A Breath of Snow and Ashes - Diana Gabaldon [374]
I collect that Miss Christie, while equally attractive, has a Father who may be somewhat more difficult of Persuasion, and her social Situation is somewhat higher than that of Miss Wemyss. Still, should Miss Wemyss or her father decline Mr. Higgins’s Offer, I will do my Best, with your Assistance, to devise some Inducement that might appeal to Mr. Christie.
What think you of this Plan of Attack? I beg you to consider the Prospects carefully, and if you feel that the Proposal might be received favorably, to broach the Matter to Mr. Wemyss and his Daughter—if possible, with such Discretion as not to prejudice a secondary Expedition, should that prove necessary.
Mr. Higgins is most sensible of his inferior Position, viewed as a potential Groom, and thus most conscious of the Favor he seeks, as is
Your most humble and obedient Servant,
John Grey
“. . . such other small Impediments to the Marriage as might present themselves,” I read, over Jamie’s shoulder. “Like being a convicted murderer with a brand on his cheek, no family, and no money, do you think he means?”
“Aye, like that,” Jamie agreed, straightening out the sheets of paper and tapping the edges straight. He was clearly amused by Lord John’s letter, but his brows had drawn together, though I didn’t know whether this was a sign of concern over Lord John’s news about Willie, or merely concentration on the delicate question of Bobby Higgins’s proposal.
The latter, evidently, for he glanced upward, toward the room that Lizzie and her father shared. No sound of movement came through the ceiling, though I’d seen Joseph go upstairs a little earlier.
“Asleep?” Jamie asked, eyebrows raised. He looked involuntarily at the window. It was mid-afternoon, and the yard was cheerfully awash in mellow light.
“Common symptom of depression,” I said, with a small shrug. Mr. Wemyss had taken the dissolution of Lizzie’s betrothal hard—much more so than had his daughter. Frail-looking to begin with, he had noticeably lost weight, and had withdrawn into himself, speaking only when spoken to, and becoming increasingly hard to rouse from sleep in the mornings.
Jamie struggled momentarily with the concept of depression, then dismissed it with a brief shake of the head. He tapped the stiff fingers of his right hand thoughtfully on the table.
“What d’ye think, Sassenach?”
“Bobby’s a lovely young man,” I said dubiously. “And Lizzie obviously likes him.”
“And if the Wemysses were still indentured, Bobby’s proposal would likely have some appeal,” Jamie agreed. “But they’re not.” He had given Joseph Wemyss his papers of indenture some years earlier, and Brianna had hastily freed Lizzie from her own bond nearly as soon as it was made. That was not a matter of public knowledge, though, since Joseph’s presumed status as a bondsman protected him from service in the militia. Likewise, as a bondmaid, Lizzie benefited from Jamie’s overt protection, as she was considered his property; no one would dare to trouble her or treat her with open disrespect.
“Perhaps he’d be willing to engage them as paid servants,” I suggested. “Their combined salary would likely be a good deal less than the price of two indentures.” We paid Joseph, but his salary was only three pounds a year, though with room, board, and clothing supplied.
“I will suggest as much,” Jamie said, but with an air of dubiousness. “But I’ll have to speak with Joseph.” He glanced upward once more, and shook his head.
“Speaking of Malva . . .” I said, glancing across the hall and lowering my voice. She was in the surgery, straining liquid