“Oh?”
“I wish permission to be forthright with you, Miss Whitmore, although I sense you would have it no other way.”
She nodded for him to continue.
A grin worked at his lips, as if he tried to constrain it but could not quite help himself. “It cannot have escaped your notice that I have, shall we say,appearedoften in your vicinity.”
Despite herself, she grinned back in answer. “Do go on.”
“I have no great explanation which might excuse me from your tarnished opinion, but rather than go on making the fool of myself, I have decided to act upon my curious passions and ask you to accompany me.”
“Accompany you?”
“If you are not otherwise engaged.”
Was he in earnest? She glanced at the long case clock in the corner of the room, scrambling for a suitable excuse, but the only thing that came out was “Where, I pray?”
“The Pool of London. My sister is returning today from her trip abroad, and I most detest carriage rides alone. And if you do not accompany me, the ride back shall be even more intolerable.”
“Is your familial relationship so unbearable?”
“You did permit me forthrightness.”
“Yes.” Georgina glanced at Agnes and hesitated. “I did.”
Her cousin stood rigid, a grim set to her lips, and her eyes narrowed with some unnamed emotion. Disapproval? Or was that a hint of disgust curling her nose?
“No, I could not possibly.” Georgina swept her hand in Agnes’ direction. “I would require my cousin’s company, and she has already complained of a most dreadful headache.”
“How fortunate that your one excuse is so dismissible.” Mr. Oswald nodded toward the window. “My sister’s abigail is already waiting in the carriage, in the event my sister shall have need of her on the returning trip. A suitable chaperone, do you not agree?”
“Well—”
“Come now, Miss Whitmore. Let us not pretend I have asked for your hand in marriage. We both know I shall not do that.” He outstretched his gloved hand to her, his grin emerging in fullest. “And if I do not miss my mark, that is to both your relief and mine. Shall we go?”
The honesty, the mesmeric pull of his eyes, all melted her excuses. Why should she decline? She was weary of gentlemen tripping over their own heels in her presence. She was weary of those who stumbled over their words, blushed over her as if she was a goddess, and proposed to her with every opportunity they found.
Alexander Oswald, it seemed, had the same endeavors she did.
To remain unwed.
“Very well.” She placed her fingers in his and tried to ignore the objecting huff from Agnes. “Give me but a moment and I shall change.”
“Of course.”
She slipped from the parlor, and for the first time in twelve years, a sense of excitement coursed through her at the thought of a carriage ride. Nothing would come of today. Nothing would come of Alexander Oswald. Indeed, she did not even want it to.
But perhaps, if nothing else, this ordeal would make her forget Simon Fancourt.
If such a thing was even possible.
“I fear I must apologize.” After a lengthy carriage ride, the landau now waited along the edge of a clamorous cobblestone street. From the left carriage window, a view of the Thames was visible, where endless vessels bobbed up and down in the frigid gray-green waters.
Mr. Oswald, who was seated across from Georgina and the dozing maid, crossed his arms over his chest. “If any blame can be assigned for the tardiness of the ship, I cast it unflinchingly upon my sister.”
Georgina smiled. “You judge her very severely.”
“Let us just say that I see people for who they truly are. I do not attempt to polish characters with praising words if they are undeserving, nor do I tarnish those characters gossipmongers would devour.”
