Maybe. But she did not trust in maybes. And she knew that men had short attention spans.
‘How long?’ she finally rasped. ‘How long must I wait? How long before you dower me?’ Assuming he dowered her at all.
Her father sighed and looked away from her. She recognised the look. He was calculating things in his head, and she had to wait while he weighed her worth like pebbles on a scale. In that moment, she hated him for doing this to her. But she had no other option.
Finally, he decided. ‘One year,’ he said. ‘We will arrive in London in time for a Season. Grace will come out first, of course. That will be her time. Yours will be the next year. That is the way things are done in England. The eldest goes first.’
It was the same in China, but it didn’t make sense. ‘Grace does not want a husband. I do.’
‘Grace may change her mind. She cannot run the riggings forever. She must grow up, as well.’
‘But she doesn’t want—’
‘One year, Lucy. If he loves you, he will wait.’