Chapter Forty-One #2
“Yes, well, my point is, I have finally realized something about us.” Gilbert cleared his throat and nodded firmly.
“We have always gotten along so well that we should continue our friendship, but in a new manner.” He paused to see if her face showed any signs of the coming proposal, but could perceive nothing on her face.
Was she cleverly making sure she betrayed nothing?
Plunging ahead, he asked, “Nancy—Miss Slade—will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
He had expected a squeal of joy, or for her to burst into happy tears. Was that not the manner in which most women reacted when presented with such an opportunity? Instead, she stared at him, frowning slightly.
“Before I reply to your remarkable proposal, Gilbert, will you answer a question?” At his nod, she continued.
“When we saw each other two weeks ago, you said you found no heiress to marry you during your time in town. You made it sound as if you had not even been looking for a wife. However, I have it on very good authority that you did, in fact, intend to propose to a wealthy young lady with a very rich dowry, but that she rejected you. Is this all true?”
Gilbert’s mind spun as he tried to think of a proper response. How did she know about Miss Wells and her rejection of him?
“Who said such a thing?” he asked, stalling for time.
“I should not wish to name my source of this gossip, but, as I said, it is a very reliable one. Tell me honestly, Gilbert. Were you intending to propose to a certain Miss Diana Wells, I believe she is called? And did she turn you down for a future duke?”
Gilbert pressed his lips firmly together—furious that someone had revealed his embarrassment—Dorothea, perhaps? His older sister must have been overheard speaking of his disappointment. He took a deep breath.
“I did think of it, yes, but in truth, I am grateful she accepted the other proposal before I could make mine. For, thinking on it, we would not have been a very good match.”
Nancy shook her head and gave a rueful smile.
“Oh, but fifteen thousand would go a long way to overcoming that mismatch, I believe. After all, you have oft told me of your disinclination to enter the church. If Miss Wells had said yes, you would have been able to refuse taking orders and live a luxurious life—something else that you have stated with regularity to me is your heart’s desire.
“While I do not have a dowry of fifteen thousand, my father is rather well off. Therefore, I must admit, Gilbert, that your proposal to me seems to come more from a hope for salvation from becoming a curate than from… true romance and affection.”
“I have always cared for you, Nancy,” Gilbert stammered, watching his proposal collapsing before his eyes. “We would make a good match, I believe.”
Nancy nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Indeed, we have, as you say, always been friends, but I must now ask this quite pointedly—are you making me an offer truly out of love? Or is it for the financial comfort it might bring you?”
Gilbert felt his mouth fall open at her bold assertion. He shut it a moment, then blurted, “Most young ladies of your class would leap at the chance to marry into the Kendall family. Are you saying you will reject me? You must be mad!”
“Mad? Well, yes, perhaps some would call me that. Your family has a good estate and reputation. I would imagine most young ladies of—as you so nicely put it—my class would eagerly accept your offer. However, I wish to be asked to marry in such a manner that leaves me no doubt that the young man making the offer could not imagine his life without me. Knowing you so recently were set to propose to an heiress makes me feel very much like a sorry second choice. I could never be happy thinking the man I married cared more for the financial security our match might bring him over my companionship.”
Gilbert jumped up and said fiercely, “You think so little of me? You think it is only about money? I do care for you, Nancy.” At her raised eyebrow, he lowered his gaze, continuing softly, “Truly, I do.”
“Then where have you been these past weeks since returning to Doddington? Have you come to ask me on chaperoned rides in the country? Or have you come calling in the usual manner of a courting gentleman? I have not seen you since that day I was working in the tea shop. I have heard not a solitary word from you, even as my father has been so ill.” Nancy’s voice cracked, she turned away and covered her face with her hands.
Gilbert jerked his head up to stare at her. “What? Your father is ill? I had not heard this unhappy news. What ails him?”
“I do not know. He fell and struck his head. He was unconscious for more than a day and still seems quite confused and unable to attend to his business matters. Precisely what caused the fall, I cannot say. I do not know if the reason for his accident is why he continues to be so… addled in his brain, or if it all comes from his striking his head and he might yet recover.” She fumbled for a handkerchief and wept into it.
Gilbert rose and sat beside her. “I am most saddened to hear of this, Nancy. Had I known, I certainly would have come earlier to condole with you. Tell me—who has been attending him?”
“The apothecary has come and prescribed a draught, but it does no good.”
“I see.”
The two sat together in silence as Nancy worked to compose herself. Finally, she stood and stiffly extended a hand to Gilbert.
“I have been needlessly harsh towards you. I must claim my deep worry over my dear Papa as my excuse for any rudeness. I thank you for the honor of your declaration, but I must decline your offer. Good day, Mr. Kendall.”
Gilbert felt her formal speech like a knife in his chest. He nodded, took her hand, and said, “I am so grieved to hear of your father’s illness.
I hope it will be of short duration and that he will soon recover.
” When Nancy remained silent with her eyes downcast, he released her hand and said his farewells.
Then he exited the house, mounted his horse, and slowly rode home.