Gwen was utterly confused.
Was she truly the entity of discussion?
Why did the room continually fall into silence?
Who was the Duke that drew so much bone of contention?!
Someone coughed lightly. "Lord Cossington, the young lady remains the same that was spoken of here on this contract. Guinevere. Except you mean to break the contract, she remains the same."
So it was her they were discussing.
"No, she doesn't." It was the voice of the older man again. "It is clearly stated in the contracts except you, Fitzgerald hopes to blind me with lies."
"Lord Cossington!"
"My son was promised Guinevere! The daughter of a Duke, with fortune and a great title, not the daughter of a poor land baron, who's scrapping food together and can barely get by. Or do you suppose it is not known to the ton of your falling out of the little wealth you have?"
Silence fell on the room again, gaining length by the passing seconds.
Gwen could hear herself breathing. She could hear her breathing, and it was irregular. Their words made no sense. Surely they did not speak of her? Surely she was not the Guinevere being discussed and referred to as a Duke's daughter? It couldn't be.
And what was it about his wealth? For certain, her father was not so down in fortune as has been said, was he? What of the contract? Could it no longer be honoured because of her family's fortune? She leaned heavily on the pillar, this time, for support. Their words made no sense. Or had she been the fool all along? Had age let her family fool her all her life?
Gwen was young, the youngest of her parents' children but she was not as innocent or clueless as they thought or wished her to be. Although she loved playing the piano, and dashing around the house, she was very intelligent. She wouldn't read if it wasn't necessary or if it didn't for the moment hold her interest but she could make perfect conversation even at her age and bring words with perfect relations to a discussion.
She was not being made a fool of, was she? Did her family think she was too young and decided to make her a fool?
"I assure you, Lord Cossington," her father's voice came up once again. "the state of my fortune has nothing to do with my daughter nor with her dowry."
"Your daughter you call her, not the daughter of the Duke."
"You know the reason for why she is now called my daughter." He defended, sounding exasperated. "Lord Cossington_"
"This discussion is through, Fitzgerald." A sound of a hand slapping the tea table reverberated to the halls. "The reason for which she is now your daughter is the same for which she would not be my daughter-in-law. This contract is off!"
She was being rejected!
Gwen's breath caught.
She had been rejected!
She inhaled deeply and exhaled in an equal manner, trying to stabilize her breathing routine. She was being rejected after being disregarded as her father's child. Why was she being disregarded as her father's child by everyone in the room, including her father? Was she not a true Fitzgerald? Was she not the daughter of Radclyffe and Victoria Fitzgerald? If not, whose daughter was she?
She was without a marriage prospect. She was without a family.
'Who was she?!' She questioned, a small prang of pain lay on her chest.
The door remained slightly ajar, but instead of holding onto it as before, Beth leaned on the wall and Gwen saw the tears. Her sister was crying.
The sorrow was there, and Gwen felt Beth's sorrow for it was the same as hers. Overwhelming, yet depressing. It laid on her chest, seeming to, with force, press down all the joy that made her who she was. It was stealing what she stood for, and consuming her in the process.
A sad chuckle escaped her lips. It was unbelievable that she should be sad when until the previous day, she had no inkling of the existence of a marriage contract drawn in her honour. Although she had been out many times with her family, she had never meant the young man she was betrothed to. Why then was she hurt by their rejection? Why was she pained that he didn't want her? Why was it crushing her soul?
"The contract was rendered invalid a long time ago, it was your greed that caused us to revisit it."
"Your words are harsh." Eric said softly.
"And it would remain as it should, so you paupers can understand your standing in society." She heard that other voice again. Geoffrey's voice.
"Geoffrey, I shall not reprimand you anymore. You should learn to be kind with your words even if the other party is not deserving of it." His father rebuked him.
"Yes, Father.'
Not deserving? Gwen scoffed quietly. Her father and her brother were not deserving of kind words? She was not deserving of kind words? The Cossingtons were unkind. She had been momentarily rejected and an age-long contract had been condemned, why then do they continue to insult and humiliate?
"I suppose the reason for this meeting has been nullified." This time, it was her father who spoke. "Thank you for making your way here to Westside Manor."
He was politely ushering them out.
It was done with.
'She was no more betrothed to the heir of Sorway? Her engagement was no more? Would she now be paraded when she attained the age of eighteen in the London season?' She wondered.
Shaking her head, she caught herself. She was thinking in a different direction. A wrong direction.
Their conversation was one of confusion. She had come from her room to gain knowledge, but instead ended up with even greater questions. Was she not the daughter of Radclyffe Fitzgerald? Was she truly the daughter of a Duke? What happened to her father, her family?
Sadness washed over her. Was she indeed not the sister of Eric and Beth? She did not belong in Westside Manor? Even as her thoughts travelled far and wide, she heard the voice of the Viscount.
"Fitzgerald, I do have a preposition if you would agree, it would benefit us both."
Keenly, she paid attention, as did Beth who swiftly grabbed again unto the door, listening, waiting for good news.
"Seeing the marriage cannot be forwarded_"
He was interrupted. "You mean as you have rejected my sister."
"Eric." This time it was her father reprimanding her brother.
"Leave the boy be, he speaks only from emotions, but when you succeed your father and become Lord of this dingy estate, you would realize that emotions do nothing, wealth does."
How cruel!
"What is your preposition then, Lord Cossington?" Her father spoke tightly as though his teeth were clenched together. He seemed to have become more exasperated. Why did the Cossingtons speak with such unkindness?!
Silence.
Then, "Someday, my son would one day marry another,_"
"Hurrah to you, then." Eric interrupted, his tone ringing deep with mockery.
Lord Cossington did not stop. "_one with wealth and class, something you are lacking."
Gwen couldn't help the sad scoff. They were perfectly unkind and rude. How did her family think to marry her to such a family? Was it because she was not a Fitzgerald? She knew now that she wasn't. Or was it to give her to the highest bidder, someone who could rescue the family in dire straits?
Then why her? It could not be for fortune, could it? For if the family was in dire straits, then Beth's hand would have been out in marriage. She raised her head and looked at Beth who remained by the door, quiet and careful. How could she remain like so, Gwen wondered, when she was in disarray, scared of what to think and who to trust anymore?
The Viscount continued. "He would marry someone of note in the society." Silence. Everyone was waiting. "The girl, your daughter, is young, I am aware, but in a few years, she will become a woman, and even though she cannot be my son's wife, I believe they might share other alliances, as they both deserve to be happy."
Beth put her hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with some sort of knowledge. Gwen remained confused. What was happening? What hidden message was in Lord Cossington's speech.
A short silence.
"What then, is your preposition?"
Lord Cossington took his time. "It would be befitting of her status as your daughter and it would greatly benefit the family. You, for certain, could achieve much with the fortune acquired." Pause. "I believe you know what I speak of."
"I do not. Out with it, if you will." Her father urged. He was beginning to sound angry.
He cleared his throat. "Gwen, she is called; she seems like a good child after all and deserves to be cared for." Another short pause. "I suppose she can be my son's mistress." Gwen exhaled sharply. Lord Cossington continued. "Not now, of course, when she is of age. She would gain wealth, and Geoffrey would not be bored in his marriage. But you must know that whatever sons she might bear for him can never be the heirs to Sorway."
Gwen gasped. She was beyond shocked.