“Your father and I had nothing in common, and look at us,” she said, giving me the side-eye over her coffee cup.
“Well, I’d be happy to find a man like Papa if I had a mind to marry,” I said. “But as far as Lord Boredington goes, there isn’t enough money in all the world that would make me want to marry him.” I couldn’t help laughing at my own joke. Someone had to laugh, because my mother didn’t seem to find it amusing in the least.
“Of course you’re going to marry, Cruella. And do stop making up insulting names for people.”
“Yes, Mother.” But she couldn’t sway me.
I had set myself against the idea of marriage long before. It had become quite clear to me that I hated being told what to do. I wanted to be independent. “No man worth his salt will be willing to let his children take his wife’s name, Mother,” I said.
“Well, my dear Cruella, if you find a rich enough husband like Lord Silverton then you won’t have to worry about that.” I couldn’t believe she was suggesting I go against my papa’s wishes.
“I made a promise to Papa. That’s the end of it, Mother. If I ever do get married, and I doubt I ever will, I will not take his name.” Mother closed her diary and tapped it with her pen.
“Well, Cruella, the Queen didn’t take her husband’s name, and look how that’s turned out. Do you want to live your life resented by your husband?”
I laughed.
“Well, Mother, that’s one of the reasons I don’t intend to marry.” I thought on it. “And the Queen gets to be the Queen. If I got to be queen, being resented by my husband is a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.”
“That’s cheeky, Cruella, even for you.”
Just then Lord Boringpants came into the dining room. “Well, that is disappointing news, Lady Cruella,” he said, smiling at me in a way he obviously thought was dashing. “But I bet I can change your mind. I think your mother is in possession of an invitation from my own, inviting you to our estate for the weekend.” He was beaming, way too chipper for someone who hadn’t had their coffee yet. I imagined myself married to this relentlessly happy man and it made my stomach churn.
“Oh, I don’t know, Lord Silverton,” I said, but he pressed on.
“It will be the most topping weekend, Lady Cruella. I know you won’t be able to say no to my proposal once you see your future home.” I thought my mother was going to jump out of her seat and start dancing the jig right there on the dining room table. (Not that she would ever do such a thing, but honestly, I have never seen her that happy in my life.)
“Cruella!” she crowed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Silverton proposed. Jackson, bring the champagne!” I just sat there, drinking my coffee and laughing.
“Jackson, don’t bother. We won’t be needing the champagne.” My mother’s face fell lower than one of Mrs. Baddeley’s failed soufflés.
“Cruella! Must you always be such a beast? You’ve not even given Lord Silverton a chance.” The fact was Lord Stuffypants hadn’t even proposed. But he was quite transparent in his desire to. Didn’t he understand women like a bit of mystery?
“Don’t fret, Lady De Vil,” Lord Blunderpants said, sweeping his Prince Charming hair out of his face. “I haven’t proposed, not yet. I plan to after I woo her with the grandest of weekends at my parents’ estate. I know she won’t be able to say no.”
“I couldn’t possibly go, Lord Silverton. We have far too many obligations already. I couldn’t possibly put them off. It would be rude.”
“Oh, I could call them all, Cruella. Just leave that to me,” my mother said. “You have your weekend with Lord Silverton.” I was painted into a corner. I couldn’t get out of it without being rude, and I feared I could only push things so far with my mother. I had no other choice.
“Lord Silverton, I would love nothing more than to accept your invitation,” I said without emotion.
“Oh, this is so topping, Lady Cruella! I’m going to call Mother and tell her you’re coming.”
I smiled and boldly took his hand. “I had no idea you were so progressive, Lord Silverton. I never imagined you would be the sort of man who wouldn’t mind taking his wife’s name.” For the first time since his arrival, Lord Silverton’s smile faded.
“What’s that, Lady Cruella?” he asked. “I’m sure I must have heard you incorrectly.” I smirked at my mother.
“No, Lord Silverton, I’m afraid you heard me correctly. You see, my papa’s last wish was that I keep my family name. I am the last of the De Vil line.” Lord Silverton looked thoroughly disappointed, and a little frightened. He had all but proposed, and I could see his wheels spinning, wondering if I was going to make him stick to his word. I didn’t mind watching him squirm a little longer before I let him off the hook.
“Well, Mother would never allow it,” he said, fidgeting. “Are you absolutely sure, Lady Cruella? Is there no way around it?”
I looked down, feigning that I was terribly disappointed.
“I’m afraid there isn’t.” And then I took a gamble. “Well, I do suppose there is one way around it,” I said, looking up at him with sad eyes. “I could give up my inheritance. But I suppose that wouldn’t matter to a great family like yours.” Lord Silverton’s expression turned to something else entirely. The brilliant, smiling facade was replaced by anger and frustration. I had heard his family had been struggling to keep up their estate, and they were considering selling off some of the land to keep it going. It was a miracle they had held on to that mammoth of an albatross as long as they had. I had seen so many families brought to ruin by simply trying to hold on to their family’s enormous, burdensome estates. The last ditch effort was always marrying money. And I had calculated correctly.
“Ah, I just remembered, I have to catch the next train. . . .”
I patted Lord Penniless on the hand.