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Mr. Prodmore’s face closed up, defensive. “You don’t know everything if you don’t know my interest—considerable as it might have struck you—has just ceased to exist. I’ve given it up for a handsome equivalent.” The implication hung heavy in the air, no need to name the equivalent: Captain Yule, the son-in-law he’d been planning to attach Cora to for months, the social standing he’d been chasing for years.
“Won’t it depend a little on what your daughter herself calls him, in the end?”
“No. That will be between the happy pair.” He was smug, certain of his victory, tapping the massive gold watch in his pocket. “It’s my assured conviction that she’s accepting him while we stand here.”
The cruelty of the statement made Mrs. Gracedew’s smile fade for a second; she turned away, pacing a few steps to collect herself, before floating back, her composure restored, her tone soft and persuasive. “Dear Mr. Prodmore, why are you so imprudent as to make your daughter afraid of you? You should have taught her to confide in you. She has clearly shown me that she can confide. Let me suggest you follow her good example. Tell me, for instance, the ground of your objection to poor Mr. Hall Pegg, the Bellborough man, Granny’s godson, associate of his father in their flourishing mercantile business, to whom Miss Prodmore is devotedly attached.”
Mr. Prodmore had sunk into the nearest high-backed chair during her speech, his face gone purple with shock. “It has gone so far as that?”
“It has gone so far that you had better let it go the rest of the way!” Mrs. Gracedew’s voice rose with urgency. “You’ve plotted to keep her in the dark, but it’s only when you’re kept in the dark that your daughter’s kept in the light! It’s at her own earnest request that I plead to you for her liberty of choice. She’s an honest girl, not a baby to be bullied. You overdo the nursing. She has a perfect right to her preference.”
Mr. Prodmore huffed, offended, like she’d insulted his parenting. “And pray haven’t I a perfect right to mine?”
“Not at her expense. You expect her to give up too much, for the sake of your pride. What has she expected you to give up but the desire of your heart and the dream of your life? Captain Yule announced his intention to offer her his hand only minutes ago, but if he does, he’ll simply find she won’t have it.”
“She will!” Mr. Prodmore sprang to his feet, making for the stairs to find Cora and force the issue himself.
Mrs. Gracedew was there before him, barring his way with a gentle but unyielding hand on his chest, her face set with sudden, unexpected passion. “She shan’t!” They faced each other like enemies for a heartbeat, before her face softened into a bright, winsome smile, all warmth again. “Now tell me how much.”
He stood frozen, bewildered, before turning away to hide the conflict in his expression. “How can I tell you anything so preposterous?”
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