Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories
"Will you go on speaking without the mask, Mr Garstang?" she said,
coldly; and she heard his teeth grit together, as he literally scowled
at her now, with a look full of threats for the future.
"I am your slave, I suppose," he said, bitterly; but she remained
standing.
"I wish to continue talking to Mr Garstang, the lawyer," she said,
coldly. "If this is to continue it is a waste of words."
He threw himself back in his chair, and she resumed hers.
"Now, sir, you are a solicitor, and learned in these matters; can you
draw up some paper which will mean the full surrender of my fortune to
you? and this I will sign if you set me at liberty."
"No," he said, quietly, "I can not draw up such a paper."
"Why?"
"Because it would be utterly without value."
"Very well, then, there must be some way by which I can buy my liberty.
The money will be mine when I come of age."
"Yes, there is one way," he said, gazing at her intently.
"What is that, sir?"
"By signing the marriage register."
"That I shall never do," she said, rising slowly. "Once more, Mr
Garstang, I tell you that this money is valueless to me, and that I am
ready to give it to you for my liberty."
"And I tell you the simple truth--that you talk like the foolish child
you are. You cannot give away that which you do not possess. It is in
the keeping of your uncle, and the law would not allow you to give it
away like that."
"Does the law allow you to force me to be your wife, that you may, as
my husband, seize upon it?"
"The law will let you consent to be my wife," he said, wincing slightly
at her words.
"I have told you my decision," she said, coldly.
"Temporary decision," he said, smiling.
"And," she continued, "I shall wait until your reason has shown you that
we are not living in the days of romance. Your treatment would be
horrible in its baseness if it were not ridiculous. I own that I was
frightened at first, but a night's calm thought has taught me how I
stand, has given me strength of mind, and I shall wait."
"And so shall I," he said, gazing at her angrily as he leaned forward;
but she did not shrink from his eyes, meeting them with calm
contemptuous indifference; and he sprang up at last with an angry oath.
"Once more, Kate," he said, "understand this: you must and shall be my
wife. You may try and set me at defiance, shut yourself up in your
room, and keep on making efforts to escape, but all is in vain. I
weighed all this well before I put my plans in execution. You hear me?"
"Every word," she said, coldly. "Now hear me, Mr Garstang. I shall
never consent to be your wife."
"We shall see that," he cried.
"I shall not shut myself up in my room, and I shall make no further
attempt to leave this house. It would be too ridiculous. Sooner or
later my uncle will trace me, and call you to account. I shall keep
nothing back, and if he thinks proper to prosecute you for what you have
done I shall be his willing witness."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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