Mary didn’t know and couldn’t say whether “like” had turned to “love,” but it didn’t matter very much to her. What mattered most was that she knew she returned the feeling. He said that she had always had all of his attention, but the reverse also held true. From the day they met, she had always noticed him far more than anyone else.
The question in her mind was, could she let the past be the past? Was she ready to let go of the many times he had hurt her so that they could move together into whatever the future held? She did not know.
She supposed it would likely depend on his explanation of his past behaviors which he had promised to give her later. Itwould also depend on what that future together looked like. She did not know that, either.
By the time she reached the back of the room, she had grown frustrated at the number of things she did not know, and she sighed a bit as she turned back around to face the room.
The crowd had grown, and the room was now full of people greeting each other and discussing all the little things life had thrown their way since last they met. Mary found a seat and settled in to wait for the first dance.
When it finally came, the experience was like nothing Mary had ever imagined. Alan was very solicitous in guiding her to the dance floor, and his arm was strong under her hand.
Mary had known Alan Goulding for years. She knew what he looked like. Yet, somehow, standing across from him in the dance, it felt as though she had never truly seen him. He moved with strength and grace, though there was some imperfection there as well.
When he took her hand as they circled each other, there was warmth that passed from his hand up her arm and straight to her heart. So much so, that by the end of the dance she was decidedly flushed, though it wasn’t a particularly intense dance.
Mary had never felt like this before, and the sensations and feelings confused her. At the same time, however, the familiarity of Alan’s face looking upon her with pleasure and warmth somehow made it all bearable and even pleasant.
They didn’t speak much, but the silence was not awkward. It felt as though there was nothing that needed to be said.
When Alan escorted Mary away from the dance floor, he bowed to her and said, “Thank you very much for the dance, Mary.” His eyes were aglow with some kind of intense feelingthat Mary was not ready to comprehend. Nevertheless, she could feel herself responding in kind.
“Thank you, Mr. Goulding,” she said. It was the first time she had called him by anything other than Alan, but somehow it seemed necessary to establish some form of formality simply to help her cope with so much that was new. To take away any possible offence he might have taken from her form of address, she added with a small smile, “It was a pleasure.”
Alan studied her face for a moment. Then he smiled in return and said, “I do hope you have a good evening, Mary.”
She watched him as he walked away. Even when he was out of sight, her gaze lingered in that direction for quite some time afterward.
Chapter 9
Elizabeth was tired and, for the first time in her life, was not overly happy to be at an assembly. She had just come back from London yesterday after a month of upheaval and learning, and she simply was not settled back into her normal life, yet.
The people who surrounded her, however, cared little for her feelings. She was greeted by neighbors and friends alike with smiles and greetings of “Welcome back.” The first question everyone asked was “How was London?” but it was a question she could not answer, because the answer was not simple.
Her mother was doing an excellent job of spreading Elizabeth’s news, and it wasn’t long before those who came up to her cried, “Congratulations!” instead of their previous tired questions. But that was even worse, for now she was peppered with dozens of questions about her new fortune.
She was so surrounded by her neighbors that she missed the moment their new neighbors entered, and she was nowhere near her mother when Sir William introduced them, so she didn’t even know which of the strange men who now circulated among her neighbors was the celebrated Mr. Bingley.
She had no attention to spare to even attempt to discover it, because those who wished to speak with her blocked out her sight of anyone else.
John Lucas was the first to ask her for a dance, but his expression as he did so was rather odd. Instead of the normal friendly smile due to the best friend of his sister, he greeted her with a grin and a look which was altogether too flirtatious. Instead of it drawing her in, she was utterly repulsed by such a look, but she could not refuse to dance with a young man who she had known for ten years.
That was just the beginning. For four hours, her attention was demanded by first one person then another. Her dances were claimed with strange and unfamiliar phrasing and heated gazes by men who should be all ease and friendliness.
By the end of the eighth set, Elizabeth was exhausted. She had managed to keep her ninth set free by writing her own name on her dance card for that set. Those who had noticed it gave her a curious look, but she had not commented or explained.
As soon as the dance started, she made her way to the back of the room and exited through the door that led to the large balcony overlooking the gardens. Breathing in the fresh cold air steadied her nerves for a few moments, and she slowly walked toward the balustrade. She knew the cold air would chase her back inside soon enough, but for now, she relished the solitude.
It wasn’t complete solitude, however. Once her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, she noticed that there was already a gentleman there. He was one of the visitors, though she did not know which one. She could not see him well enough to make out any details, but she could clearly tell that he was the tallest of the group.
He looked at her briefly, but without even a nod of acknowledgment, he quickly turned back around to stare out at the gardens which were behind the assembly rooms. They were fairly large since they were often used for gatherings in the summer.
Oddly, Elizabeth was relieved by his lack of friendliness. She had her fill of overly solicitous gentlemen for the evening, and having someone ignore her existence was exactly what she wished.
When she reached the balustrade, she placed her hands on the cold stone and leaned out over it. She never knew why she did this, but she always had. Anytime there was a railing of any sort, she tended to lean against it as if she were trying to break free of its restraint.
She breathed in the solitude and let it calm her nerves for a minute or two. The silence was unexpectedly broken, however, when the gentleman suddenly said, “I wish I was home.”
The sentence was uttered with such sincerity, such longing, that Elizabeth couldn’t help but reply, “Me, too.”
