“I don’t need to defend my degree to you or to anyone else,” Alton said, the crimson creeping up his neck. “The difference is that I use my degree. You need to face the fact. It’s time to move home, stop playing student, and get married.”

“This isn’t 1920, 1950, or even 1980! I don’t need to marry.”

“Dear, calm down.”

I blinked my eyes hoping that if I did it enough times the scene in front of me would change. “I’m not saying I’ll never marry. I’m saying I’m only twenty-three years old.”

“You’ll be twenty-four soon enough, and weddings take time. To really do it right, we’ll need at least a year to plan.” Mother lowered her voice. “We don’t want people thinking you had to get married.”

My head began to twitch. The world was jumpy, like an old television that had difficulty keeping a signal. “You are saying I have to get married. It may not be because of pregnancy, but what you’re discussing is a shotgun wedding nevertheless.”

“No one is putting a gun to your head. Stop being so dramatic,” Alton said dismissively as he stood and refilled his tumbler of Cognac.

I stood with a huff and paced back and forth in front of the large windows, my palms clenching and unclenching. Finally, I turned. “You said clauses. What clauses?”

“We can discuss that tomorrow.”

“No, we can discuss it today.”

Raising his chin, Alton’s eyes closed. “Hmm. I don’t have the wording memorized exactly, but there’s a clause about education. Undergraduate is specifically mentioned. Thankfully, Ralph was reviewing the document and found it.”

Thankfully?

“So you’re saying that it was intended to pay for my undergraduate degree, but not postgraduate? And you’re telling me after my first semester has been paid?”

“It was an oversight, dear.” She looked to Alton and back to me. “We discussed it at some length. It all became more pressing when Bryce’s incident became public.”

“You want me to marry Bryce. I don’t even have a say in who I marry?”

“It’s a matter of name. The Carmichael name and Montague, it’s a match made in blue-blood heaven. Your grandfather would approve.”

“Re-appropriated?” I asked Alton. “My money has been re-appropriated to where?”

“Again, the wording escapes me. However, the intended reasoning was for your focus, following college, to be on Montague. If you refuse to honor your obligation, in your absence the funds remaining in the trust revert back to the estate.”

I stared in disbelief. “To you. To both of you. You have my money available to you and you’re not giving it to me? Mother, you’re holding my education hostage so I’ll become you? Is that what you really want? You want to see me in an unhappy arranged marriage and not fulfill my dream?”

“Dear, we all have dreams. That’s what sleep is for. Life has responsibilities. Your responsibility is to Montague.” She reached for Alton’s hand and squeezed. They’d put on the performance for so long, they probably believed it themselves—when they weren’t arguing. “My marriage isn’t unhappy. Marriage takes work and compromise…”

I stopped listening to her before she began. Instead, I was preoccupied doing mental math. I had a few accounts and credit cards. I didn’t want to be in debt, but maybe if I could start class, and find a job, I could look into student loans. I’d never had a job or needed credit, but surely, a law student at Columbia was a good credit risk.

“…coming for dinner tonight. He wanted to see you.”

I turned my attention back to my mother. “Repeat that.”

“He wants to see you.”

“He, as in Bryce?”

“Well, yes. Whom else would I be talking about?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” she asked.

I walked toward the archway. “No. I have one semester. I’m taking it.”

“Alexandria,” Alton said, “technically, we could withdraw the payment for this semester. It was made in error.”

I swallowed my pride and concentrated on my mother. Moving to her, I knelt beside her knees and reached for her hand. “Momma, give me the one semester. Let me try to do this. I’m not saying I’ll never marry. Let me do what you never could.”

When she started to look at Alton, I squeezed her hand. “I am a Montague. You are a Montague. If you support me, no one can stop it.”

Her chin dropped as she exhaled. “No more money.”

“I have some cash. I’ll get a job.”

Tears moistened her blue eyes. “You’re so strong.”

I wasn’t. I was scared to death. I also wasn’t going to be railroaded into a lifetime sentence.

“This is a waste of your time and money,” Alton repeated his case. “If you do the sensible thing and withdraw from classes, we’ll let you keep the tuition.”

I straightened myself, stood tall, and pulled my shoulders back. “Say that again.”

“If you do the sensible thing, we’ll let you keep the tuition.”

I smirked and looked at Adelaide. “Did you hear that?” Before she could answer, I continued, “That tuition money is mine. I want to use it for Columbia.”

“What about your rent? What about other expenses?”

“I’ll find a job.”

Alton scoffed while my mother shook her head. Finally, she said, “Montague women aren’t meant for jobs. We’re meant for carrying on the name.”

“What name? My grandfather put this archaic clause in my trust fund and he was the one who let the name end. There are no more Montagues. Forever, it’s destined to be a middle name.”

“Alexandria Charles Montague Collins, whether it’s a middle name or not, Montague blood runs through your veins as strongly as Collins blood. It doesn’t matter if it’s passed on by a female or male, you are heir to one of the most prominent families this state or nation has ever known.”

I shook my head. “Bravo, Mother. If you’re right that it doesn’t matter, then make the decision. Give me one semester, because the way I feel right now, I’m not discussing this calmly over dinner with Bryce. I’m not marrying Bryce, and I’m not moving home. I’m leaving Montague Manor today with or without your blessing. If you ever want me to return, my leaving and one semester will be with your blessing.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “The choice is yours.”

“Laide, we discussed our daughter’s ploys.”

“I am not your daughter!” I snapped.

Faster than I knew he could move, Alton stood and his open palm slapped my cheek.

Stunned, I took a step back. Turning to my mother I asked, “What do you say?”

MY HANDS SHOOK as I got into the backseat of the taxi outside of Montague Manor. “To the airport.”

I didn’t say another word to the driver as he drove the long oak-lined drive. I couldn’t form words, not in coherent sentences. I’d done well, in my opinion, during the confrontation. It was afterward, in my room with Jane, that I lost it.

Jane told me that Brantley would drive me wherever I wanted to go, but I didn’t trust him. She was the only one I trusted at Montague Manor. I sucked in my breath and clenched my teeth together when the taxi reached the gate. I wouldn’t have put it past Alton to have the watchman stop the taxi. It wasn’t until we were free of the grounds of the estate that I remembered to breathe. Sitting silently, with my Montague head held high, I watched the passing landscape as we drove into Savannah. This driver wasn’t on Alton’s payroll, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be bought. I didn’t want him to know where I was truly going.

I’d left the manor in too much of a hurry to book a flight. Besides it was Sunday, and the Savannah airport wasn’t that big. Sunday evening departures were few and far between. My plan was to be dropped at the airport and then take another taxi to a nearby hotel. I would find an early morning flight or I’d rent a car and drive to Atlanta. I didn’t care, as long as it was away from Montague Manor.