An Unlikely Proposal

“Look, whatever you think you saw,” Lord Reuben Edstatson says as we step close to each other.

“I know what I saw, Lord Edstatson” I whisper back as we join our left hands loosely and circle each other. “I saw you and Mr. Woodrey in the drawing room off the hall…” I pause as the dance takes us further away from each other and I spin with the lady next to me. I can remember very clearly the moment I opened the door to what I thought would be an empty room, wanting a break from the crowd in the ballroom, to find it already occupied by two respectable young men. At least, I thought them respectable, though they might not be considered as such if anyone knew what they had been doing.

We come back together and he takes my right hand in his left. We take a few hopping steps forward. “Must we speak of this now, Miss Hadnall?” he asks, as we take the same few hopping steps back, then repeat.

“I think so.” I step around to face him and we join our other hands. “You cannot run away from the conversation this way.” We twirl together to the right, our steps in time with the upbeat music.

“Perhaps I simply have nothing to say on the topic,” he says, and we switch to spin in the other direction. “So long as you do not plan to tell anyone, that is.”

I don’t frown at him — someone might notice — but it is a near thing. “And perhaps I am not satisfied with that,” I say, as we move close before coming apart again, letting go of each other completely.

We step forward in the same direction, over a foot of distance between us, and I join hands to circle with the gentleman of the pair next to us while he circles with the lady. We return to each other to circle once, then circle with the other couple again. When we come back together the second time, I ask, “What is Mr. Woodrey to you, exactly?”

We each take two steps to the right, then two to the left, so that we end up, each time, as far away from each other as our joined hands will allow, which is still close enough to speak quietly. “We are… good friends,” he says. We continue to move from side to side.

“Was that the first time, then?”

His jaw tics, but he doesn’t say anything before the dance brings us apart again. I join with a circle of three other ladies, our left hands resting atop one another in the middle as we circle together, our partners circling around us in the opposite direction. After two full rotations, Lord Edsatson takes one of my hands again, and we transition back into our spot with a few hopping steps. “No,” he says, right before he twirls me, and it takes me a moment to realize that he is answering my question from before. It was not the first time. But if it was not the first — the only — time, then what does that mean? What could it possibly mean?

“Why?” I ask, as he switches his right hand into my right and takes my left hand in his, so that our arms are crossed over each other in front of us. We begin to walk in a large circle.

“That is none of your concern,” he says. I suppose that is true. I simply cannot understand what would have led two respectable young men from good families, one a lord and the other the younger brother of one, to participate in such ignoble activities as I caught them engaging in when I entered the drawing room.

I do not agree to his statement, but I do him the grace of not pursuing the line of questioning further. “What of your future wife, then?” I inquire. Lord Edstatson is one of the most sought-after potential husbands of the season. My mother has been pushing me to try to gain his attention, in fact — she will be delighted about us sharing this dance, and will likely not stop talking about it for days, though I am sure he only agreed to it to have the chance to ask me to keep quiet. Even with his title and prestige, his prospects would be greatly diminished if word spread about his actions behind closed doors.

“When I take a wife…” he bites out, not sounding even the slightest bit happy with the prospect. We complete our circle and he switches our hands again so they are no longer crossed, bringing me in front of him. He steps forward as I step backward, and we begin to circle another pair as they circle us. “My wife will provide me with an heir, and be provided finances and freedom in return. My private affairs will not concern her.”

“You desire a marriage of convenience, then?”

He only replies with a quick, “I do,” as we each take one step back, releasing our hands. I curtsy and he bows, and the dance is over. I have more which I wish to say, to ask, but I know that now is not a good time. It would not do to chase after my dance partner as he retreats, after all.

I step off the dance floor to take a break against the wall as the pairs for the next dance line up on the dancefloor. Across the room, I see Lord Edstatson move to stand next to Mr. Leopold Woodrey. They are known to be good friends, and there is nothing unusual about gentlemen passing time together between dances at these events, but I cannot help but observe their every gesture in light of what I have discovered about them. I wonder how long they have been… doing such things, and without even a hint of a rumor. I would know, because Mother always keeps up on all of the society gossip, and there is no way she would have missed a rumor like this. She would have told me, and would not have pushed me to get Lord Edstatson’s attention if such things were even suspected. Though, thinking of my Mother and plans for me gives me an idea of my own. A way to perhaps be satisfied with the outcome of this season, considering this newfound information.

I wait until a few dances have passed and I have danced with a few other potential suitors before I make my way over to the refreshment table, where Lord Edstatson and Mr. Woodrey happen to be standing. “Good evening,” I murmur, curtsying shallowly to both of them. They both return the greeting, though Mr. Woodrey is watching me wearily. “Do not worry, Mr. Woodrey, I will keep your secret. Though I do have an… idea, I would like you to consider.”

“So, you are blackmailing us?” Mr. Woodrey asks sharply, though quietly.

I shake my head. “No, of course not. My silence is not contingent on your acceptance. My request is this: Lord Edstatson will court me, and after a reasonable amount of time has passed, he will propose to me, and we will marry.”

Both men frown at me, though Mr. Woodrey’s is deeper. “I have no interest in having any kind of… romantic attachments to my spouse. I believe I explained that to you,” Lord Edstatson says slowly.

“Nor do I. I wish from marriage what you described for your future wife: financial stability and freedom. And the status that comes with your position, of course. I do not want a husband who will expect me to be devoted to him, or who will desire to know my whereabouts and pastimes every minute of the day. And besides, I already know your secret, so you will not need to attempt to hide it from me. And if we are wed, you will never need to worry about me spreading rumors about you, for it would affect me as well. So, what do you say?”

Lord Edstatson looks at Mr. Woodrey, and they seem to hold a whole conversation in a matter of seconds, without ever speaking a single word. Eventually, Mr. Woodrey gives a subtle nod. Lord Edstatson turns back to meet my eye. “Very well, Miss Adelaide Hadnall. I shall call upon you in the morning.”

I nod, then take a pastry and walk away, unable to keep a small smile off my face. It would be a joy to marry a man whose interests I know lie elsewhere.