Only then did she collapse on to a chair, trembling. How dare he, how dare he add this insult to the rest? She would not cry, this was beyond tears. When the trembling ceased she went into the gardens, but even there it was impossible to think clearly. The heady perfume of the roses, the beautifully scythed lawns, every scent, every image combined to bring home to her just what she would lose in a few weeks’ time. Unless I marry Lucas Blackstone. That was a price she would not pay, but even as she told herself so another voice told her she must at least consider it. Her decision would affect not only her life but her father’s, and everyone at Oakenroyd. She could remain mistress here, her father’s comfort would be assured. And the alternative? She exhaled and looked up, staring at the cloudless blue sky. It was all very well for her to choose to live in penury, but could she expect her father to do so? His health was not good. What if he became ill? There would be doctors’ bills, medicines.
