Inside the Abernathy house, specifically his uncle's den, Henry hit the balls with his cue on the pool table, "Why are you even in this country, Uncle? You haven't committed any crime, have you?"
"No, Henry. I might not have been your father's choice for your aunt's husband, but even he can attest to my lack of criminal record." Reginald scoffs.
Henry sighs, "So why are you here? Why are you panning for gold when Auntie's dowry should financially secure you, her, and any children from your union?"
Reginald sipped his scotch. He couldn't tell Henry. He'd only tell Beatrice, and Beatrice would kill him for spending the dowry, money that was meant to pay for the upkeep of their home, maybe pay for household restorations and maybe buy things, like wool to make a little hat and booties for a bouncing baby.
A baby he promised Beatrice would have if he hadn't been selfish.
"It wouldn't kill to add to the Abernathy fortune, lad." Reginald lied.
Henry rested his chin on his cue, "Then why not open a business, rent a room, sell some things? Why pan for something that you won't find?"
Reginald sighed, "You, dear boy, are the bearer of good news, aren't you?"
"Uncle, I'm being realistic. How will finding yellow rocks in a penal colony's river add to the Abernathy fortune?"
Reginald tutted, "I think you should go and change. We have the Montague dinner tonight, and I'd like you to step away from this pessimistic attitude. You might scare away a potential bride."
"Why does everyone think I will marry a Montague? I have not met any of the daughters except for that rude one."
Reginald smiled, "A-ha! So you met a Montague! Which one?"
"Blonde."
"Half of the Montague girls are blonde, Henry. The mother is blonde, as are the eldest, the third and fifth girls." Reginald quipped, taking another sip of his scotch before refilling the glass and topping up Henry's as a goodwill gesture.
"She was with Mr and Mrs Montague and a brunette girl too," Henry added, siping his Uncle's scotch.
"Probably the eldest one." Reginald guessed.
Henry sighed, "Miss Montague. She had the nerve to insult me. She picked up the creature."
Reginald sips his refilled glass before speaking, "Henry, if I may offer you some advice..."
"Don't?" Henry suggests. Reginald shakes his head.
"Never doubt a woman's word because a lot of the time, she's right."
Henry nodded. His mother raised him to respect women's words and to agree with them even if he was in the right. It was important for the women in his life to feel and be heard, seen, listened to, and respected as equals, not as extensions of men.
"Why are we even attending this dinner tonight?" Henry asks.
Sir Reginald sighs, "Maybe Mrs Montague wants you to court one of her girls?"
Henry sucks his teeth, "God help me then if she wants me to court that hellion of an eldest daughter."
"She might surprise you, lad. Your aunt surprised me when we were courting. She told a friend she wouldn't even dare court a man, let alone marry, and here she is, married after several months of courtship." Sir Reginald chuckles
"Now, come along, nephew. We have a dinner to attend to." Sir Reginald gently pats his nephew's back as they exit the room and dress for dinner.
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YOU ARE READING
Striking Gold
Historical FictionIt's 1852, and the Australian Gold Rush has begun. Hilda Montague loves Australia, the country she's lived in since birth. Henry Brookshaw despises it, the country he's been sent to by his widower father to spend the summer with his aunt and uncle...
