I assure you, I perceive as clearly as you do yourself. His character is disgraceful, but he comes of a good family. As Mrs. Cheviot, with an easy competence to call your own, you must command respect. You need do no more than take my cousin’s hand in church. I will engage for it that he shall not afterward molest you. You may pass the rest of your life in comfort; you may even marry a second time, for I am in earnest when I say that my cousin cannot hope to continue long in his present way of life. Think soberly before you make me an answer!”
    She heard him out in silence, meeting his steady regard at first but presently lowering her eyes to the contemplation of her own hands, tightly clasped in her lap. It was impossible for her to listen to him unmoved. It was rarely that she had encountered a fellow creature who understood any part of the ills of her situation. Such casual acquaintances as she possessed seemed to think that the genteel nature of her chosen occupation must make it acceptable to her. But this strange, curt man, with his rather hard eyes and his almost blighting matter-of-factness, had called her life a drudgery. He had said it without a trace of sympathy in either face or voice, but he had said it, and only those who had endured such a life could know how true it was.
    She hoped that she had too much delicacy of principle to allow the temptation she felt to overcome her scruples. That it was a temptation it would be useless to deny. Her future was indeed uncertain, and she was being offered, merely for giving her hand in nominal marriage, security, perhaps even the means of commanding again some of the elegancies of life. To remain steady in refusing must be a struggle. It was a minute or two before she could trust herself to look up. She tried to smile; it was a woeful attempt. She shook her head. “I cannot. Do not press me further, I beg of you! My mind is made up.” He bowed slightly. “As you wish.”
    “I think you must perceive that I could not do it, sir.”
    “You have asked me not to press you further, and I shall not do so. You shall be conveyed to Five Mile Ash at whatever hour of the day you choose tomorrow.”
    “You are very good,” she said gratefully. “I wish Mrs. Macclesfield may not turn me from her door! I am persuaded she would do so if she knew the truth!”
    “You will have time to think of some more acceptable explanation. Drink your tea! When you have done so I will conduct you to the inn I spoke of and arrange for your accommodation
    there.”
    She thanked him meekly and picked up her cup. She was relieved to find that he did not appear to be vexed or even disappointed at her refusal to fall in with his schemes. She felt herself impelled to say, “I am sorry to disoblige you, my lord.”
    “I know of no reason why you should be expected to oblige me,” he answered. He took his snuffbox from his pocket, and opened it. “You still have the advantage of me,” he remarked easily. “May I know your name?”
    “My name is Rochdale,” she replied after a second’s hesitation. “Elinor Rochdale.” His hand remained poised above his open box; he looked up quickly, and repeated in an expressionless tone, “Rochdale.”
    She was conscious of a heightening of the color in her cheeks. She said defiantly, “Of Feldenhall!”
    He inclined his head in a gesture betokening nothing more than an indifferent civility, but she was very sure that he knew her history. She watched him inhale his snuff, and suddenly said, “You are correct in what you are thinking, sir: I am the daughter of a man who, between unlucky speculation and the gaming table, came to ruin, and shot himself.” If she had expected to embarrass him, she was doomed to disappointment. He restored his snuffbox to his pocket, remarking merely, “I should not have supposed it to have been necessary for Miss Rochdale