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“I never knew Joshua Winterton was a yachtsman.”
Enid watched Oscar stride around the deck with the enthusiasm of a boy on his way to a sporting match. He only staggered a few times with the boat’s swaying, and he recovered gracefully, making the motion look almost intentional. “He was when he was younger,” she replied. “In his later years, he would occasionally come out here with friends and sit on the deck to watch the other yachts race. I think he simply couldn’t bring himself to sell it.”
Oscar peered up into the rigging. “I don’t blame him! She’s a lovely boat.”
“I never knew you were a yachtsman,” Enid noted. She stayed next to the railing, holding it firmly while the deck moved under her. She’d not been on boats often in her life and was never quite certain what she thought of them. If Oscar were keen on them, she supposed she’d best make up her mind on that point.
“I’m not,” he admitted. “Although not for lack of wishing. My family never had one, though. Mama gets dreadfully seasick and Papa considered yachts frivolous.” He gave her a serious look that was ruined by a smirk. “We couldn’t have anything frivolous about.”
She opened her mouth to ask how he hadn’t been disowned, but stopped herself at the last minute, some sixth sense telling her the joke would cause more harm than humor. Instead she said, “I feel sorry for your mother. I can only imagine what her dresses must have looked like!”
“Oh, there’s nothing frivolous about dresses!” Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, Oscar walked to the bow. Turning to face her, he leaned back on the railing. “A wealthy man’s wife must be dressed well, you see, or people will think he’s hiding some financial embarrassment. Mama had all of the best clothes, carefully packed in trunks until they were far enough out of fashion to be respectable.”
“I never understood the Knickerbockers,” Enid shook her head, bemused. She carefully walked around the edge of the deck to lean next to him, looking out over the water. A seagull looked back at her. “What is the point of being wealthy if you don’t do anything to entertain yourself with that money?”
“We entertained ourselves. After all, we went to all of the best dinners, and we did have a box at the Academy,” Oscar pointed out. “Our life wasn’t a desert. But truly, I agree with you.” He leaned back again, gazing at the sky, far enough she was afraid his hat might fall off. “I’ve always wanted a yacht.”
“If you never had one, have you learned how to sail?”
There was a moment’s pause, followed by a decisive, “No.” He turned his head and grinned at her. “We’ll have to hire a captain until I can learn.”
A trickle of caution worked its way through her. True, she had more money than she had ever dreamed, but fortunes could be lost. He had proven that. And while she knew that without connections and a respectable, respected name she would fade back into obscurity, she’d be just as doomed without money. Trying to keep her voice light and joking, and maybe just a touch arch, she said, “You’re being awfully free with my money, Mr. van Rhijn.”
“Your money?” he asked, turning his entire body to face her. His tone was quizzical, and perhaps a touch hurt. “Won’t it be our money, once we’re married? I certainly didn’t plan on holding my earnings apart from yours.”
“Perhaps.” Enid considered carefully. She didn’t want to offend him, of course, but he was a fortune hunter, and determinedly frivolous, as if in spite of his late father. Under the circumstances, how the money worked seemed like something they should have pinned down before their wedding day. She was, at her core, practical, and he would have to get used to it. “But it seems more likely that you will spend money I brought into the relationship than the other way around.”
He switched tactics, turning up the charm and asking in an almost boyish manner, “Then perhaps you’d be so generous as to give me an allowance until our…financial contribution…are more evenly matched, so I don’t fritter away everything in my frivolous pursuits?”
Whatever reaction she’d expected, she hadn’t expected that. Allowances were, as a rule, things given to women and children by their wealthy husbands or fathers. The idea of giving her husband an allowance…that was more than respect. That was power. “All right,” she agreed, her lips curling upward at the thought. “We can discuss the exact amount later. But I do expect you to keep working.”
This time her wounded air was clearly affected. “Of course! After all,” he locked eyes with her as he took her hand and kissed it, “not all of my pursuits are frivolous.”