by Fanny Finch
Julia only laughed.
They took their luncheon, which was lovely, and Mrs. Weston inquired after Mr. Tomlinson’s cook who had prepared the meal, and all in all, it was a pleasant enough afternoon.
If only Georgiana didn’t feel quite so much like having her lunch all come back up the same way that it had gone down.
She honestly didn’t know which answer was the right one to choose. If she said yes, would she be setting up the both of them for a life of misery?
Or would she only be condemning herself by saying no? Would saying yes be all right, would it be not so bad as Julia had feared?
But then, what if he was not proposing today? It was a perfect set-up for it, that was true. The picnic, the weather, the spot that was chosen. Julia and Mrs. Weston were there, of course. But that could not be avoided. It would have been improper for Georgiana to spend so much time with a man without being married to him.
In short, it was a perfectly planned and executed moment for someone to propose marriage.
Yet, she could be overreacting. He could not do it today. It had only been a few weeks. Surely Mr. Tomlinson must want to take more time and be certain, wouldn’t he?
They ate and chatted—or rather the other three chatted and Georgiana listened.
Perhaps he wasn’t going to propose. Perhaps she was getting all worked up over nothing. Perhaps…
And then, as they finished their luncheon, Mr. Tomlinson stood up and asked, “Miss Reginald, I don’t suppose that I could prevail upon you to accompany me on a short walk?”
Georgiana almost wanted to ask Julia to come with her. She knew that such a thing would prevent Mr. Tomlinson from being able to propose. Proposals were supposed to be done in private, as with most romantic things.
But she could not do that. Why delay the inevitable? Why put it off when it was only going to happen at some point anyway?
Georgiana stood up and forced herself to put on a smile. “Of course. It would do me some good to stretch my legs.”
When Captain Trentworth had proposed to her it had been at the estate owned by the Westons.
That had been where she and the captain had met so as to avoid her father.
Captain Trentworth had shown up with a determined look on his face that day. And he had politely asked if everyone save for Miss Reginald could leave the room.
Georgiana could remember how she had trembled. How nervous she had been, but excited, more than nervous. She had wanted to burst out laughing and burst into tears all at the same time.
She had hardly breathed until everyone had left the room and he had begun to speak.
He had told her of how she knew his heart better than anyone, and so what he was going to say would probably not come as a surprise, but he must say it all the same.
He had told her of how his greatest joy in life was her. That he had joined the navy to serve his country and because it was the best option available to him, but now he was happy to protect her.
He had spoken of how her letters were what kept him going. How she gave him hope, at last, that he might have a future. That he had a purpose beyond simply following orders.
Georgiana had burst into tears for one of the few times in her life, overwhelmed by the joy welling up in her at the things he was saying.
He had stuttered a bit, clearly nervous. He had told her that if only he were better with words, he could give her some poetic speech. But perhaps it was better this way because his love for her rendered him speechless, and therefore she could see how much she affected him.
Georgiana had quite agreed. His being overcome with emotion had only endeared him to her more.
When he finally got around to asking if she would marry him, he had laughed apologetically.
“I see that I have spent all of my time rambling and stuttering about how I feel and I have not even got to the question,” he had said.
She had said yes, enthusiastically, thinking there was nothing else in the world that would make her so happy. And nothing in the world that could take her happiness away from her.
And then her father had refused to give his blessing. He had told her that if she married the captain, he would cut her off from everything.
And so happiness had become despair.
But the anticipation she had felt then was nothing like the vague sick feeling that she was feeling now. Back then, she had been full of happy nervousness, wanting it so badly. She had dreamed of that moment.
Now, she was dreading it. She wanted it to happen only so that she might get it over with and be done. But she did not actually want it to happen.
But she felt so awful for feeling that way. Mr. Tomlinson had been nothing but kindness to her. He had every right to propose to her after all that she had let him court her.
And he was saving her. She should be grateful to him. He was rescuing her from a life of humiliation. It was awful of her to be handed her redemption and to dislike it so much.
Was this what Julia had been talking about earlier? When she had said that Georgiana would live her life ashamed of herself, feeling guilty?
She did not want to spend the rest of her life feeling this way.
But surely it would change with time? It must change with time? She could grow to love him, possibly? Or at the very least grow to care for him more than she did now.
There were those that said familiarity bred contempt, but there was also the idea that the more time you spent with someone, they grew on you. You grew accustomed to them. And in time, that feeling grew into fondness. And hopefully from fondness into something more.
Georgiana could hope and plan for that, could she not? Surely unhappiness while married and then unhappiness while single were not the only two choices before her.
But Julia had pointed out that it might be unfair to Mr. Tomlinson to place him in a position where he gave love and got none back in return.
She could not guarantee that she would grow to love him. As much as she wanted to guarantee that, for his own sake—she did not know the future. It would be unfair of her, wouldn’t it, to ask him to take care of her and support her and do all of those things for her, and then not be able to give him the one thing that he asked for in return.
Georgiana honestly did not know which option she should choose. And that was causing her more stress than almost anything else. If only she knew her answer, she could give it, whether yes or no, and it would all be settled.
But she didn’t know her answer. And she was going to have to make up her mind, and quickly.
Mr. Tomlinson led them through the shade of the trees along a little path. “I saw this,” he said, “and as soon as I did, I knew that it was the place where I must take you.”
Once again, honeyed words. Romantic ones. Miss Perry would undoubtedly be swooning. As would nearly any other girl that Georgiana could think of.
But it wasn’t right for her. He wasn’t right for her.
Did it matter, though? Did it really matter at this point if he was the right man for her or not? Surely the security and status that he brought her were more important than the man himself?
It was a selfish way to think. But perhaps it was time that she was a bit selfish.
“You cannot be unaware how I feel for you,” Mr. Tomlinson said as they strolled through the shade. “From the moment that I met you I felt that there was something special about you. I thought that here was a woman whose company was worth getting to know.
“You have not led me wrong since. You are an elegant woman, and as thoughtful as a man could hope for. I have savored every moment together and am humbled that you would allow me to spend so much time with you.”
Georgiana’s heart felt like someone had wrapped a fist around it and was squeezing tightly. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to breathe. And not out of excitement but out of sheer panic.
“It has allowed me to hope that perhaps you might return the affections that I hold so dear.” Mr. Tomlinson turned and smiled a
t her. “And so it cannot be any surprise to you when I ask you if you will do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Georgiana could not say yes.
But neither could she say no.
Perhaps… perhaps she could stall? Give herself more time.
Edward and Maria’s wedding was coming up. She was to leave Bath in just a day or two in order to get back to Foreshire in time to help with the final preparations.
What if she told him that it must wait until after the wedding? That would give her at least a week.
And if she did decide to answer yes to his proposal, then she could do so while Edward and Maria were on their honeymoon and Mr. Tomlinson could ask Edward for his blessing when they returned.
It would be positive news to greet them with, should she say yes. Edward would be pleased. Maria… Maria believed in true love and all that, so she might see through it. But she would not contradict Georgiana’s decision if Georgiana was firm in it.
Yes. Asking Mr. Tomlinson to give her some time. That would be a clear middle ground. A compromise with herself.
She smiled at him. It didn’t feel right on her face. You can do this, she told herself.
“I am beyond flattered by your proposal,” she told Mr. Tomlinson. He was watching her hopefully, and she did so hate to disappoint him. “It was not something I had dared even hope for. That a man of your charm and stature should feel so strongly for me is a dream I had long ago given up on.
“But as you know, my brother’s wedding is fast approaching. I must depart Bath in just the next day or so. I cannot in good conscience get engaged to anyone while my mind is so elsewhere.
“Would you do me the kindness of allowing me to give you my answer once the wedding has concluded? I feel it would be doing my brother a disservice to announce an engagement during a special time that is supposed to be for him and his bride.”
Mr. Tomlinson looked terribly disappointed, his eyes darkening sadly, but then as she spoke they lit up again. “Oh, but of course. You are, as always, considerate of others. I would not wish to intrude upon your brother’s happiness.
“I will await your answer once the wedding is concluded. And please do convey my warmest wishes to your brother and his bride on the day.”
“Of course I shall, and Mr. Tomlinson, I do appreciate you understanding my predicament.”
For once in her life, Georgiana felt no qualm about lying. She was too busy being filled with relief that it had worked. Mr. Tomlinson was not suspicious, nor was he downtrodden.
Again, she could not help but wonder if his consistently cheerful perspective meant that he really did not care quite as much. She wasn’t sure if she was glad at the suggestion or not.
If he did not truly care, then that was a good thing. It meant that she would not be breaking his heart one way or another.
Yet, on the other hand, she did wish to see a bit of disappointment that he could not have an answer at once. If she was asking a lady for her hand in marriage, she would want an answer at the first available opportunity.
She did not tell him this, of course. What sort of person told a man that his accommodating reaction to her delaying of an answer to his proposal was unsatisfactory?
Georgiana did want to take the opportunity to ask him, did he truly understand love? Did he genuinely love her? Or was he merely experiencing a bit of infatuation and taking it as the deep and lasting affection of honest love?
But she could not ask him without insulting him somehow, and she could not have that. Not when she still might have need of him.
What a horrible way to phrase it! When she still might ‘have need of him’? It made him sound like a bauble or an object rather than an actual person.
Her thoughts were a jumbled clutter in her head. It was as though she were falling and no longer knew which end was up.
But he had given her a week or so to ponder.
That would have to be enough.
“Shall we walk back to join the others?” Mr. Tomlinson suggested.
“I would like that, thank you, sir,” she replied. She needed Julia’s energetic presence to lighten everything up before Georgiana became properly melancholic.
Julia and Mrs. Weston were chatting amicably in the manner of two people who are talking merely to cover up the fact that they are waiting for some important news.
Julia stood up as Georgiana and Mr. Tomlinson emerged from the path and walked back to them. “Did you enjoy your walk?” she asked, looking straight at Georgiana.
“It was lovely in the shade,” Georgiana replied.
“We had a splendid time,” Mr. Tomlinson added, sitting down again and helping himself to a tart.
Julia gave Georgiana a look that clearly stated she expected Georgiana to tell her everything once they were alone.
Thank goodness that Mr. Tomlinson had not been awkward about the whole thing. Indeed, he was in just as high spirits afterwards as he had been previous to his proposal.
The rest of the afternoon was spent pleasantly and amicably, and the carriage ride home saw no sort of resentment from the gentleman.
The only sign that he had proposed to Georgiana was as he dropped them off at the Weston residence, where he reminded Georgiana in a low voice,
“I shall eagerly await your answer once the wedding has concluded.”
Then he ordered the carriage to drive on.
Watching the carriage pull away, Georgiana felt her stomach twist again. She had to figure out her answer. Soon.
“Well?” Julia said, all but dragging Georgiana into the house so that they might talk properly. “What happened? He must have proposed, he must have, but neither of you said anything when the two of you returned.
“But he did not seem at all upset, so you cannot have said no to him.” Julia searched her face. “What happened? You must tell me everything.”
Georgiana could see Mrs. Weston watching her with just as much interest. She sighed.
“Horrid gossipmongers, both of you,” she teased. “Very well. He did propose to me, in fact. He was very pretty about it.”
“A little too pretty, if I am reading your tone correctly?” Mrs. Weston said. “Oh, do not give me that expression, dear. It has been clear to me for some time that his suave phrases are not appealing to you.”
“I hope that he has not noticed that,” Georgiana replied. She would hate for him to think her rude.
“I wish that he would, so that he might see how unsuitable in the long run you two are for one another.”
“Mother,” Julia chastised. She looked back at Georgiana. “Go on, then.”
“Well, he proposed, and I honestly did not know whether to say yes or no. And so I told him that I could not give him an answer until after my brother’s wedding. He was most jovial about it. Said he had not the slightest issue with it.”
Mrs. Weston frowned. “If I were a man and I proposed to the lady with whom I was in love, I do not know if I could be so patient.”
“That was my thought as well,” Georgiana admitted.
“In this I am actually on Mr. Tomlinson’s side,” Julia said. “If I loved someone, I would put their needs above my own. You obviously need some time, although you were not entirely honest as to why.
“I should have acted as he did. Put on a brave face for you and told you that it was no matter. I would trust that you would be true to your word and tell me your thoughts as soon as the wedding was over as you had promised.”
“That is a wise way of looking at it,” Georgiana admitted. And now she was back to square one with Mr. Tomlinson caring far more about her than she cared about him.
He cared about her enough to set his own feelings aside and let her take whatever time that she needed. He was being respectful of her family.
Was it not terribly unfair of her to put him through this?
“Focus on the wedding,” Mrs. Weston advised.
“Are you going to tell Edward about it?” Julia asked. “He might have some
good advice for you.”
That… that was actually a good idea. Edward was a practical man. He would know how best to advise her. And other than Julia, there was no one in the world who knew her better.
Edward had always regretted not taking her side against Father when Captain Trentworth had proposed to her. This would be a chance to include him in her decision-making. Hopefully he would then feel that he had redeemed himself.
“I think that is a wise suggestion,” Georgiana told Julia.
