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“Do you not wish for such happiness as that?”
He flushed all the way to the roots of his hair. “I do.” He turned to her, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and looked away.
Her spirits sank further.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, not looking at her. “But you must understand that I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. I wanted to be absolutely sure before...” Now he turned to face her. “The last time, you chose someone else over me. Considering how close you’ve become to Manchester now, I couldn’t bear to risk a second humiliation.”
She did not bother to hide her surprise. “I was engaged to his brother, and we were—are—heavily involved in operating a charity together. We are friends, nothing more.”
He peered at her, and Harriett’s insides began to churn. Manchester was nothing to her—at least not in the romantic sense. True, there was a definite attraction, and she had begun to genuinely admire and respect him of late; but ever since their truce, he had refrained from making any sort of advances toward her. “I can see where one might assume—”
“It isn’t that I don’t want to,” he cut in, “but I must know for certain you really want to marry me, Harriett. I don’t wish to be your second choice.”
A lump formed in her throat. He did not deserve to be lied to. “I will admit I sometimes feel we might be better suited for other people, but I also believe we would make a very good match.” She was determined to bend in order to make it so. “It is simply a matter of adjusting to each other, and that takes time. Many fine marriages are made thus.”
“They are.” He sighed. “I am only being honest, Harriett. I want you to choose me because you want me.”
Her stomach clenched with fear. “Are you not in love with me?”
“I was, once,” he said slowly. “I suppose I never really got over it. I’d hoped this time it would be different without...”
“Without William in the way,” she finished for him.
“Yes.”
“Then what is stopping you now?”
He looked at her then, and she saw wariness in his eyes. “I don’t think you even realize it, do you?”
“Realize what?”
“The way you look at him.”
A shiver of foreboding ran down her spine. “At whom?”
His smile turned rueful. “Need I say it?”
“But I already told you—”
“I want you to take some time and think on it, Harriett,” interrupted Russell, his manner gentle but firm. “I know your father is sending you to Berkshire to be with your sister during her convalescence. You can tell me your decision after—”
“But there is no need for delay,” she said with a breathless laugh. “I’m quite ready to—”
He stopped her with a gesture. “I don’t want you to decide now. In fact, I won’t accept an answer now. I will hear your decision upon your return and not a day sooner. And Harriett, I want you to understand I would rather you decide against it than to have us unhappily bound together for the rest of our lives. Not just for your sake, but for mine. I know you would do your best to make things pleasant, but there is a vast difference between pleasant and happy. Think carefully before you decide your course.”
She could only nod in answer as he bowed over her hand and left her standing there, aghast. Well, it was a proposal—of sorts.
~ * ~
Roland watched Russell leave and knew something was wrong. Harriett wore the queerest expression on her pale face, and her hands gripped the rail so tightly her knuckles were white. Something had happened between them. Something untoward, from the look of things.
“I thought I might have the courtyard planted with trees,” he said, coming up to lean against the rail beside her.
“What?” She blinked at him in confusion.
“And the rest of the grounds ought to have some green, as well. Some shade might be nice in summer. For the children,” he clarified, watching her closely. “I would have thought you’d be happy to agree.”
“Yes, of course. You must certainly do as you think best,” she said, still distracted. She colored beneath his gaze and looked away.
