At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)(18)
“Mr. Wanamaker, from what I’ve observed of him so far, is a gentleman,” Miss Griswold countered. “Because of that, you have no option but to take him up on his offer, or else he’ll be forever plagued with feelings of guilt and . . . he will most certainly sink into a deep and life-altering melancholy.”
“Edgar has never been prone to melancholy.”
Miss Griswold pursed her lips. “He’ll more than likely become prone to it if you don’t accept his offer, especially after Mrs. Travers makes certain your reputation is destroyed. That will then see you out of your job as a social secretary, and the next thing you know, you’ll be seen wandering through the city in rags, holding out your hand for a scrap of bread from anyone who passes you by.”
Wilhelmina tilted her head. “Have you ever considered dabbling a bit with writing? I daresay you’d do well penning a gothic novel, what with the knack you seem to have for imagery.”
Waving that observation aside, Miss Griswold plowed on with her argument as if Wilhelmina hadn’t just voiced a brilliant suggestion. “Truth be told, I’m not exactly certain why you’re dithering about accepting Mr. Wanamaker’s proposal of marriage—especially since I’m convinced you truly care about the gentleman.” She gave a rather knowing nod of her head. “You probably have never realized this, but when you speak of the man, your voice takes on a distinctly sappy tone.”
Opening her mouth to dismiss that idea, Wilhelmina suddenly pressed her lips together when the thought struck that there just might be a grain of truth to Miss Griswold’s observation.
“I fear you may be right about that, Miss Griswold,” she finally admitted. “And truth be told, I have recently come to the conclusion that I care about Edgar far more than I’d realized. Having said that, I’m simply not comfortable with the marriage idea, given that he made his offer under what can only be described as extenuating circumstances.”
“Wasn’t it his idea to go to the conservatory in the first place?”
“Well, yes, but considering nothing untoward happened between us, I’m not comfortable holding him responsible for us being found out, nor am I comfortable holding him to his offer of marriage, especially after I rejected him all those years ago.”
The sting of tears caught her by surprise. Turning her head, she brushed them away, but when she returned her attention to Miss Griswold, she found that lady considering her with far too much understanding resting in her unusual eyes.
Clearing her throat, Wilhelmina summoned up a smile. “The good news about that long ago rejection, though, at least according to Edgar, is that he claims it helped turn him into a man—a role he fills rather nicely.”
“He does indeed,” Miss Griswold agreed.
Wilhelmina’s smile widened. “Do you know that one of the reasons I turned down his proposal all those years ago was because I didn’t think he was measuring up very well against the older gentlemen who were seeking my favor?”
Her smile faded straightaway as the truth of what she’d actually done that night settled into her very soul. “I was so foolish, you see, having my head turned by those other gentlemen, all of whom were certainly more sophisticated than Edgar, but none of whom, in hindsight, were prepared to give me what I truly needed—affection of the most genuine sort, something Edgar had always made available to me from the time we were mere children.”
Miss Griswold immediately took to clucking. “From what you told me last night, you, my dear Miss Radcliff, were all of seventeen years old. Most young ladies are complete idiots at that age and make ridiculous choices on a frequent basis.”
“Did you make ridiculous choices when you were seventeen?”
Miss Griswold tilted her head and adjusted the reins on her lap. “None that I can think of. But . . . I’ve always been a somewhat unusual sort, a circumstance that practically guaranteed my admittance into the wallflower set instead of the fashionable one when my father and I moved to New York.”
“My tumble down the society ladder and into the wallflower set is yet another reason why I’m uncomfortable marrying Edgar. I’m afraid he’ll eventually come to the conclusion that I only accepted his offer in order to escape the difficulties of my life.”
“I don’t think you’re giving the gentleman enough credit. If you ask me, I think he returned to the city in order to discern whether or not you still held any affection for him—because he obviously still holds a great deal of affection for you.” She gave a short bob of her head. “I could see it in his eyes last night whenever he looked at you. He adores you.”
“Which is an encouraging idea. Although . . .” Looking up, the rest of Wilhelmina’s words died on her tongue when she took note of a delivery wagon sliding its way through the street. Unfortunately, that wagon seemed to be sliding in their direction, a circumstance Miss Griswold had yet to notice. “I don’t mean to be an alarmist, Miss Griswold, but it might be a sensible choice to retake the reins at this particular moment. If we don’t remove ourselves from that wagon’s path, I’m fairly certain it is soon to crash into us, leaving your sleigh—along with us, I must add—a mess of tangled parts.”
Miss Griswold glanced at the wagon in question, and then returned her attention to Wilhelmina. “Mr. Merriweather doesn’t need me to hold on to the reins. He’s very good at getting us around the city on his own, as well as dodging any and all obstacles that might appear in our way.”