Page 50 of The Scholar (Emerson Pass Historicals 3)

That made two of us.

“What’s making you smile that way?” Mother asked.

“Some of the old gang from school came down and made a bonfire.” I sat across from her and slipped my feet out of my shoes. “I had such fun.” I told her about the music and meeting the Hartmans. “The Olofsson boys were there. They had us all laughing. Poppy was there too. And she thinks Neil Hartman is handsome. I think Cymbeline might be jealous of Emma and Viktor.”

“Does she need to be?”

“I’m not sure. I think they’re only friends.” I sat forward in the chair. “Mother, Theo wants to marry me.”

She stared at me. “He asked you?”

“He said he would marry me tomorrow if he could but no, not formally. We talked about it more like a concept.”

“Do you want to marry him?” Mother asked.

“A marriage to Theo would solve all our problems.” I was too shy to say how much I cared for him or how my legs had weakened when he kissed me.

“I can’t let you do it just for me.”

“What if you get sick again? How would we pay for another surgery?”

She picked up her knitting. “If I thought you sacrificed yourself simply for me, I couldn’t bear it. What kind of mother lets her daughter marry only for money to save the family?”

“Daughters have been doing this since the dawn of time.”

She went back to knitting, her needles making the familiar clicking sound. “There’s no finer man.”

“True. He’s kind and gentle and generous.” I plucked the pins from my hair and let it cascade down my back. My scalp ached from where the hair had been pulled particularly tight. Thinking of marrying Theo was a bit like letting my hair out of its clips: freeing. “I feel things. A lot of things.”

“Like what?”

“Safe. Appreciated. Understood.”

“Those are all good feelings,” Mother said.

“I had fun tonight. It felt good to laugh.”

“You deserve to laugh.”

“Yes, a marriage would be good for you and me, but I wouldn’t do it just for that reason. He’s special, Mother.”

Mother’s brows raised. “That’s very good. Very good indeed.”

“He said he’d wait forever if he had to.” I smiled, remembering what he’d said about the longest courtship ever. I massaged my neck with the tips of my fingers. “I told him everything about what happened. Pa’s part in it. I wanted to make sure he knows what kind of woman he would be marrying.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pa’s blood runs through my veins. A man who would sell his own daughter’s body.”

“That man has nothing to do with who you are,” Mother said. “I don’t want you to ever think about that again.”

“Easier said than done.” I stood and leaned over to kiss her soft cheek. “Good night, Mother. Please try to get some sleep.”

“I will, dearest.”

In my room, I dropped to my knees to say my nightly prayers. A sudden sadness washed over me. Father had always said good night to me with the same request. Don’t forget to say your prayers.

“I won’t forget, Father,” I whispered. “Thank you for watching over me.”