Chapter Nine #3
But this was all extremely confusing. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Louisa sat on the settee and took a fortifying sip of tea.
The tea warmed her, at least; it was the same vaguely spicy blend the Greystone house had been serving for years, and it tasted like Louisa’s childhood.
She’d spend many afternoons in this sitting room, in fact, struggling to sit still while her mother visited with Fletcher’s, or chasing Fletcher around the furniture, or defeating Fletcher at chess as they sat upon the floor in front of the fireplace.
Fletcher had been a joyful and open child, endlessly curious, often mischievous, but he had always looked out for Louisa.
He’d indulge Louisa’s whims until they became dangerous or unless he saw them playing out in a way that would make her unhappy.
He was older, yes, and like a big brother, he took care of her, but there was something else here, too, now that they were adults.
Fletcher had become more guarded, especially since Louisa’s engagement had been announced.
Fletcher resumed his seat across from her and looked at her warily.
“So what will you do now?” Fletcher asked.
“I don’t know. I suppose I owe it to my fiancé to give him another chance.”
He frowned. “Yes. But say…say he is dull. You find no common ground. Say he can’t kiss you the way you want him to. Will you still marry him?”
“I don’t know. Am I dooming myself to a dull life if I do?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“I don’t think good looks are enough to hang a marriage on. People tell me all the time that he and I make an attractive couple, but if we have nothing to talk about… But then I think, maybe it doesn’t matter, if my only task is to produce his heirs.”
“That should not be your only task.”
“No?”
“No. I may not know much about marriage, but I do know that I have friends in happy ones, and they treat their wives as friends and companions. Hugh still struggles a bit with that head injury, so Adele helps him. When he has memory lapses, she helps him fill in the blanks. And Grace practically runs Owen’s estate in Wales, and she still makes art on the side. ”
Louisa nodded. That sounded more like the marriage Louisa wanted for herself. Not to settle for dullness with Rotherfeld. But if not Rotherfeld, then who?
“I say all this to point out,” Fletcher said, “your marriage need not be one where you just put up with a husband who you like to look at. That would be dull and unsatisfying. And maybe I exaggerate Rotherfeld’s faults.
Maybe he does have interests that are worth discussing.
Maybe you’ll help him manage his property or take up some interesting hobbies, or…
I don’t know. But what I do know, my dearest Louisa, is that you are one of the best people I know, and you deserve to have a marriage to someone you adore and who adores you, with happiness and good health and, well, physical relations and all of it.
Because I know how curious and passionate you are, and you would not do well with a dull husband.
I fear it would be a prison for you. But I don’t know Rotherfeld well. ”
In other words, Fletcher did not care for Rotherfeld. And if Louisa’s closest friend did not like her husband, that could be a problem.
Louisa regarded him now. Fletcher was in his typical daytime uniform of a neatly tailored blue coat and close-fitting gray trousers.
Not the height of fashion, exactly, although the trousers were more modern than the breeches he often wore with more formal outfits.
His black shoes were shined enough for Louisa to see her reflection in them.
His hair was combed away from his face, and he was clean-shaven, but Louisa suddenly found herself curious.
Did he have hair on his chest? Men did, didn’t they?
Did he have the sort of muscular figure the Greek statues did?
Was his body softer? She didn’t think so, based on the cut of his coat, but it was difficult to tell.
And, if he kissed her as he had just done, how would it feel if he…
She squirmed on the settee, an uncomfortable ache forming between her legs.
But she was not supposed to desire Fletcher.
“What are we to do?” she asked.
“We?”
“Did you hate kissing me?”
“No. On the contrary.”
Louisa took a deep breath. “You’ve never…that is, you and I have always enjoyed our friendship, but it never felt like, I never expected of you… I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Are you asking me something?”
“I’m old. Well, not old, but I’m a fair number of years from being a debutante, and I have somehow escaped the curse of being labeled a spinster, although I know much of the ton views me as an eccentric.
But the truth is that I’ve had a few seasons with no proposals, so when Rotherfeld showed interest, I thought, well, here is my future.
Here is a man who wants me and is willing to offer for me, even if I may be on the older side, even if I may be a bit odd.
But since he proposed, nothing has played out the way I expected. ”
“What did you expect?”
“I expected… more. I thought I’d be happier. But instead, I have doubts.”
Fletcher nodded slowly.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I shouldn’t say it.”
“Please tell me.”
He frowned. “I didn’t want to do this, because I don’t want you to feel pressure, and who you marry should be your choice.”
“But?”
“If remaining unmarried is your fear, you have nothing to fear.”
“How can you say that?”
Fletcher hesitated, but he said, “Put it this way. I know that you and I have a relationship that is not physical or romantic, but we are great friends and never run out of things to talk about. So if you decide to end your relationship with Rotherfeld, and if you cannot find another husband, I will marry you.”
At first, Louisa was excited by the idea. It made a lot of sense. She and Fletcher were fond of each other. That kiss showed they had some sparks between them. She would be willing to bet Fletcher would be able to pleasure her in bed the way Rotherfeld never would. They could make a marriage work.
But then she heard what he’d actually said. If. “I’m not…you shouldn’t settle for me.”
“That’s not what I’d be doing.”
“I don’t need your pity, either.” Anger and hurt mounting, Louisa stood back up. She ran to the door and shouted, “Hoskins. I’m ready to leave. Ready my carriage.”
He’d been sitting on a chair near the front door, snoozing. He startled awake and said, “Yes, my lady.”
“Louisa, wait, what are you doing?” Fletcher said.
“I don’t need you to offer for me just because I have no other prospects. I’d rather be a spinster than have you offer for me out of pity.”
“It’s not pity! I—”
“I heard what you said. If I break off my engagement to Rotherfeld, and if I can’t find anyone else because I’m too homely and charmless to find a husband, then you will consider offering for me out of the goodness of your heart.”
“That is not what I said. I merely meant that—”
“I’m leaving, Fletcher. But thank you for giving me what I came here for.” Then she stormed down the hall. Hoskins helped her into her coat, and she walked out the door.