Chapter 2
I dismissed every guest who had not paid.
Those who had placed money in Linnea’s hand stayed.
Eleven people.
My father.
Rosamund.
And me.
No music.
No speeches.
No engagement toast.
I asked Linnea whether she wanted to leave.
She surprised everyone.
“No.”
Her voice shook.
But the word stayed upright.
“Why?”
She looked toward the eleven guests.
“Because tomorrow they’ll say I misunderstood.”
That answer embarrassed half the room.
Good.
I gave her the choice of another room.
She refused.
So I let her remain seated beside me.
Then I asked my father:
“When did this begin?”
Benedict smiled faintly.
“Before you were born.”
The House Purse.
An old Westcott tradition.
Not public.
Not at every dinner.
Only certain private gatherings.
A senior guest placed money in a servant’s palm and named a harmless command.
Sing.
Carry a ridiculous tray.
Wear an absurd hat.
At least that was how my father described it.
Then traditions decay.
Harmless becomes humiliating.
Humiliating becomes cruel.
By the time I was twenty, servants were being made to kneel, crawl, eat off kitchen floors, stand outside in winter.
I had seen enough once I took control.
Eight years ago, I banned it.
Completely.
My father called the decision sentimental.
I called it finished.
Apparently he disagreed.
“Why tonight?”
He looked around.
“Because you’re getting married.”
Not an answer.
Then Rosamund spoke.
“He wanted to know what kind of house you were building.”
My eyes moved toward her.
“Our engagement reception was an examination?”
She rubbed her ring.
“A demonstration.”
“For whom?”
The eleven bidders.
Old captains.
Old allies.
Men and women who thought my household rules reflected a larger weakness inside Westcott.
My father had revived the House Purse for one night.
Not secretly because he was ashamed.
Secretly because he wanted my reaction authentic.
If I tolerated it, the old guard would know I could be pressured back toward his methods.
If I stopped it—
They would know something else.
I looked at Benedict.
“You put a woman through this to measure whether I would protect her.”
He lifted his chin.
“Yes.”
May you like
I almost smiled.
“Then you’ve learned your answer.”
