Born of Persuasion by Jessica Dotta

mind you,” Mrs. Windham said, moving toward me when I did nothing but stare. “This is coming straight from my purse. Just a one-time dowry, you understand.”
    “Has she experience tending children?” Miss Pitts’s beady eyes blinked as she continued to examine me as one might a pig at market. “Hugh Kellie gots more’n he can handle. Think she can manage young Abe?”
    Mrs. Windham made a snorting noise, pulling me two steps into the room. “No, indeed! I’ll only pay twenty if it’s to the likes of him. Haven’t you a merchant, at least? I tell you, she’s as good as a gentleman’s daughter. Too good for Hugh Kellie or his ilk.”
    I turned my dazed stare on Mrs. Windham, wanting to remind her that I was a gentleman’s daughter, yet words fled me. All I could think was that my fortune had sunk so low that my only choices were to marry lowborn or become a servant.
    Miss Pitts frowned. “Aye, but Kellie would be willing to start the banns this coming Sunday if the girl’s agreeable. You said the sooner the better. Fifty pounds would set him up right well and rid you of yer problem.” Her sharp gaze turned on me. “Hugh Kellie might not be a merchant, but his farm always turns a decent profit.”
    “I tell you—” Mrs. Windham lifted both hands as if to push the idea away—“I shall not pay more than twenty for him. I do not like the man.”
    Miss Pitts’s mouth twisted, but she appealed to me. “What say you?”
    My mind whirled to comprehend this situation. Which was better—to take a husband, even a cottager, or to be banished to Scotland to nurse a bedridden woman? I felt myself flush scarlet as I confronted my dilemma, something I’d avoided brooding upon since learning that Edward had taken orders.
    I started to shake my head in confusion. Then the stubborn part of my personality that neither my father nor my vicar—nay, not even Mama—had ever managed to squash rose up, fierce and protective. My voice trembled with anger as I turned to Mrs. Windham. “I will marry a gentleman or not at all. How dare you invite this woman here!”
    Mrs. Windham’s mouth fell open. She tottered back a step, for she had never seen me in temper before.
    “Oh, a hoity-toity one, ain’t she? Holds her tongue, keeps her place, indeed.” Miss Pitts stood and placed her hand on a protruding hip bone, giving me a long, hard look before she turned and gathered her wet shawl from where it was hanging over the chair. “Not a penny to her name, but only a gent will do.Too high-and-mighty for charity? Well mebbe I’m too good to offer her my services!”
    Mrs. Windham gave a tittering laugh and hied from me to her. “Do not leave. I . . . I fear I made the mistake of mentioning Macy and Greenham on her first morning here.” Her mouth quivered as she laid her hand on Miss Pitts’s arm. “The child cherishes a notion of marrying one of them. It is a romantic fancy, nothing more. ’Tis all she speaks of. Mr. Greenham this, and Mr. Macy that, from dawn till dusk.”
    I opened my mouth in disbelief.
    “Ah, so you fancy her ladyship’s visitors, do you?” The visitor gave me a rude smile. “Aye, you and half of London are ready to seize those fortunes. But we must stay realistic.” As hastily as she’d taken up her shawl she put it down and retook her seat. She held out her hand, making known her wish for tea, which Mrs. Windham obliged.
    “’Tis the first rule.” Miss Pitts stirred sugar into the brew, never taking her eyes off me. “Why, even in this here village, most of the girls hope I can persuade one of Lord Auburn’s lads to wife ’em. Not that I wouldn’t fancy that young vicar at nights for myself, aye?” To my horror, she gave a ribald laugh, exposing her rotted teeth and gums. “Not one of my girls married that high yet, missy, but as yer good friend Mrs. Windham can attest, I’ve found right many of them proper husbands, and most of ’em robust young lads too. Not a ol’ man amongst