Page 39 of A Murder, a Marquess, and Miss Mifford
Freddie, who was quite pleased by the use of the pronoun "we", nodded in agreement.
"Somewhere public would really put him on the spot," he said, thinking aloud, "It might shock a confession from him."
"That's what I was thinking," Emily sounded awed by the synchronicity of their thoughts, "Mary and Northcott are holding a ball--it would be easy enough to add Ethel and Sir Cadogan to the list of invitees. We could confront them there, together."
There it was again, the use of the word "we", that left Freddie with a feeling of pleasure in his stomach. He hid a smile, as he imagined Emily using it in other sentences.
Wewere pleased the wedding went so well.Weenjoyed our honeymoon in the Lake District.Welook forward to the birth of our first child...
"Freddie?" Emily interrupted his daydreams, glancing at him queerly, "Are you alright? You seem to have drifted off."
"Ahem," Freddie cleared his throat, importantly, "Yes, I was just thinking of the best way to go about it but leave it with me--I shall think of a plan."
He added a masculine harrumph to the end of his sentence--more for his benefit, than hers--and Emily rolled her eyes.
"Well, do remember to include me in it," she grumbled, averting her eyes.
Freddie reached out and gently turned her face toward his, so that she was looking at him fully.
"You are in all my future plans, Miss Mifford," he said, addressing her formally for what felt like a very formal declaration of his intent.
Again, she flushed, her green eyes awash with longing but also fear. Something was holding her back from admitting that she wanted him too, but Freddie could not for the life of him work out what it was.
It wasn't his looks, personality, or style--for he had already dismissed those notions as absurd--but, rather, something else...Freddie just needed to discover what that something was.
The carriage turned on to St James' Square and Emily gave a nervous glance out the window.
"I think it's best if we stop here, I shouldn't like to cause a scandal by being seen exiting your carriage," she said.
A scandal would necessitate a proposal, which would suit Freddie just fine, but he nodded in agreement--for when he proposed, he wanted her "yes" to be given freely.
"Stop," he called, rapping on the roof of the carriage.
His driver pulled in at once, and Freddie smiled apologetically at his companion.
"I'm afraid I cannot help you out," he said, "But I want you to know that the wish to do so is there."
"I would never doubt your gallantry, my lo--Freddie."
My Freddie? Things were looking up already.
Freddie reached over to open the door, and Emily slid past him, hopping elegantly down to the pavement. She paused, offered him a shy smile, then set off at a quick trot towards home.
Freddie allowed himself a moment to savour the memory of their kiss--all the more vivid for the floral scent which still lingered--before rapping on the roof of the carriage.
"White's," he called--he had a very acute need for a brandy, following the morning's high-jinx.
The club was filled with thirsty gentlemen, just released from the confines of The House of Lords. Freddie had no wish to join the boisterous fray at the bow-window, who sounded intent to continue an earlier debate, and instead made for a quiet corner. There, he ordered a brandy, and sat back to mull over Miss Mifford's confusing reluctance to admit that she liked him.
She did like him, of that Freddie was certain. No woman, especially an innocent one, could feign such passion and warmth. There was something holding her back though, and Freddie needed to work out what it was--for he could not very well drag her down the aisle, though it was a tempting thought.
"Brooding silently in the corner again--I take it you have recently encountered Miss Mifford? Lud, I ought to send her a bouquet of hot house flowers, as thanks for her service to my ears--I can't recall the last time I was forced to endure one of your lectures on matters sartorial."
Delaney, displaying his customary charm, sat down uninvited in the chair opposite Freddie, and waved down a passing footman to fetch him a drink.
"If you don't mind, I'm going to capitalise on your silence and take a moment to grumble," he continued, with a sigh, "Mostly about the female of the species."
"Had your heart broken?" Freddie asked, with a note of surprise, "I didn't think you had one."
