She looked up at Walsh when he didn’t respond. “I fear I’ve been poor company.”
He glanced around and gestured at a nearby bench. “May I be frank?” he asked as they sat.
“Yes, of course.”
He folded his hands in his lap and gazed at her with earnest eyes. “My aunt told me about your lieutenant and what happened when he returned home. I realize that approaching you so soon after a jilting could be viewed as taking advantage ofa woman during a time of emotional weakness. I assure you that is not my intention. In fact, I’m quite angry with Mr. Maguire on your behalf.”
“I appreciate that,” she said with a small, fleeting smile. “Though it wasn’t a true jilting, as we were never betrothed.”
“Betrayals hurt, whether they’re formal or not.”
He was right about that. And he apparently didn’t view Jackson’s rejection as a strike against her character, as some town members undoubtedly did.
“I’m no hero, Miss Bennet. I inherited little in the way of charm or appearance, but I’d hoped steady employment and passable manners would be enough to recommend me.”
“They are, Mr. Duffy—those qualities and more.”
“You needn’t flatter me. I hold no illusions about how I measure up when compared to my peers. I would like to call on you again, but if you don’t think we’d suit, I won’t pressure you.”
Guilt constricted Caroline’s chest. She hadn’t set out to hurt Walsh’s feelings, but she’d done it just the same. “My reticence is in no way a reflection on you or your character. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
“Thank you for that kindness,” he replied, appropriately mollified but still clearly waiting for an answer.
What now? His candid nature was refreshing. And it had made her face the loss of Jackson all over again.
But grieving took time. So did developing feelings for a suitor. Walsh deserved a chance to see where this might lead, and so did she.
The smile she offered was genuine this time. “I would welcome another visit, very much.”
“I’m glad.”
He stood and inclined his head to her. “I’ve prevailed on your hospitality long enough. I’d best return home before I wear out my welcome.”
“Nonsense,” she said, rising. “You’ve been an ideal guest.”
As they reached the garden gate, under the warm glow of lamplight spilling through the windows, Walsh cleared his throat and turned to her. “My aunt is hosting a holiday party next week, on Saturday.”
“Yes, we were invited, but my parents had already accepted an invitation to another engagement and were forced to decline.”
“Will you be going with them?”
“No.”
“In that case, would you be my guest at my aunt’s party?”
Caroline blinked and rested her hand on a fence picket to steady herself. She’d expected another parlor visit, or perhaps a carriage ride, not a party invitation.
“Youanda chaperone of your choice, of course,” he added, looking at her expectantly, the hope in his eyes dimming by the second. “If you’d rather–”
“I accept.”
Walsh’s face broke into a smile. “Very well. I’ll come to collect you and your chaperone at seven, if that’s agreeable.”
“It is.”
“Good night, Miss Bennet.”
“Good night.”
