Chapter Five
George made a second circuit of the garden.
Caroline never waited so long for her daily walk.
He had joined her for this part of her day any number of times over the past five or six years, ever since he’d realized how fully she’d captured his heart.
Those afternoons, along with a great many evenings playing cards and mornings spent discussing topics of interest in the library, had rendered the state of his affections permanent.
He had come to Gloucestershire fully expecting to be permitted those same indulgences. When her willingness to receive him had been cast into doubt the night before, he’d thought his request for three weeks of leniency had secured his reception once more. It seemed that he had been mistaken.
“Is that you, George?” He would have known Mr. Downy’s booming voice anywhere. Indeed, his future father-in-law was striding up the garden walk toward him. “I see you arrived here ahead of Edward and me.”
“Tom and I reached Downy House yesterday.” He offered the expected short bow. “How was your journey?”
Mr. Downy waved that off. “None of these formalities, boy. We’re to be family.” He chuckled. “Truth be told, I find it a little odd that we are not yet family. You’ve felt like one of us for so long.”
“I do not know that I have thanked you and Mrs. Downy properly for having received me so warmly all these years.” Indeed, they had been more of a family to him than his own had ever been.
“Nonsense.” Mr. Downy slapped him on the shoulder. “Having you as an honorary son was ‘thank you’ enough. Though you’ll not be ‘honorary’ much longer.”
At least Caroline’s father was pleased at the prospect. “Another thing for which I need to thank you. I am certain what I had to offer paled in comparison to others whom you had intended to approach.”
Mr. Downy motioned for George to walk beside him. “I had held out some hope, George, that you meant to offer for her. Edward insisted that you did.”
“Edward? How did he know?”
Mr. Downy’s sizable shoulders shook even as his mouth turned upward. “Edward is not so thickheaded as his brother. He has suspected for a few years now that you were more than passingly fond of our Caroline.”
George hadn’t realized that anyone had taken note of his growing devotion to her. “She is not at all happy about this, sir. I’ve had to enter into something of a devil’s bargain, I am afraid.”
“What is this bargain?”
They turned the corner and passed the rose bower. George wondered if his white offerings had done anything to argue his case to Caroline. He’d heard nothing from her.
“While I had no guarantee that her feelings for me were anything but that of a friend, I could not imagine her being satisfied with a marriage as uncaring and lifeless as she was likely to find with those other gentlemen. I am not saying they would have severely mistreated her, they simply wouldn’t—” How did he put into words the fears he’d hardly dared voice even to himself.
“They wouldn’t love her. And I cannot be certain they would have treated her with the kindness and thoughtfulness that she deserves. ”
“You wished to save her from that?”
George nodded firmly and decisively. “She deserves to be loved.”
“Then what is this terrible bargain you have been forced into?”
“Coercing her into accepting me would not secure her happiness. Indeed, I very much fear it would doom our marriage from the beginning.” He cringed at the very thought.
“I asked her to allow me three weeks in which to prove that we could be happy together, that I did indeed choose her for herself and not for reasons of social standing or pity or any of the many nonsensical notions she is currently entertaining.”
“What is the consequence should you fail in this lofty goal?”
George swallowed again the lump that never seemed to leave his throat.
“I will release her from our engagement with no arguments, no bitterness, and no retracting of the other aspects of my offer.” He wanted to make certain Mr. Downy knew that the family’s financial circumstances would not suffer should George fail.
“Oh, good heavens, son.” Mr. Downy released a long, drawn-out whistle. “You’ve set yourself to the task of fully wooing her in a mere three weeks? That is indeed a devil’s bargain if ever I’ve heard one.”
“Especially in light of the fact that she doesn’t seem willing to let me try.” He looked around the empty garden. “She has even forgone her usual walk in order to avoid me.”
“I know my girl, and I believe I know what she is struggling against.” Mr. Downy tucked his fingers into the pocket of his waistcoat, his jacket pulling backward.
“Caroline has ever struggled with the fear of losing people. Every time I left for London she begged to know when I would return, pleaded with me to be safe in my journey. When the boys began leaving for school, she cried and cried, insisting they would return having forgotten her and no longer wishing to allow her to participate in their larks. She fears being left behind.”
George tried to reason out how that particular worry applied to their current predicament. “But I am offering precisely the opposite. I am asking her, pleading for her to make her future with me. She would not be left behind.”
“She would be if your marriage means you treat her differently than you once had, that you resent her or dismiss her.”
How could she possibly believe his adoration of her would change rather than grow? “I could never resent or dismiss her. I love her.”
“Yes, but does she know that?”
“No, I do not believe she does.”
Mr. Downy pointed a stubby finger at George’s chest. “Then how can she think any differently? A wife who is chosen for any reason other than love can never feel fully valued in her marriage. For that reason I dreaded my task this Season.”
“Would you have chosen one of the others if I hadn’t approached you?”
Mr. Downy took a deep, tense breath. “Only if I could have felt confident they would have, at the very least, not mistreated her. I hope, George, that you do intend to be careful with your income and assets. It is a terrible thing for a father to see his daughter’s future hang so precariously in the balance. ”
A wife who is chosen for any reason other than love. . . “Ought I to tell Caroline of my feelings for her?” He hadn’t out of fear of rejection, but he was being rejected as it was.
“I would advise against it at this point. She will likely suspect any such declaration was an attempt to convince her not to break off your engagement.”
“Surely she would not believe I would lie to her.”
They had nearly reached the garden gate. “I am only suggesting, son, that your actions will speak far louder than your words. Show her your feelings and then the words you speak will have meaning.”
“How can I show her if she never comes out of her bedchamber?”
Mr. Downy grinned. “You are in luck. She is coming this way.”
Indeed, she was. And, though nothing in her posture spoke of true pleasure, she was wearing his shawl, which he chose to view as a good omen.
“Allow her to see the sincerity of your feelings, George. That will give her the confidence to move forward.”
“I will do my best.”
She was there beside them only a moment later. “Welcome home, Father. We have missed you.”
Caroline kissed her father’s cheek. He patted her hand. “I have not yet greeted your mother. I will leave you with George. Be certain to set the dogs on him again if he misbehaves.”
Color touched her face on the instant. “I was nine years old when I did that, Father.”
“And,” George quickly added, “I deserved it.”
“You were teasing me rather mercilessly, and my kitten was unwilling to attack.” Caroline, thank the heavens, sounded more like herself in that moment than she had in the past twenty-four hours. Perhaps all hope was not lost.
“Would it improve your opinion of my eleven-year-old self if I told you that calling you Cry-o-line was Tom’s idea?”
He detected a smile beneath her continued discomfort. “I fully believe Tom was the instigator. But you fell in full step with his devious scheme, so you are just as much to blame.”
George sighed dramatically. “He was a terrible influence.”
“Perhaps that is why you spent more and more time with me as the years passed.”
“That was not at all the reason.”
Her continued light expression entirely dismissed the possibility that his “reasons” had been quite personal. She knew so little of his feelings.
He slipped his hand around hers, ready to pull back should she make the least objection.
Much to his relief, she intertwined their fingers and, without the slightest protest, walked at his side as he undertook another circuit of the garden.
Mr. Downy had slipped away at some point, leaving them to the quiet solitude of trees and flowers and gravel pathways.
“Thank you for this shawl,” she said as they walked. “It is the most beautiful thing I have ever owned.”
“I am pleased to hear that you like it. You wear a great deal of blue, so I felt safe in assuming that it is a favorite color of yours.”
She watched him with blatant curiosity. “I do favor blue, just as I prefer white roses. How is it you remember so much about the trivial aspects of my life?”
“I would wager there is very little about our time together that I do not recall. You were, without question, the very best part of the last twelve years of my life.”
Her smile blossomed once more. “You can hardly count the first two years. We merely endured each other then.”
Perhaps that had been true for her, but he had been top-over-tail in love with her even in those earliest years. “I have not spent any significant amount of time here this past year or more. Tell me, do you still ride in the mornings?”