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“You are resorting to flattery now?” she asked. “What is it that you want?”
“I was hoping that we could become reacquainted.”
“And why do you wish that?”
“We got along quite well when we were younger.”
“I recall it differently.”
Mr. Huxley pressed his lips together, then asked, “You are not going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“To what are you referring?”
“You have rejected my offers of marriage in the past, but I was hoping you would reconsider me as a suitor,” he said. “I feel if you got to know me, you would discover that we would suit.”
“I doubt that to be true.”
“Will you not at least give it a chance?” he asked, his expression hopeful.
Daphne sighed. “I am flattered, but—”
He held up his hand. “Don’t reject me out of turn yet.”
“Why not?”
He took a step closer to her. “I know I have done poorly these past few months trying to express how I feel,” he said, “but I do care for you, deeply.”
“You do?” she asked, taken aback.
“I’m afraid my previous approach of teasing you unmercifully did not work.”
“No, it did not.”
Mr. Huxley opened his mouth but promptly closed it. Finally, he spoke up. “I must admit that I become flustered when I speak to you, and I can’t seem to control the words coming out of my mouth.”
“You have no reason to be nervous around me,” Daphne said, taking pity on him.
“Do I dare hope that you return my affections?”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but my position has not changed,” she replied. “I do not think we would suit.”
Disappointment crossed Mr. Huxley’s face. “I do apologize for bothering you today.”
“You did no such thing.”
Mr. Huxley bowed. “Good day, Miss Locke.”
“Good day, Mr. Huxley.”
He started for the door, then spun back around to face her. “I am not ready to give up on you,” he declared.
“I wish you would.”
He advanced and stopped in front of her. “Every great love story is riddled with opposition, and I view this as ours.”
“We do not have a love story,” Daphne asserted.
A bright smile came to his face. “Not yet.”
