“I refused a marriage I didn't want.”
He slammed the glass onto the table.
“You insulted the Caldwells!”
She flinched.
He approached.
“You destroyed an agreement that took months to arrange.”
Her eyes filled.
“An agreement about my life.”
He stopped.
Then laughed bitterly.
“Your life exists because I provided it.”
Elizabeth stared.
He continued.
“Your clothing, your education, your food, your horses, every privilege you've ever enjoyed.”
She took a trembling breath.
“I'm grateful for those things.”
“Then you should demonstrate gratitude.”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“By marrying someone who doesn't respect me?”
The judge's face twisted.
“Respect?”
He stepped closer.
“You think respect is something you demand from a man simply because you find yourself beautiful?”
Elizabeth went pale.
He continued.
“You have no understanding of the world. No income. No property of your own. No ability to maintain the lifestyle you've been given.”
She swallowed.
“Then perhaps I should learn.”
He laughed.
“Learn what?”
“To live without your money.”
For several seconds, he stared.
Then a terrible smile appeared.
“Very well.”
Elizabeth felt something cold move through her chest.
He turned toward the window.
“If you believe you're too proud to marry a wealthy gentleman, I'll arrange a husband suited to your newfound independence.”
She frowned.
“What are you saying?”
The judge looked back.
“You'll be married within seven days.”
Elizabeth stared.
“I won't.”
His smile widened.
“Oh, you will.”
He stepped toward the desk.
“And since you find the society of gentlemen so objectionable, perhaps a man from the stables will teach you what life is like without privilege.”
Elizabeth felt the room tilt.
Her father continued.
“I know plenty of men who would be grateful to marry a Hawthorne daughter.”
She shook her head.
“You can't force me to marry.”
He smiled coldly.
“Then refuse. Leave this house without money, without references, and without the family name whose protection you've enjoyed.”