Epilogue 2 #2
Edward expected Darcy to complete his thought or add something else, but the man had stopped speaking as if he had already made his point. To Edward, however, it was not as complete or as self-evident as it apparently was to Darcy.
In the end Edward left Darcy House not feeling any closer to a solution. Truly, it had been too much to hope for. Perhaps, in the end, he would just have to take his chances and pick the prettiest of the ladies that his father pushed at him.
Still, now that the idea had entered his head, he could not shake the wistful thought…if only it could be Miss King.
~~~~~
Edward left shortly afterward, not feeling any closer to a solution. He returned that evening for Elizabeth’s dinner party, though he wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.
He was pleased to find that Miss King was seated next to him at dinner.
He had known she would be there. After all, she was staying with Elizabeth once again for the Season.
However, he hadn’t dared hope he would be fortunate enough to be seated with her at dinner.
At least this way, he wouldn’t be required to put up with some lady’s flirting or insinuations the entire time.
They chatted easily as old friends when they spoke, but she did not have the kind of magnetism that would make him neglect his dinner partner on his other side. Fortunately, his other partner was not a simpering young maiden either. Unfortunately, she was the mother of one.
As dinner wore on Edward spent more time avoiding speaking to the matron as she gradually increased the frequency with which she mentioned and praised her daughter, clearly attempting to bring the young lady to his attention.
So, he pulled Miss King into conversation far more than was strictly polite.
As he spoke to Miss King, he paid more attention to her appearance than he ever had before.
Her eyes, which were friendly and inviting, were completely ordinary.
They were a light brown, and they were framed by light brown eyelashes.
Her hair, too, was light brown, and her curls tended to be wispy rather than full.
The freckles on her face, which he had heard other gentlemen complain of, were adorable. They gave interest to her face and made her appear younger than she was. Despite the freckles, she had a smooth complexion and a slight bloom on her cheeks which spoke of youth and good health.
By the time dessert was served, Edward’s attention had moved on to her lips, and he began watching their shape as she spoke. They were not particularly plump, but the way they moved around her words made ideas float through his mind.
When an intense urge to kiss her flooded his mind, Edward looked away from her suddenly and stared at his food, desperately willing the thought to disappear.
“My Lord?” she said when he suddenly looked away. “Have I said something to displease you?”
“Not in the least,” he protested, though he still would not look at her. “You were absolutely correct that this chocolate mousse is divine. I have never tasted its like, and the idea of serving it with whipped cream rather than whipped egg whites was a stroke of genius.”
“Very well, my Lord,” she said, though she did not resume the conversation.
For some reason, the way she called him “my Lord” rankled. He had given her permission many times to call him Edward or Aylesbury, but she had never taken him up on that offer. It had never bothered him until now.
Now, however, it felt as though her way of addressing him was a barrier that he wanted to smash to smithereens. He wanted…needed…to hear her call him by name, not just Aylesbury but Edward.
What was happening?
Edward had known Miss King for nine years. Nine years. And not once in that time had he ever been attracted to her in the least. Now, after a single conversation with Darcy, he was suddenly seeing the young lady in a new light. Was Darcy a wizard? Had he cast some sort of charm on Edward?
Somehow, he made it through the rest of dinner without speaking much more to Miss King, though he could sense her confusion and doubt at his sudden withdrawal. He promised himself that everything would right itself after dinner when he could see her standing up.
He had always thought that her figure, or lack thereof, was her greatest flaw. So, he was certain that whatever madness had overtaken him would disappear once he saw her in the drawing room.
Upon entering the room after dinner, Edward thought his plan had worked, that the madness was gone. She was as she had always been, and he was relieved of the desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
He turned his attention to another of the ladies present and began chatting amicably, though he couldn’t help but occasionally watch Miss King.
As time passed, it began happening all over again. When she was still, and her gown did little to show off her figure, all was well, but when he saw her walking across the room to speak with someone else, he felt an intense urge to follow her, to hold her.
Images and fantasies began racing through his mind, but with a supreme effort of will, he put a halt to most of them. He well remembered the lecture he had received from Elizabeth many years ago when she caught him looking at some of her guests with such thoughts in his mind.
She had informed him that, not only was it disrespectful, but it clearly showed in his expression, and anyone who saw him would immediately know what he was thinking.
As the evening wore on, Edward began to realize that he was, in fact, very attracted to Miss King, but he could not understand why this had happened so suddenly. He left the party somewhat early simply to hide his feelings, as they were becoming more and more unruly as the evening progressed.
In the quiet of his own home, he was able to ponder the situation more clearly.
All that had changed was that he had pondered what it would be like to marry her.
It was easy and obvious to imagine Miss King eating dinner with him or keeping him company on long evenings.
It was easy to imagine her doing the charity work which would be expected of her on his estate.
It was easy to picture her in his front parlor, working quietly on some handicraft or other.
Somehow, though, picturing her in these settings had lit some king of fire of attraction within him. If she was in his home, in his life, in such settings, she would also be in the mistress’ suite, fulfilling that role as well.
Now that no one was around to see his expression, Edward, with the ignorant selfishness of youth and privilege, allowed himself to picture her there.
~~~~~
Two weeks passed, and Edward took every opportunity to see Miss King that he could, though he did not call on her, specifically. By the end of those two weeks, all of his doubts had been laid to rest.
Miss Mary King was a delight. She was kind. She was warm. She was cheerful. And when she was in motion, she was as attractive to Edward as the most sultry courtesan.
He didn’t fully understand why he was only now noticing. Edward had never been one for deep or extended contemplation. All he cared about was that his only hesitation for making her his wife was gone.
With determination, he called at Darcy House with the specific purpose of proposing marriage. When he entered the parlor where Miss King and Elizabeth were chatting, he asked if he could have a word alone with Miss King, expecting a ready reply in the affirmative.
Instead, Elizabeth looked at him sharply and said, “Would you mind if I had a word with you first, Brother?”
Edward did not like being thwarted, but he had a great deal of respect for his older sister. So, he said, “If you wish.”
She led him down the hall to the back drawing room. When they were seated, she said, “Are you planning to propose to Mary?”
“I am, though I don’t see why that should matter to you,” he said.
“Have you even considered what our father will do when he learns of this?” asked Elizabeth. For some reason she was furious.
“I suppose I haven’t,” he said. “Father never pays any attention to me. I don’t think we’ve even spoken in more than a year, and that was only because you invited both of us to the same dinner party last year.”
“He will pay attention to this, I assure you,” said Elizabeth.
“Mary has no titled relations other than her uncle and no titled connections either through friendship or political alliances. Father will be furious, and he will not let either of you off as easily as he let me off. While you can weather the storm well enough, Mary is the one who will suffer for it. Can you truly be selfish enough to want that for her?”
All at once, Edward’s entire perspective on life, love, and marriage shifted.
He was selfish and impulsive. He knew this about himself.
In this, he was very much like his father.
However, he was not oblivious in his selfishness, at least not completely, and he genuinely tried not to hurt anyone else.
He could immediately see exactly what Elizabeth was referring to, and he was immediately ashamed.
He wanted to marry Miss King. He needed her in his life.
Now that he knew this about himself, he could not deny that she was the perfect wife for him.
But, he also wished to protect her, to make her happy.
Her natural cheerfulness was more precious to him than all the jewels and wealth his family owned.
He could not ask her to stand up to his father, not in this way.
He hung his head and said, “I suppose then that I should leave.”
“It is for the best, Brother,” said Elizabeth. “You have spent nine years being content with friendship from Mary. I am certain you will recover soon enough.”