“Make an informed decision?” There was some wryness in her tone. Fletcher started to hope.
“Yes. Well, that sounds rather stiff and intellectual, but what I mean is—”
“Fletcher, how can you…it really took Rotherfeld proposing for you to realize how you felt?”
She sounded annoyed, which made him defensive. “I’m an idiot. Owen has been trying to tell me for a year that I had feelings for you, and I told him he was wrong, but of course he was right, and I was just denying it because…because I don’t know. Part of me thought you viewed me as an older brother andI didn’t want to interfere with that, and then you started courting Rotherfeld and…truly from the bottom of my heart, all I want is your happiness.”
“But you want to be with me?”
“I do.” Desperately, now that he was voicing his desires, but he couldn’t say that. She looked gorgeous tonight in the soft light from the gas lamps. Her gown was a dark blue, made out of some kind of shiny fabric and decorated with tiny beads. It hugged her figure in a way that made Fletcher want to touch her, or to rip the gown off so he could touch her skin. “I recognize how foolish that sounds. That I didn’t realize it until Rotherfeld wormed his way into your life. But it’s true. I, Fletcher Basildon, am a fool for not making you mine a long time ago, and now I fear I’ve waited too long, but you must know, Louisa, that I love you, I really do, and I never meant to imply that I want to marry you for any reason other than that.”
She shook her head. “We’re both idiots.”
“Are we?”
“I did view you as an older brother, but I suppose lately that has changed a bit. You’re not hard to look at, you know.”
“I’m not?” Fletcher leaned forward, wanting to hear her say more.
She smiled. “Fletcher, you are a very handsome man.”
“Lark told me you were marrying Rotherfeld because he’s younger, better-looking, and more powerful than I am.”
“Perhaps younger and more powerful, but not better-looking.”
Something in Fletcher’s chest swelled. Rotherfeld was universally acknowledged to be a handsome man, but Louisa liked Fletcher’s looks better? That felt like victory.
But Louisa hadn’t responded to anything he’d said. Did she not agree? Did she intend to go back to Rotherfeld despite everything?
He didn’t want her to turn him down. He didn’t think she would, but if he’d misconstrued this situation… “If you do not want to be together, it’s better to tell me now. Let me down easy.”
“Oh. Fletcher.” She reached up and put a hand on his cheek. “I just didn’t want your proposal to be pity. If you marry me, it’s because you want to and we love each other. And I do love you. How could I not? But now I must figure out what to do about Rotherfeld, and I just don’t know.”
“There’s still time. You could end the engagement.”
“Yes. I need to think on it more.”
Fletcher found that unsatisfying. He didn’t want to push it, but he said, “Please don’t marry Rotherfeld just because you feel obligated.”
“No. I wouldn’t. I need time to think of how to end things. And I was just thinking, I really want to kiss you, but if I do that, I’m no better than he is, assuming he is indeed spending his nights with Lieutenant Hanley.”
“Oh.” Well, that was disappointing. Fletcher wanted to kiss her, too. He wanted to drag her out of this party and straight to his bed.
She leaned over and kissed Fletcher’s cheek. Fletcher caught her wrist and turned his head and their lips met. She wanted to know if he desired her? Of course he did. He hoped to show that through this kiss.
But she was right. She was still engaged to Rotherfeld.
“I am sorry,” Fletcher said, pulling away gently. “We should go back inside.”
“We should.” But Louisa didn’t move to stand.
“Don’t marry Rotherfeld,” said Fletcher.
“No. But he will be mad at me,” she said.
Fletcher stood and held out his hand for Louisa. She took it, and he squeezed her hand before helping her up. “If you want me to be there when you tell him, I can.”
“No. This is something I must do myself. Please… I’m with you, Fletcher. But I need some time to figure out how to do this.”
