by Fanny Finch
Even if she knew in her heart that Edward would not be as happy for her as he would have been if she had married Captain Trentworth.
But that was only Edward’s brotherly concern for her coming out. He wanted her to be happy and he had seen that the captain had made her happy. If she could convince him that Mr. Tomlinson made her just as happy—even if it was a bit of an exaggeration—then all would be well.
So she left the letter writing aside for the time being.
After dinner she went straight to bed, trying to rest herself up. And if she cried into her pillow again, just a little, nobody had to know about that.
Now it was the next day, and she knew what was coming.
She stayed home with Mrs. Weston while Julia went out on morning calls. Georgiana could have joined her. But she knew that Mr. Tomlinson would try to call and she saw no reason to delay the inevitable.
Besides, she was not quite up to going out and seeing everyone and being quite that sociable.
Miss Everett stopped by. “Miss Weston called upon me but not you,” she said. “She said that you were not feeling quite well enough to go walking around town. So I thought that I might stop by and see you instead.”
“You are very kind,” Georgiana told her as she rang for tea. “You were a delight at dinner last night. I am sorry that I could not be a bit livelier.”
“Well, if you are feeling a bit under the weather, that completely explains it,” Miss Everett replied. “And here I thought that it was mere distress over the captain leaving.”
Georgiana nearly started in her seat but caught herself in time. “What do you mean?” she asked. “If anyone had reason to feel distress at his departure it was you. I saw how you two were interacting and it appeared to be quite lively. Your wits were well matched.”
“Yes, I thought so,” Miss Everett replied. “But then I realized that he had eyes only for you.”
Georgiana could feel her heart thumping wildly. “I’m sure that you must be mistaken.”
“Oh, no, not at all,” Miss Everett replied. “I admit, it was unfortunate. I think that we should have made an excellent pair. But he was always following you around the room. Surely you noticed?”
“I’m afraid that I did not.”
It felt as though someone had slipped a dagger between her ribs. Captain Trentworth had been watching her? His gaze following her around the room? So much so that another woman had not only noticed but decided that she had no hope of winning him for herself?
Georgiana wanted to scream with frustration. She had nearly had it all. She had nearly had it and then she had lost it.
But she was not even sure that it was her fault that she had lost it. Was it not his as well? If he truly gazed upon her like that and loved her with such obvious tenderness, then why did he not feel she was worth fighting for?
If he thought that her brother would not approve of the match, then why not make the same argument that he had made all those years ago?
The only answer was that at some point along the way, the captain had decided that Georgiana was not worth fighting for. That whatever she felt for him or even whatever he felt for her was not enough.
It was beyond frustrating. It made her want to behave like Julia, to scream and rant. But there was nothing that she could do to change someone’s mind if that someone did not want their mind changed. She could not control anybody.
There was nothing for it but to move on.
“I think that perhaps you were mistaken,” she told Miss Everett. “I can assure you that there is no love lost between the captain and myself.”
Miss Everett looked doubtful. “We talked much of principle and determination when we were dancing together,” she said. “I would have thought that he was the sort of man who went after what he wanted.
“I know what it is that I saw. But if he was not possessed of the courage to pursue you and make it known to you, then he does not deserve you.”
Georgiana was pleasantly taken aback by the younger lady’s assertion. Of course, younger people were always so certain in their convictions. But it was pleasant, nonetheless.
“I am flattered by your assessment,” she told Miss Everett. “Now, you were mentioning something about a letter from your cousin?”
The subject effectively changed, Miss Everett talked at length about the mistakes and dramatics and woes of her cousins.
It was certainly a distraction, and by the time that she left, Georgiana was feeling as though she might even be able to properly handle Mr. Tomlinson when he inevitably arrived.
Mr. Tomlinson was a nice enough man. He could handle his income. He came from a good family. There were certainly worse situations in which she could find herself. Worse men she could marry.
And then, just as Miss Everett was about to step out the door, she said,
“Mark my words, I think that the captain shall be returning. When he does, you better get a proper explanation out of him before you let him go a step further.”
Georgiana did not understand why everyone was so certain that Captain Trentworth would be back or that he was so head over teakettle for her. But she simply smiled, and thanked Miss Everett, and closed the door.
Now. Hopefully that would be the absolute last she heard of Captain Trentworth.
It was only a short while later that Mr. Tomlinson called. Georgiana asked for him to be shown in and rang for some more tea. She also got some biscuits for Mrs. Weston, who had long ago fallen asleep in her chair and needed to be woken up.
“Mr. Tomlinson.” Georgiana stood, curtsying, and he bowed. “Please, do have a seat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“Merely that I enjoy your company and am always eager to have more of it,” he replied. “Tell me, what book is that by your elbow?”
She told him about the poetry she had been reading to Mrs. Weston. Mr. Tomlinson was not well acquainted with it, and she answered some of his questions on it.
It quickly became apparent, however, that he was not truly interested in the poetry. He was truly making an effort on her behalf and for that she could thank him.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in her chest when Mr. Tomlinson, clearly relieved, changed the subject to fashion.
Georgiana followed fashion, of course. How could she not? But she was not an enthusiast for it the way that Julia was. The most that she had ever paid attention to fashion was when she was teaching Maria about it.
She would have much rather had someone with whom she could discuss books and poetry. It saddened her to remember, and she could not help but dwell on, the fact that she and Captain Trentworth had been so enthusiastic together about those subjects.
Of course, she reminded herself, as Mr. Tomlinson’s wife, or as any man’s wife, she would not be with him constantly. He would have his business. She would have calls to make and the household to run.
Even when they both went to balls and dinners they would not be together constantly throughout. They could not necessarily sit together, for example. That would depend upon their hostess. And the aim of being at parties and dinners was to get to converse with people that one did not usually. So why would one sit with one’s spouse, whom one saw all the time?
It wasn’t the end of the world if her interests did not precisely match up with Mr. Tomlinson’s. He was trying, that was more than she could say for most men.
He stopped to listen when she spoke. He asked her opinion on things. He found witty ways to compliment her. He dominated the conversation a little more than she would have liked but it was clear that he did not realize that he was.
He was not her ideal man. But he was a good man and he was making a true effort. For that she ought to be grateful.
After their visit concluded and she showed him out, Georgiana returned to find Mrs. Weston looking at her with gleaming eyes.
“Whatever you are going to say,” she told the older woman, sitting down again, “you had better say it.”
&
nbsp; “He is a nice enough man,” Mrs. Weston said. “A gifted charmer. He was consistently finding ways to compliment you on your eyes.”
“I noticed.”
“They are very fine eyes, in his defense. You are far from plain in your features.”
“Thank you. However, you cannot blame me for sensing that there is something else that you are thinking on.”
“I cannot help but notice that he does not stir in you any sign of mirth.”
“You know that I am not one inclined towards laughter.”
“Ah, but the captain could get you to laugh.”
“Let us not talk about the captain any longer.”
“Surely you should wait for a man who can make you laugh? One who shares your interests?”
“If I were still eighteen then perhaps I could. But I am six and twenty. I cannot afford to wait. Not any longer.”
Mrs. Weston peered at her for a moment, then nodded. “You blame yourself for your lack of marriage thus far, do you not, my dear?”
Georgiana felt her stomach twist and she looked up at Mrs. Weston, startled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you feel it is your continued feelings for the captain that prevented you from being courted by any other men,” Mrs. Weston said. “If only, you tell yourself. If only you had moved on from him, you could have been emotionally available to those other men and they would have courted you.
“But I think you forget, my dear, that marriage is not all about emotion for men. Of course they want a wife who is devoted to them. Just as we want a husband who is devoted to us.
“However, men must marry as well as women. They must have an heir to continue on the estate and the family line. There is pressure with them as well.
“Had any of them really wanted to, they would have courted you anyway. They would have seen your lack of true affection as a challenge. You know how men like a challenge. They like to feel powerful.
“To know that they changed your mind and convinced you to love them would have, I think, been a triumph to them. Who knows why they chose not to pursue you? But you mustn’t blame yourself. You will not gain anything by it.”
Georgiana nodded. “Perhaps that is true. But whether it is my fault or not, one cannot deny the march of time. I have to wed. Or else I have to begin making preparations to spend the rest of my life as a spinster. You understand how it works.”
“I understand,” Mrs. Weston replied. “That does not mean that I have to like it. And you know that you will always be invited into our home and to our social gatherings. Whether you are married or not.”
“Thank you.” Georgiana sighed. “Well. I suppose that I ought to arrange for Mr. Tomlinson to sit next to me at tonight’s dinner.”
Mrs. Weston pursed her lips together. “You do whatever you think is best, Georgiana.”
Over the next couple of weeks, Georgiana allowed Mr. Tomlinson to court her.
She did not think that anyone who did not know her as well as, say, Julia did, would be able to see that she felt no real passion for the courtship.
Georgiana knew that she was a quiet person by nature. A little withdrawn. Not prone to showing great emotion, generally. It did not surprise her that Mr. Tomlinson and everyone else seemed blissfully unaware of how little passion he stirred in her.
But passion did not matter now. What mattered was that he was a kind person who was interested in taking care of her. She would no longer be a burden to her brother.
Was that not all that she was allowed to ask for?
Mr. Tomlinson accompanied herself, the Westons, Miss Perry, Miss Everett and Mr. Norwich on a trip to the seaside and on a picnic weekend.
Georgiana could tell that Julia was doing it for her benefit. Trying to help Georgiana get the proper courtship that she deserved. And putting them in various situations so that Georgiana might see every side of Mr. Tomlinson’s character.
She appreciated her friend’s thoughtfulness. She knew that Julia was as unsure about Mr. Tomlinson as Georgiana was. Part of Julia, Georgiana thought, still rooted for Captain Trentworth. As angry at him as Julia might be.
But Julia said nothing one way or another. And neither did Mrs. Weston.
It was appreciated. Georgiana had received enough of people’s opinions on her love life for one lifetime, thank you.
Mr. Tomlinson continued to be charming in every aspect. He seemed to always have the right words to suit the occasion, whatever that occasion might be.
Georgiana could see why he had been aiming to become a lawyer or a clergyman before his uncle had gifted him with inheritance. Mr. Tomlinson had a way with words that would have served him well either in the pulpit or in the courtroom.
She did her best to appreciate his attentions. She could not bring herself to force laughter out when she did not feel it. But she smiled and listened and thanked him when he complimented her—which was a lot.
Honestly, sometimes she felt as though he complimented her a little too much.
It made her wonder, sometimes. Not that she thought he was going to turn into a monster upon their marrying. But someone who was always so complimentary like that. It did worry her a little that he might be putting on a bit of a front for her.
On the other hand, even if he wasn’t putting on a front, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to be constantly complimented. It made her feel less like a wife than a pet cat that needed daily stroking or treat feeding.
She wanted someone who respected her and would debate with her. She wanted someone who treated her as a partner. The way that Edward and Maria treated one another.
Oh, of course, Edward was devoted to Maria and gazed at her like she was the brightest star in the night sky. And he was protective of her, true.
But he didn’t treat her like a child or as though she was nothing more than a pretty face. He loved Maria’s wide knowledge of books and supported her hobby of art. It was Maria’s intelligence and willingness to discuss such subjects that had helped to draw Edward to her.
There were, however, far worse ways to be treated by a husband. Complimenting one’s wife too much was hardly the greatest sin that a man could commit in a marriage.
She did not get to be picky. And perhaps, when they were married, she could help to influence him. Let him know in gentle ways how she did and did not wish to be treated.
If life gave you lemons, she reminded herself, then you used them to make lemonade.
This was far from being handed lemons, but the point still stood. She would find a way to look at everything optimistically and change any little quirks for the better.
Georgiana could tell that the rest of society in Bath thought a proposal was forthcoming. Mr. Tomlinson made sure to dance with her twice at every ball that she went to.
He attentively asked if he could refill her drink when it drew near to empty. He generally stood by her while she conversed during the balls—unless he was dancing with another woman. He did have a societal obligation to dance with as many ladies as he could during a ball, after all.
Miss Perry was forever making remarks about it. Remarks that the poor girl plainly thought were subtle but everyone else knew were about as subtle as a bag of flour dropped on one’s head.
Miss Everett didn’t say anything on the matter, the same as Julia. She probably had plenty of thoughts about it. Georgiana could not imagine that a woman of her wit did not. But she kept her thoughts to herself. And for that, Georgiana was grateful.
Mr. Norwich did not make any remarks to everyone the way that Miss Perry did. However, one night as he was bidding Georgiana farewell, he told her,
“I would not resign yourself to a loveless marriage of convenience quite yet, Miss Reginald.”
Georgiana had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Mr. Norwich merely bowed and left for the evening. While she stood there, bewildered and at a loss.
Mr. Tomlinson could hardly have been unaware of everyone’s speculation, but he took it in stride. He seemed plea
sed that people were talking about his courtship.
Georgiana hoped that he did not mind some of the things that she was overhearing. Comments such as,
“Did you know that Miss Reginald is possibly getting married at last? I thought it should never happen.”
And,
“Well, I wish him the best of luck with her. You know there must be a reason that no other man has wanted her all this time.”
And,
“I think he will come to regret it. Quiet thing like her? And so mature? He’s just so lively. I can’t imagine they’ll be happy.”