The longer she considered, the more certain she felt that her father, despite the advantages that might accrue to him as a result of her marriage, would not want her to be utterly unhappy in her match.  He was not a cruel man; he loved her, in his way.  Not as he did her younger brother and only son, of course, but that was hardly to be expected.  But enough that if she spoke to him, he would at least listen. 

She would go to him.  She would explain her misgivings, Douglas’ seeming irresolution, Edwy’s apparent worth…and Murrow?  Should she mention Murrow?  Or wait?  Suggesting a different match right away might backfire.  While it was likely that Lord Garland would be more amenable to breaking off the engagement if an alternative, more pleasing to his daughter but still beneficial to himself, if not quite so advantageous, were available, if she made the suggestion immediately, Lord Garland might feel that she was headstrong or ungrateful…perhaps it would be better —

“I see you are finally making progress on that shift, daughter.”

Elsbeth barely kept herself from jumping.  Looking up, she saw that the day was far gone.  Her mother’s women had departed; the room was quiet, empty but for the two of them.  “Yes, my lady.” 

“That is well.”  Her mother’s hands smoothed the shirt in her own lap.  “We will have the wedding as soon as may be arranged.”

Elsbeth looked up, trying to hide her alarm.  “But…I thought…there would be some time yet.”

Her mother lifted one shoulder in a graceful half-shrug.  She was Ragoni by birth; the courtliest ladies in the Three Lands, it was said, were found in Ragonne.  Elsbeth usually felt like an old stump beside her.  “You are eighteen, daughter.” 

“But — “ Elsbeth said again.

Her mother’s gaze, cool and curious, turned upon her.

“Why soon?”  Elsbeth said. 

Her mother’s eyes did not move.  Elsbeth had to school herself not to wriggle under her inquisitorial stare.  “Delay is unnecessary.  It might also be unwise.  There are — rumblings — to the north.  Largely rumors at present, but your father is concerned.  If trouble is coming to Elbany, it would be best to have the marriage settled quickly.”

“Or,” Elsbeth swallowed.  Her mother, even more so than her father, brooked dissension badly.  Lady Garland always appeared more approachable than Lord Garland — she never raised her voice, never seemed out of either temper or patience — but Elsbeth could count on one hand the number of times she had challenged her mother and won.  “It might be better to wait until afterward.  If trouble is coming.  Fewer distractions.  Focus on the…problem…hardly the time to celebrate a wedding…”  Knowing she was babbling, Elsbeth bit down hard against the further torrent of words that wanted to plunge out, and gave her mother a quick, tight smile. 

Lady Garland slowly raised one imperious eyebrow.  “What are you saying, daughter?”