“Are all youths so foolish?” She tilted her head as she asked the question. Having this conversation with him, although bittersweet, caused her to feel more sophisticated than her normal self. Dismissing her once true love. Laughing at the foolishness of both their youths.
He didn’t answer right away.
“I would hope not.”
Oh, but he had a way. One minute she believed him to be shallow and unfeeling, and the next he reminds her of how she’d imagined him.
“Are your daughters enjoying London?” She needed to change the subject to something less personal.
In doing so, she managed to summon deep creases in his forehead as well as a most discouraging scowl.
“They are… adjusting.”
He seemed to not wish to discuss the subject. It was sad really. And disappointing. A father ought to be happy to discuss two such lovely girls as he was lucky enough to have.
Perhaps it had something to do with his recent loss.
“I’m sorry to hear of your wife’s passing.” That was a sentiment anyone would say, was it not? She could not come right out and ask him if he’d been betrothed already on the night they’d kissed at Vauxhall.
Could she?
“How long had you been married?”
He shook his head at her. “I was not engaged when you and I met.” Oh, but it was happening again. That feeling of knowing, of familiarity and… just knowing. “But we had been married just over ten years.”
That was a very long time. And he’d come away with two lovely daughters.
She hoped he’d had love in his marriage. It was sad to lose a loved one, but ten years of unhappiness would have been, perhaps, even sadder.
Of course, he might disagree with such a sentiment if she allowed herself to utter it.
She pinched her lips together tightly, having already spoken out of turn.
“I loved her.” He answered her unasked question. “Marriage can be a difficult endeavor, though.”
And then he shook his head, wincing, as though he too, had said more than he’d wished.
She needed another subject. This conversation was becoming all too personal. “Are you going to ask for Lady Elaine? Everyone is speculating, you know.”
He nearly winced. She could tell by the twitch of his lip before he shuttered his emotions. “My mother is good friends with the duchess.”
That was no answer at all.
Tilde held her tongue again, and staring beyond his shoulders and out the door, took on the ennui she’d watched on so many other women’s faces that evening. “Lovely weather we’ve been having.”
When she returned her gaze to his eyes, he’d narrowed them at her. “I’m not going to ask for Lady Elaine. She’s a child.”
Tilde laughed and then bit her bottom lip.
“I’m aware she is the same age you were when we met.”
Tilde laughed again. “You remembered my age?”
At that he rolled his eyes. If either of them had been paying attention, they’d have realize several onlookers watched them curiously.
“Of course. I was a stupid young fool, but I was quite enamored with you that evening.” And simple as that, he set her heart racing again.
“And you were four and twenty.” She uttered the words without thinking.
