Read Online Hope for Tomorrow by Catherine Winchester - Free Book Online Page B

talk.
    “ Oh yes, thank you.”
    “ I suppose you came by carriage since the railway doesn't come this far.”
    “ Yes, by carriage.” She glanced up at him very briefly with a shy smile, then quickly looked away.
    “ I think the railways are a marvellous invention, don't you?”
    “ I don't know, I have never been on a rail journey.”
    “ But surely you must read the papers, you must know how they are helping our economy?”
    “ I do not read a paper, sir. Mother says that it is unladylike.”
    “ And do you always do everything your mother tells you?”
    “ Of course. She is my mother.”
    “ And what if you disagree with her?”
    “ I don't understand.”
    “ Surely you must have some independent thoughts.”
    “ I suppose so but I always obey my parents.” She smiled at him, obviously thinking that this would make her a good wife.
    “ That must make for a rather dull dinner table,” he said.
    “ I'm sorry?”
    “ Well, with everyone agreeing, whatever do you find to talk about over dinner?”
    “ Well, my father enjoys hearing about my embroidery and sketching.”
    “ And is that how you spend your days, embroidering things and drawing sketches that no one outside your family will ever get to see?”
    “ I... I am quite accomplished, sir. I can play the piano and speak French.”
    “ Accomplished? How wonderful. I assume that you enjoy the classics then?”
    “ I-”
    “ Greek mythology was always a favourite of mine. Such heroism, such bravery, and of course such wonderful villains.”
    “ I have never read any Greek mythology,” she admitted in a small voice.
    “ Oh, well surely you will have read the philosophers then. Marcus Aurelius, Seneca the Younger and the like?”
    “ No, Sir.”
    “ So you do not have a single opinion of your own, you never disagree with your parents and your reading doesn't seem to extend beyond childhood books. I wonder that you consider yourself ready for marriage when it seems that you are unable to even form an opinion. Indeed I believe that you are so unworldly and infantilised that you are not even fit to be called an adult.”
    She looked up at him without even any anger in her eyes, only hurt, then she ran from the room, her mother quickly following after her.
    His own mother glared at him but didn't dare rebuke him in public.
    Lucien did feel a little guilty for hurting the girl but when she returned a few minutes later, clearly happy to be subjected to more abuse in the hope of making a 'good' marriage, he stopped feeling guilty. For if she did not respect herself, then why should he.
    He didn't question her any further though; he had proved his point so he simply sat quietly, amusing himself by answering any questions put to him with as few words as possible.
    When their guests left, his mother rebuked him though his father remained silent. Perhaps knowing what it was like to share your life with a 'proper lady' had given his father a little empathy with his son, or perhaps he simply couldn't be bothered to get involved. Either way, his mother soon gave up, informing him that she was washing her hands of him, though they both knew that in another few weeks she would be inviting another young woman to dine.
    Lucien headed to bed, though he was far from tired. He dismissed his valet, removed his jacket, tie and waistcoat and then out took his journal and began writing. His journals were his only outlet for his emotions since Martha had left. Mrs Lassiter was a good woman and she cared about him but they were not confidants in that way that he and Martha had been.
    Most of his entries were addressed to her in the form of letters and sometimes he could almost hear her reply. Tonight he could hear her voice rebuke him for having taunted Elizabeth earlier and go on to explain that the girl was a product of her upbringing and no more able to change who she was that a fish was able to fly.
    “ And what gives you your strength?” he asked aloud.
    'It's