by Fanny Finch
“And you are, as ever, prone to thinking too little of yourself, Georgiana. I tell you that the man still has feelings for you.”
“Oh, yes, and you got that all in a look? This is England, Julia, or have you forgotten? Land of the stiff upper lip? Captain Trentworth is a man of discretion. He would never show his feelings in that way.”
“He would if he did not realize how obvious he was being. You said that your brother and his bride did not realize how the other one felt. Even when they were being painfully obvious to everyone else around them.
“What if it is the same here with Captain Trentworth? What if he simply does not realize how he is behaving? How his heart is written on his sleeve?”
Georgiana sighed. “You are incorrigible. It is my lot in life to suffer this way, it seems. And now I sound as dramatic as you do.
“He has every opportunity to show me that he still holds affection for me. He has behaved towards me with nothing but the barest of civility. He is angry towards me for how I treated him but nothing more.”
The dance ended, and she watched as Captain Trentworth led Miss Perry off the dance floor and stopped to converse with Miss Everett.
Of course. Miss Everett was far more suited to the captain than Miss Perry, as sweet and well-intended a girl as she might be.
“You do worry me so, Georgiana,” Julia said. “It is nothing to converse with a woman, nothing at all!”
“And yet, as Mr. Tomlinson has just proven, a single conversation. A single dinner. Might be enough to persuade a man into thinking of marriage.”
“With the right woman, perhaps.”
“Well then who is to say that she is not the right woman? Who is to take that possibility away from her?”
“I think that there is no woman who is as right for him as you.”
“That is your opinion, Julia. And a bold one at that. And your opinion is not the one that matters. His does and his alone. No amount of your wishful thinking and scheming can change his opinion if he does not wish for it to be changed.”
Julia sighed, watching as Captain Trentworth and Miss Everett sank deep into conversation.
“Would it be so bad, my dear? If you married Mr. Tomlinson? If he turns out to be as good of a man as he seems to be and as I hope he is.”
“I do not know,” Georgiana admitted. “If the captain was not here… I would say yes. I have little choice in the matter at this point, do I not? I must do what I can to preserve my dignity and my place in society.
“But now… I find that I am as weak as I was all those other times that men seemed to be growing close to me. I would think of the captain and my heart would retreat and grow cold.
“And those men could sense it. I know that they could. And so they, too, retreated.
“My brother, I think, suspects some of it. That my own foolish heart and behavior was part of the reason why I was never proposed to or properly courted after the captain.
“And I know what I should do at this moment is welcome the courtship of Mr. Tomlinson with open arms. And a part of me wants to. Yet… I do not know.”
“Well, you know my opinion on the matter,” Julia said. “I have not been subtle about it. But whatever you decide, you must do it soon. Neither man will stand still in his course while you fret over what you will decide.”
“That is true.”
Georgiana watched as Captain Trentworth bowed, apparently asking Miss Everett to dance. He escorted her out onto the floor.
“They are well suited for one another,” Georgiana admitted quietly. “She has the strength of character that he appreciates. The wit that he likes. She is lovely to gaze upon. I think she would make him a good wife.”
“So would you,” Julia replied. “And would she love him to the depth and breadth that you would, and do?”
Georgiana wanted to cry. Would she? Would the lovely, the young, the witty Miss Everett truly give the captain all that he needed and deserved?
Part of her wanted Miss Everett to be capable of it. If only so that the captain might be happy and find someone deserving of him.
But the other part of her, the selfish part, wanted it to not be so. She wanted there to be no other woman for the captain, no person for him but herself.
She could easily recall the days when they had exchanged letters. How they had talked then of the poets of love! They had written one another passages from poems they read and had even tried their hand at writing their own poems to each other.
They were quite pale imitations of the great poets, if Georgiana recalled correctly.
But what was important was how back then, she had seen love as a wonderous thing. It was new and exciting. It made everything better. Colors were brighter and food tasted better. She felt like dancing all the time, as if her body was moving to music that her ears could not quite catch.
Now she knew better. Love was painful. It sank its claws into a person and held on long after the person wanted it gone. She tried to banish it but it always came back like some kind of plague or great illness.
Love was a sickness.
She watched Captain Tretnworth and Miss Everett dancing and felt that sickness inside of her still. Oh, what she would do to banish it!
But she knew of no cure. If she did, she would have cast that hideous love from herself ages ago and married the first man who proposed to her. She would have been the excellent flirt that she was supposed to be.
She would have married a titled man, as her father had wanted. She could have had a child by now, perhaps even two children.
But love had taken a bite out of her like a lion and its teeth were embedded in her to this day.
Georgiana turned away. She would not torture herself further by continuing to watch this. What sort of self-hating person was she to watch as the man she loved flirted with another woman?
She ought to go and get some air. Yes. That would do. She would step outside and get some air.
“I will return,” she told Julia. “I only need a moment.”
“If you say so. Please do be careful.”
Georgiana walked slowly and sedately, and told herself that in doing so, she wasn’t actually fleeing the ballroom.
Chapter 12
Once she was outside, she felt much better. She was away from everyone and from the stifling heat of the ballroom.
The cool night air was soothing. The rumble of the carriages was familiar and comforting. She would spend a few minutes composing herself. And then she would return, and all would be well.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Reginald?”
She turned to see Mr. Norwich standing there. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but I saw you leaving. I thought you might want an escort. Are you well?”
She nodded. “It is only a moment’s distress, nothing more.”
“Would you mind if I stood with you, then? I only fear for your safety.”
“That is kind of you.”
Had it been Mr. Tomlinson, she would have sent him away. But Mr. Norwich was of a calmer and more stoic disposition and he had not yet made any attempts to flirt with her. She felt quite safe in his care.
“You are welcome to stay,” she told him.
“Do you wish to talk about what caused you your distress?” Mr. Norwich asked.
Georgiana sighed. “I’m afraid that it is not the sort of matter that one can really discuss with strangers.”
“Ah, an affair of the heart then, I am guessing?” Mr. Norwich smiled in understanding. “I do not wish to belittle ladies in any way. But that is usually what is causing the distress.
“And I suspect that if it were simply a quarrel with a friend that you would tell me of it at once. But courtship is such a confusing and important game that we all play, is it not?”
“You speak wisely, sir.”
“Then I am correct in my guess?”
“Yes, that you are.”
“Then might I also guess that the exact reason for your distress is unrequit
ed love?”
Georgiana nodded. “I made a grave error, many years ago. I hurt a dear man. And now he is back, and I find my heart is still his. But his is no longer mine. He seems to be looking to give it to someone else.”
“Well, the night is still young,” Mr. Norwich pointed out. “A man may feel passion on the dance floor that rapidly subsides once he is off it.
“I have danced with many a woman that I was convinced I should marry. And then once I had concluded the dance and took a few moments to compose myself I realized what a fool I was.
“I admit that sometimes it took me until the carriage ride home or even the next morning. But I did come to my senses.
“So if you see the man for whom you care with another woman and it seems to be going well, I would not worry too much. Worry a little, but you never know. It could only be the fancy of a moment.”
“I fear that if it is not this woman, it will be another. I’m sure that he has quite forgotten me.”
Mr. Norwich grew serious. “Madam, if I may say so—if you were the woman who once held my heart, I would not soon forget you. Not in a lifetime.”
Georgiana gazed at him in astonishment. Mr. Norwich shook his head.
“I see that you do not see it. I am not surprised. Ladies such as yourself rarely realize their charms.
“You are a singular woman, Miss Reginald. Every man in the room can see it. My surprise in you having not yet married is genuine, I can assure you.”
Perhaps it was as she had said to Julia, then. It was not that she was not undesirable. It was that the men had known that they could not truly win her.
And even in marriages of convenience, gentlemen did like to imagine that the lady to whom they proposed held some measure of affection for them. Even if it was not true.
But with Georgiana, there was no such thing as pretense. She could not hide how she felt about something or someone.
And so those men must have seen that she was untouchable, and so they did not try to touch.
Oh, was it really all her own fault? That she was now suffering as she did?
“I fear that I have put you in even more distress than you were previously,” Mr. Norwich observed.
“It is nothing,” Georgiana informed him, struggling to get her wildly beating heart under control. “I only feel so stupid. For not seeing what others see.”
“We so rarely see ourselves in a true light,” Mr. Norwich replied. “Now, I do not know this gentleman. I cannot make any certain claims. I know only that I esteem you and would allow myself to go further than that with you if I thought I had a chance of winning you.
“If this gentleman is at all like myself, then he will be the same way. How can you know that all is lost until you try? You lose all of the wars that you do not start. All of the battles that you do not fight.
“I would suggest that you do your utmost to win him back and see what happens. I think that you might be surprised at what your efforts yield.”
There was a bit of poetic justice in that, Georgiana supposed. She had never pursued any man and had always let them come to her. She was no flirt.
But she had been pursued by Captain Trentworth and she had rejected him. Was it not fair, then, that for her redemption she now be the one to pursue him and fight for him?
“I sense some resolve returning to your cheeks,” Mr. Norwich said proudly. “I am glad to see it. You are a lovely woman, Miss Reginald. Do not sell yourself short.”
“I shall try not to,” she replied.
Mr. Norwich handed her a handkerchief so that she might dab at her eyes. “I do my best to be of service to others. That is what my father has taught me.
“Having said that, allow me a moment of selfishness, if you please. Should this man reject you and set aside your heart. Do not hesitate to bring it to me. I should keep it and honor it as a man should.”
Georgiana finished dabbing at her eyes and handed his handkerchief back to him. “You have brightened my evening with your kind words. Although I am not certain that I am worthy of them, they are appreciated nonetheless. If I am rejected, I shall think on your offer.”
She was drawn towards Mr. Norwich more than she was drawn towards Mr. Tomlinson, at least in their general disposition. That was something to think on at least.
But could she really find the courage to pursue the captain? To make it clear to him that she was still his if he wanted her? Would he even pay attention to her? Would he even notice or care?
There were so many reasons to doubt. So many ways that it could all go horribly wrong.
But Mr. Norwich was right about one thing: she would lose every battle that she did not fight.
If the men simply stood on the banks and said that they would not fight the war, then the war was lost! And that was what she was doing, wasn’t it?
She was saying that it was useless to try and fight and so she was not even going to try. But she did not really know, did she?
Until Captain Trentworth looked her in the eye and told her, “Miss Reginald, I have no interest in having you as a part of my life now or ever,” how could she know what he thought?
It was all merely conjecture, wasn’t it?
She was her father’s daughter in some ways. And her father would never have stood for accepting mere conjecture and assumptions in closing a business deal.
No. He would demand facts. Confirmation. Proof.
That was what she ought to demand.
Georgiana turned, looking Mr. Norwich straight in the eye for the first time since he had stepped outside. “Mr. Norwich, if you would be so kind. I should like to be escorted back into the ballroom?”
He bowed to her. “Certainly, Miss Reginald. It would be my pleasure. Is that a determined gleam I catch in your eye?”
“It very well could be, sir. I could venture to say that your little talk has done wonders for my resolve.”
“I am glad to hear it. I shall look forward to watching to see how this all plays out.”
With that, he escorted her back into the ballroom.
Where Captain Trentworth, whether he knew it or not, waited.
Chapter 13
Robert located Miss Weston without much difficulty.
All he had to do was follow the sound of laughter. Miss Weston was most usually to be found in the middle of it, either laughing herself or causing it.
He found her talking with Miss Everett and Mr. Tomlinson. About what, he wasn’t sure.
Robert had to stifle the flare of envy that ignited in his chest when he saw Mr. Tomlinson. It was certainly not the other man’s fault if he had an interest in Miss Reginald. What man in his right mind would not have an interest in her?
Besides, it was only a dance, was it not? That was all that Robert had seen. A dance alone was not enough to seal a man’s affections or his desire for courtship. Robert himself was proof of that as he considered whether or not to try courting Miss Everett.
“I do hate to interrupt this lovely conversation,” he said, turning to Miss Weston. “But your mother is summoning you.”
“I must go and see what she requires.” Miss Weston curtsied to them all.
She hurried off and Robert turned to look at the two remaining people. “I hope that you are enjoying your time in Bath?” he asked Mr. Tomlinson.
“Immensely, sir,” Mr. Tomlinson replied. “Much more than I had expected. And what of you? How are you finding England now that you have been back for a few days? Is it as you recall?”
Robert made to tell him that he was surprised at how little had changed, when none other than Miss Reginald joined their group. She was accompanied by Mr. Norwich.
She looked as though she had been in distress. Robert doubted that anyone else would notice. Miss Reginald was remarkably good at hiding her feelings.
But he knew. The years had passed and yet he could still tell when she had been upset.
Back in the day the reasons she had been upset were usually linked to her father. He ha
d comforted her in person and in letters many a time as she had confided her distress to him.
Her father was a strong-willed and powerful man. Robert remembered that quite clearly.
Could he truly expect any woman to go against such a man? When that man was a duke who could destroy her if he wanted to? When that man was her father and all of society and good breeding expected her to follow her father’s will?
