“While we danced I found myself wanting to recapture the spirit of that absurd waltz at the Boxing Day party,” he said. “But I ought not to have done it at your betrothal ball of all places. I ought not to have made you laugh in that joyful way you have when you are really enjoying yourself while your betrothed and half thetonwere looking on. I just did notthink, and for that I must blame myself. And then to make matters worse we got into that intense conversation—I cannot for the life of me remember now what it was about. Can you? I just did not notice when the music ended.”
“Colin,” she said as they turned to walk parallel to the trees rather than passing through them to the woodland path beyond. “You really mustnottorture yourself any longer with such foolish self-accusations. It was not you who behaved badly.At all.Neither was it me. It was Sir Geoffrey Codaire. People are supposed to enjoy themselves at a ball. We were doing just that. They are supposed to be sociable and converse with one another. It is what we were doing. The whole incident was dealt with quite satisfactorily downstairs in Avery’s library. I put an end to our betrothal, Alex knocked him down when he turned spiteful, and Avery ejected him from the house, though not bodily. He left on his own feet. There will be a notice in the papers tomorrow to announce what everyone knows anyway. My mother and Wren have written to everyone who was invited to the wedding, all the wedding arrangements have been canceled, my mother and I will return to Riddings Park tomorrow or the day after, and…Well, and there is the end of the matter. I only hope all this does not have negative repercussions for you, but I do not expect it will. Men and women are usually judged by very different standards. I daresay your matrimonial prospects have actually been enhanced, if that is possible.”
They walked onward in silence for a while, the wind in their faces now and a strong suggestion of dampness in the air. It was not a pleasant day at all. Even so, it felt good to be outside and walking. It felt good too, she admitted to herself with a twinge of guilt, to be away from her family for a short while, even Wren and Alex and her mother.
But this was good-bye to Colin. Oh, not forever, she supposed. There would doubtless be family occasions that would draw her away from Riddings eventually—the birth of another child for Alex and Wren, for example. She would almost certainly see him again. But not soon and not often. She would never waltz with him again—an absurdly trivial thought that brought a soreness to her throat and a gurgle she disguised by swallowing.
“Not all men are as Codaire is,” he said. “Or as your first husband was.”
She turned to look at him, tall and good-looking and very serious. “Are you suggesting that I try again?” she asked him. “I know not all men are villains, Colin. Or all husbands. There are Alex and Avery and my Uncle Richard and Joel Cunningham and…and Alvin Cole to disprove any such silly notion. The problem is not with all men, but with the men I choose as husbands. I was sure Desmond was the one for me. I loved him with my whole heart. But he was weak and sick and something in him hated me and turned that hatred to viciousness. All these years later I was sure Geoffrey was the man for me—solid and steady and loyal and patient and a whole host of other good things. But he is possessive and autocratic and jealous and something in him has hated me all these years—for being frivolous enough to choose Desmond instead of him when I was young, perhaps, and then driving my husband to drink.”
“If he said that last night,” he said, “then he deserved to be knocked down.”
“It is not men I do not trust as much as it is myself,” she told him. “I am obviously a terrible judge of character. And there is something in me that…that men hate.”
“I do not hate you, Elizabeth,” he said, sounding almost angry. They had stopped walking, she realized. “I like and respect and admire and honor you.”
“Iwassounding self-pitying almost to the point of hysteria, was I not?” she said, smiling ruefully at him. Her lips felt a bit stiff as though they had not smiled for a long time. “But thank you, Colin. You are kind. And it was good of you to come today, when I know it must not have been easy, and even to maneuver matters so that you could have this private word with me. I do appreciate it.”
He turned away slightly in order to raise the large black umbrella of Alex’s he had taken from the hall stand. It had started to drizzle slightly, she realized. He raised it over both their heads but made no move to walk onward.
“Do you trustme?” he asked.
“Of course I do.” She smiled again. “But I am not considering marriage with you, Colin.”
“I thought perhaps you might,” he said, “if I asked.”
And she realized with a rush of dismay what this was all about—this call at the house, this invitation to come walking, this desire to speak privately with her. She set a hand on his arm and moved half a step closer to him.
“Because of last night?” she said. “Because you still fear you somehow compromised me and owe me marriage? Oh no, Colin. But I do thank you most sincerely.”
“Because you need someone to trust and I think I am that man,” he said. “We both know I am not solid and firmly established in life. You know I have problems to solve, an identity to establish, a future to carve out, changes to make—I could go on and on. I am not someone you can ever have considered as a husband, but by your own admission your choices have not worked well. Icanbe trusted, Elizabeth, and I can offer the security of name and fortune. I would never let you down. I would always care for you. No. Let me rephrase that. I would always careaboutyou. I would never ever behave as though I own you no matter what church and state may say to the contrary. I would always respect you and hold you in affection. I would always seek out your companionship.Willyour trust me?Willyou marry me?”
Elizabeth blinked several times. If the umbrella had not been firmly over their heads and tipped slightly into the wind she would have chosen to believe it was the rain that was moistening her cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly. “Have I made you cry?”
“Colin.” She set a hand flat against his chest. “My dear. You have been developing an interest in several eligible young ladies. Perhaps you have even singled out one as the favorite. Miss Dunmore, perhaps? It would hardly be surprising if you had fallen in love with her, and she would be an excellent choice.”
“No,” he said. “The number is still plural, surely an indication that I am not in love with any of them, whatever being in love means. I really do not understand the term. I care for you more than for anyone else I have met this spring.”
“You are very kind,” she said again with a sigh. “But Colin, I am almost ten years older than you.”
“Always it comes down to that, does it not?” he said. “Codaire is older than you are, Elizabeth. That is perfectly obvious. How much older?”
He had told her the day he proposed and she accepted his offer. The irony had struck her even at the time. “Nine years,” she said. “He is forty-four.”
“And when you accepted his marriage offer,” he said, “did you protest that you were almost ten years younger than he?”
“No,” she said.
“Did it even occur to you to do so?” he asked her. “Did you feel any unease at all about the age gap?”
“No,” she said. “But—”
“Ifeel no unease about the age gap between us,” he said. “I feel even less now than I did at Christmas. Then I thought your serenity was bone deep, or soul deep. I thought you had reached that pinnacle of maturity that I imagine we all dream of reaching but never actually do achieve. I thought you were beyond my reach, to be admired, even worshiped from afar. But I suppose there are always more changes to adjust to, more growing to do, more doubts and insecurities to be wrestled with. You are still on a journey to somewhere, are you not, Elizabeth? Just as I am? Just as everyone is? Perhaps—no, probably—that somewhere does not really exist. Not in this lifetime anyway. Though it is to be hoped we can pick up some wisdom along the way. As you have. And as I perhaps have begun to do. But we are not the universes apart I once thought we were. Only a few miles, in fact.”
“Nine miles?” she suggested.
