Marian’s heart fluttered, bounding about like an energetic bumblebee, and as she met his gaze, she found herself wondering anew at this whole situation. Truly, she could not sort it all out. Many might think her a fool for questioning the meaning behind a kiss and marriage proposal, but how many times had she stood by his side and heard him spout lovely words to her, telling her how grand a lady she was, only for him to be horrified when he discovered that she loved him?
“You see, Marian. I was correct.” Father’s words ricocheted through her thoughts, and though she knew George could not know their meaning, it was not lost on Marian. Widowers did not need romance. A marriage of convenience, that is all. What would be better than a friend as his bride? They rubbed along, after all.
“I dare say you outshine all the rest of the ladies, Marian.”
Giving that a wry smile, Marian strove for a lighter tone when she replied, “You must forgive me, Mr. Finch, if your compliments lack weight.”
George frowned. “I have only ever been honest with you.”
Marian turned her gaze to the crowd, holding her dignity close to shield her heart as she revealed a small piece of it. “You have always been generous in your praise. Enough so that it is hard to pay your compliments any mind.”
Stiffening, George narrowed his gaze as he studied her. “Is that why you have warned me off so many times, saying I needn’t ply you with compliments?”
“I will remind you that on the same night you claimed I was radiant and fetching, you also said you did not see me as a woman.” Marian attempted a light tone, and though her effort was middling, she managed not to convey all the pain prickling in her heart. With a sigh, she shook her head and held up a staying hand. “I apologize, Mr. Finch. You have done your best to make amends, and it is not fair of me to dredge up the past—”
“I did not say you weren’t a woman,” George said with a wince. Though phrased like a statement, there was a question rife in his tone and a fair heaping of chagrin that made it clear he did not recall the precise wording, nor did he wish to.
“That was not your exact wording, but it was your meaning. So, I beg your pardon if I find it difficult to believe your compliments now when they meant little before.”
George rubbed his forehead, pressing a firm finger to the spot between his eyes that grew so very stiff when he worried. “Allow me to set the record straight—I never thought you were plain. Not ever. My compliments were entirely honest, and I spoke not a word I did not mean. I did not think of you as a romantic prospect, which is why your declaration startled me so and may have led me to react in a manner that was…” He let out a sigh and shook his head. “Well, a manner that was altogether unflattering for both of us. But no matter what impression I gave in that wretched moment, I never thought you as plain as you seem to think you are.”
Though his expression at the time seemed to contradict that assertion, Marian couldn’t dispute the deliberate and honest manner in which he spoke of those times. George was no liar. If her heart conflated his compliments into something greater than they were, that was her own doing, and it was unfair of her to distrust everything he’d said simply because she’d inferred more.
Marian opened her mouth to say just that, but George forestalled her. Standing before her, he took her hand in his. It was not so very different than other times in which they’d stood in just such a manner, but the warmth in his eyes was something altogether new. It flowed from him and into her, stilling her breath as her heart beat a rapid rhythm.
George’s voice lowered, his words coming in with quiet firmness. “Whatever happened that night or any of the nights before, you should know that for some time I have considered you the most beautiful woman of my acquaintance.”
Eyes glued open, Marian stared at him, unable to move or speak at such a confession. His thumb brushed across the back of her hand, tracing a circle across her glove.
“I cannot explain it. Your face hasn’t changed one jot, but it’s like I was in darkness. Then the sun rose, bathing the world in light, and now, I can see.” His eyes traced the lines of her face, searching her features with such admiration that Marian couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Then, with words that were hardly more than a whisper, he added, “You are beautiful, Marian. Not just tonight but always.”
Her chin trembled, and she fought to take a breath, but her lungs wouldn’t work. Batting her eyes, Marian tried to gain control of her tear ducts and cursed her situation. Why now? No one noticed them in their little corner, yet she was not free to say or do any of the things that filled her thoughts. George thought her beautiful? Lovely? She was certain no one outside her own family had ever used such vernacular with her.
Even as she heard it with her own ears, Marian struggled to believe it. Her mind picked apart each word, trying to see beneath the surface to discern its meaning. But George had said kind things before without meaning for her to infer love on his part. Was he simply saying such things so she would not settle for Mr. Highmore? Being a friend and trying to build her up? They were the words of a lover, yet Marian had heard similar things from him before.
“George…” She didn’t mean to slip into the familiar, but it was so difficult to keep him at a distance when discussing such things. But even as she corrected herself, she did not know what she intended to say after it.
“Miss Wakefield.” Mr. Miles Finch appeared beside his brother, giving her a quick bow.
“Not now, Miles,” said George, shooing him away, but his brother shook his head.
“The first dance is about to start, and I was hoping Miss Wakefield would do me the honor of standing up with me.” The younger Finch glanced between the pair, his brows knitting together.
Before George could argue again, Marian stepped forward. “I would be delighted.”
Chapter 35
Snatching Mr. Miles Finch’s arm, Marian hurried towards the dance floor, dragging the gentleman along. Her heart prodded her to return to George’s side, but time to sort out her thoughts was precisely what she needed. Getting swept up in a moment hadn’t done her any good before, and she wasn’t about to allow herself to repeat that mistake. Hasty decisions rarely led to happy hearts.
She had hardly a moment to think about George because the dance began, and she was swept into the steps. Of course, he lingered in the back of her thoughts, but as he’d taken up permanent residence there long ago, that was nothing out of the ordinary.
“You are a fine dancer, Miss Wakefield.”
“And you are being too generous in your praise, Mr. Finch.” Her statement was punctuated by a misstep. “I fear I haven’t danced much in recent years, and I am a touch out of practice.”
The young man shook his head and gave her a broad grin. “Nonsense.”
“I would think it obvious I do not dance often; otherwise, your brother wouldn’t have pressed you into service,” Marian replied with a spark of mirth in her gaze. “Though I suppose he is regretting that at present. What did he offer you to keep me occupied during the dances he couldn’t secure himself?”
