The garden blurred, and I blinked hard, willing myself not to cry. David was my friend. I was a joy to him, and crying wouldn’t leave him happy. It would leave him worried that he’d hurt me when, in fact, he’d been one of very few people to understand me and help me through my difficulty.
But my nose betrayed me with a sniff. David pulled back and searched my face.
I could pretend a lot of things, but there was no chance I could convince him I was unaffected by our parting.
He lifted a thumb to my cheek and wiped the smallest bit of moisture from it. “What is wrong?”
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t answer him.
“Anna, please.”
I wanted to laugh. Wasn’t it obvious? When a lady cried right before breaking an engagement and saying farewell to her fiancé, one would think it was obvious that she didn’t want to do either of those things.
And I really didn’t want to do either of those things.
We hadn’t even had two weeks together, so I knew I was being ridiculous, but days spent with David had meant the world to me. Tree climbing, walking together, singing, cleaning thatch, feeling as though someone appreciated me—I wanted all those things, and they were being ripped from me.
By the one person I couldn’t open up to about how much this hurt.
Or could I?
Was it so important that he remember me as a flitting brightness that came and went from his life that I couldn’t take a chance by telling him I didn’t want to end the engagement? If I wasn’t going to end up marrying him anyway, did it matter if I told him how much I’d started to dream about staying with him?
Because if there was even the slightest chance David would want me to stay, I wanted to give that chance life.
I met David’s eyes. They were filled with concern. I inhaled his scent and forced myself to say words I would never be able to take back. “Do I have to end our engagement?”
David swallowed hard, but he didn’t look away. “Do you want to wait a week after all? I thought you said that would be more work.”
“No.” My hand slid up his arm and grasped at the fur on his collar. “I mean, after carefully considering all the paths my life could take, I strongly prefer the one where this engagement doesn’t end at all. Not unless it ends in the more traditional way,” I took a deep breath, hoping it would calm the racing of my heart. “With a marriage.”
Snow fell around us, but that couldn’t account for how frozen David stood. His eyes stopped moving, caught at a point somewhere just below my eyes. His back stiffened, and his fingers tightened at my waist.
It was obvious enough from his reaction what his answer would be, but still, I waited for it. I’d taken a chance—a bad one, it seemed—but I would not leave before hearing his response. He wasn’t the only one who could propose marriage at inopportune times.
The first part of him to move was his eyes. They came back into focus and searched mine. “That’s not what we agreed upon.”
I swallowed and straightened my spine. The tears, which had been threatening to fall only moments ago, had burned away in my determination. “I know. And I’m sorry, but when we made that agreement, I had no idea how much I would love being your fiancée or how quickly I’d come to cherish my relationship with your sister. How could I have known that the young boy I knew would redefine himself as one of the best men I have ever met? You make me feel as though I have myself back, and leaving you is like watching the best parts of me slip away.”
David’s breathing was coming faster, and I didn’t think it was because he was interested in my proposal. He looked as scared as he’d been when he was younger. My feelings about him didn’t seem to be helping my cause. They were murky, even to me. Had I fallen in love with him? Or was I only scared of going back to living life on my own? I didn’t even know if it mattered what the answer to that question was; everything I’d told him was the truth. I didn’t want to break our engagement. I wanted to be David Tate’s fiancée. I wanted to be his wife.
But I should probably think of a more practical way to explain myself. “I know I must seem old and unfortunate to you, but because of that, I’m also willing to be humble. I never thought I would begfor anything, except perhaps food for Mama if life got extremely bad. But I’m begging you now, David, if you think there is any chance you could come to love me as a wife, to consider my proposal. Consider me.”
“Anna.” David’s eyebrows furrowed so deeply they created a solidVbetween them, and his voice shook.
Mine shook as well. “I’m sorry I’m not younger or as beautiful as I once was. I’m sorry I have no connections to—”
A hand came over my mouth, and David’s eyes hid some deeper turmoil. It was the closest thing to anger I’d seen in them when he was addressing me. “Stop apologizing for things I care nothing about. I don’t want that.”
I waited patiently for him to remove his hand from my lips, and eventually, he did.
“But do you want me?” I asked, and those blasted tears were suddenly blurring my vision again. Over the past few days, David had made me think he felt as drawn to me as I was to him. His kiss had been so tender, and only a moment ago, he hadn’t wanted to let me go without having one more chance to hold me. Our waltz hadn’t been about checking the last thing off a list. “Or could you perhaps want me if we had more time together?”
One of David’s hands fell from my waist to his side. “Does this have anything to do with Mr. Green and that disgusting bill he gave you?”
I shook my head, my right side missing his warmth. “A marriage would solve that problem because of my inheritance, but I wouldn’t ask this of you for only that. Mama and I can find a way to solve it on our own. I asked you because I think I might want to marry you.” A sad, soft laugh passed over my lips. “And I’m foolish enough to ask you even though I thought you would say no. We aren’t very different after all, are we?”
“I’m afraid we’re not.” His eyes searched mine. “If you give me a few months, I could have that amount in hand.”
