“And?”
“We have spoken of this several times. You know I am averse to the idea of marrying. The last thing I ever want is a man to propose to me. I declined.”
“That was smart of you.”
“You don’t know anything about him!” After a brief silence, she laughed.
“What is so amusing?”
“I am laughing at myself. Here I am affronted on his behalf, even though I turned him down most fervently. But I suppose my point stands: you don’t know anything about him, so you cannot say I was smart to rebuff him.”
“I can, though!” She leveled a look at him. He winked and said, “If you had accepted, you wouldn’t be here; therefore it was smart of you to decline.”
Effie was careful to keep his tone light, teasing, but he meant every word. He meant every word most ardently.
She laughed again, which had been his aim, but he found himself desperate to know what she would say next. “I would have declined regardless, but he only asked because he was laboring under the weight of moral distress after our initial liaison. That is a terrible reason to propose marriage. We were not in love.”
They were not in love. Was she implying that she would have accepted, had they been? No. She hadjustreminded him that her aversion to the idea of marriage itself had prompted her refusal.
He was safe.
No sooner he had that thought than it was replaced by another: Safe from what?
“And the other gentleman?” he asked, careful once again not to allow his tone to betray the urgency he felt. “What kind of numbskull was he to not want to propose to an incomparable such as yourself? I can’t believetwogentlemen could make your intimate acquaintance and not fall in love with you.”
“We were in love, in that case. At least, I thought we were.Iwas.”
What Effie thought wasNo. What Effie said was “What was his . . . dilemma, then? Why didn’t he come up to scratch?”
“He didn’t come up to scratch because he was not a he.Hername was Edith.” She studied his face. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Effie was set back on his heels, but when he stopped to think about it, he found he wasn’t surprised. “I see.”
“And?” Julianna prompted.
“And what?” Am I supposed to say that I’m sorry you could not marry your love?” He paused, trying to think what to say that was true but would not paint him in an unflatteringly possessive light. “I’mnotsorry, because again, had you, you wouldn’t be here.”
“You’re not scandalized.”
“No.” That, at least was the truth.
“Perhaps you . . . understand. Understand in a deeper way, I mean.”
Oh. Yes. She had revealed something private, something she was afraid of being judged for. She was searching for understanding. And here he had been focused not on that aspect of her liaison, but the fact that she had fallen in love. That she had been in love with someone who wasn’t him. That bit made him uncomfortable. Jealous. And being jealous made him feel . . . small.
“I do understand,” he said, wanting to put her at ease, even if he was confused about his own feelings. “Theoretically. Until recently, Marsden and Harcourt apparently thought I favored gentlemen.”
“And do you?”
“I think I favor . . . everyone. Theoretically. Is that possible?”
“I think so. I can’t speak for society at large, but that is how I have always been.”
“At the same time, though, historically I have favored no one. I find the expression of ardent urges impossible to imagine outside the context of a close friendship.”
“Hmm.”
“It is not the same for you?”
