He stretched his underlip with thumb and forefinger and let it snap back. "It could be as good for a man with a job like mine, if he had a half interest in a place like this to begin with. I'd jump at it just like you did."
Wesley was amazed and chilled. "You'd marry for convenience?"
"Sure," Charlie said. "There's no percentage in this romance stuff."
He went on in sudden confessional candor: "Most women figure it the same way. I know Miriam does—she tried to hook me when I first got my job with the post office, but the odds were all hers and I wasn't having any. That was before you came to room with your aunt—and why do you think she picked the inn here, anyway? Miriam's not getting any younger and she's looking out for herself. I'm glad to see you've got brains enough to do the same."
"Well," Wesley said. There was nothing to add to it. "Well."
"Well, I better go," Charlie said, and did.
In his room, Wesley sat with his unopened packet in his hand and thought gray thoughts.
It was one thing to plod dutifully to doom because of loyalty to his Aunt Jessica and an unwillingness to hurt Miriam, but another matter entirely to be maneuvered into a selfish solution of their problems. Miriam wanted security, however obtained. His Aunt Jessica wanted retirement with the income that would continue to roll in as long as the inn remained under Miriam's capable hand. The two of them had arranged it all between them as calmly as they might have made up a grocery list.
"Sucker," Wesley said. "If there were a way out—"
Because there was none he let it drop and opened his latest brochure.