favorite novel. I was merely insane.
I tilted my head up and flashed a sparkling smile at Wickham. “I am sorry. My mind did wander for a bit. I was just enjoying this lovely sunshine. It is quite beautiful today, is it not?”
“I do feel as though I am in the presence of great beauty today, though I confess I have not been paying attention to the sunshine.”
I tried not to throw up. “Mr. Wickham, I am sorry to say I do not quite take your meaning.” ‘ Cause you were so subtle , I thought derisively as I tried once again for a slight eyelash flutter, like a sledgehammer.
We had reached a sort of walkway that ran right along the shoreline. The sea breeze was lovely and cool and it played with Wickham’s tousled curls in a very appealing way. I wondered if he’d brought us down to the beach for just that very reason, so that he would appear young and carefree and edible. That would make him a hell of a set director, but I suppose all good actors secretly want to direct. I watched him turn slightly into the breeze and I realized that it was all staging. This was going to be it! I just knew this was going to be the moment.
I almost panicked and ran. Then I almost ruined the whole thing by laughing in his face as he looked down at me and proclaimed in a serious voice that he found himself to be quite in love with me and would I do him the great honor of becoming his wife.
“Uh,” I swallowed. I was supposed to say yes. I just was having a hard time forming the words. This was my first proposal. And instead of coming from a man I loved and wanted to marry (and being directed actually at me ), it was coming from a dirty, rotten, loser who only wanted money and revenge. I had compared my exes to Wickham and here I was with actual Wickham proposing to me.
It’s okay, Kelsey, it’s not really happening. Just say it.
“I am so flattered, I—” I cast my eyes downward. “Of course I shall marry you.” I looked up through my lashes in time to see the exultant look cross his face before he rearranged his features back into something more appropriate for a happy lover. “How excited my brother will be when we tell him.”
A muscle in Wickham’s jaw ticked almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Darcy shall surely be happy that his childhood friend and his sister are making such a happy match of it. Just think of all the good times we shall have at Pemberley together, my dear.”
“Oh, I cannot wait to tell him!” I gushed. “He will want us to be married at Pemberley. I have always dreamed of having a wedding there and now I shall! I daresay we should write to him immediately. Do let us turn back now so that we can write to him!” There was something perversely fun about not making this easy for him.
“What a splendid idea, my dear. Perhaps we should first share our joy with Mrs. Younge?”
“Mrs. Younge, of course, you should tell her, my…dear Wickham.”
Wickham turned us around so that we could inform Mrs. Younge of our happy news. She had managed to end up several yards behind us. As a chaperone she sucked, however as co-conspirator for Wickham she was truly brilliant. She expressed her joy and happiness for us, and how she had always known this was just how it should be. That from the start she could tell we had been made for each other.
I’m sure at some point any decent person would have expressed concern over Georgiana’s rather young age, the comparative age gap (I’m pretty sure it had to be about nine years, which at say, twenty and twenty-nine isn’t too much of a big deal, but at fifteen and twenty-four it is kind of a different matter. In my day and age a prosecutable matter), and the fact that Wickham had most definitely not applied to her brother and her cousin who were co-guardians of Georgiana since the death of her parents, for her hand. But these were all apparently trifling matters that did not merit discussion.
As we headed back to the townhouse, Wickham played the devoted lover to
I tilted my head up and flashed a sparkling smile at Wickham. “I am sorry. My mind did wander for a bit. I was just enjoying this lovely sunshine. It is quite beautiful today, is it not?”
“I do feel as though I am in the presence of great beauty today, though I confess I have not been paying attention to the sunshine.”
I tried not to throw up. “Mr. Wickham, I am sorry to say I do not quite take your meaning.” ‘ Cause you were so subtle , I thought derisively as I tried once again for a slight eyelash flutter, like a sledgehammer.
We had reached a sort of walkway that ran right along the shoreline. The sea breeze was lovely and cool and it played with Wickham’s tousled curls in a very appealing way. I wondered if he’d brought us down to the beach for just that very reason, so that he would appear young and carefree and edible. That would make him a hell of a set director, but I suppose all good actors secretly want to direct. I watched him turn slightly into the breeze and I realized that it was all staging. This was going to be it! I just knew this was going to be the moment.
I almost panicked and ran. Then I almost ruined the whole thing by laughing in his face as he looked down at me and proclaimed in a serious voice that he found himself to be quite in love with me and would I do him the great honor of becoming his wife.
“Uh,” I swallowed. I was supposed to say yes. I just was having a hard time forming the words. This was my first proposal. And instead of coming from a man I loved and wanted to marry (and being directed actually at me ), it was coming from a dirty, rotten, loser who only wanted money and revenge. I had compared my exes to Wickham and here I was with actual Wickham proposing to me.
It’s okay, Kelsey, it’s not really happening. Just say it.
“I am so flattered, I—” I cast my eyes downward. “Of course I shall marry you.” I looked up through my lashes in time to see the exultant look cross his face before he rearranged his features back into something more appropriate for a happy lover. “How excited my brother will be when we tell him.”
A muscle in Wickham’s jaw ticked almost imperceptibly. “Yes, Darcy shall surely be happy that his childhood friend and his sister are making such a happy match of it. Just think of all the good times we shall have at Pemberley together, my dear.”
“Oh, I cannot wait to tell him!” I gushed. “He will want us to be married at Pemberley. I have always dreamed of having a wedding there and now I shall! I daresay we should write to him immediately. Do let us turn back now so that we can write to him!” There was something perversely fun about not making this easy for him.
“What a splendid idea, my dear. Perhaps we should first share our joy with Mrs. Younge?”
“Mrs. Younge, of course, you should tell her, my…dear Wickham.”
Wickham turned us around so that we could inform Mrs. Younge of our happy news. She had managed to end up several yards behind us. As a chaperone she sucked, however as co-conspirator for Wickham she was truly brilliant. She expressed her joy and happiness for us, and how she had always known this was just how it should be. That from the start she could tell we had been made for each other.
I’m sure at some point any decent person would have expressed concern over Georgiana’s rather young age, the comparative age gap (I’m pretty sure it had to be about nine years, which at say, twenty and twenty-nine isn’t too much of a big deal, but at fifteen and twenty-four it is kind of a different matter. In my day and age a prosecutable matter), and the fact that Wickham had most definitely not applied to her brother and her cousin who were co-guardians of Georgiana since the death of her parents, for her hand. But these were all apparently trifling matters that did not merit discussion.
As we headed back to the townhouse, Wickham played the devoted lover to
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