“something” he wanted to pursue? He’d spent so much time on the battlefront and in diplomacy that his personal skills skewed toward the negative.
Georgiana recovered well enough to dip a quick curtsy. “I pray you see no more battles, Edward. I worry so when you’re away.” Her demeanor remained cautious, and Edward noted mystification on her pretty countenance.
“Perhaps we should join the others,” he said softly while offering his arm.
Georgiana glanced away. “As you wish, Colonel.” She placed her hand lightly on his. “I suppose our guests must wonder at my defection. It would disappoint Fitzwilliam to know of my selfishness.”
“Neither your brother nor I would criticize your need for privacy. It must be a family trait. Often I wish for the ability to send everyone else away.”
Georgiana paused before exiting through the now-open door. “Does that include me, Edward? Would you have me elsewhere?”
“Never in this lifetime, Sweetheart.”
“Oh, please beware, Miss Catherine.” Winkler rushed forward to steady the ladder on which she stood. “Why are you hanging that ornament? Shouldn’t a footman be doing so?” Winkler reached for her as Kitty backed down the ladder’s rungs.
“I sent Thomas to find additional ribbon. This string keeps breaking,” she said in frustration. Actually touching her leg and hip through her gown, Winkler braced her steps, and Kitty warmed beneath his touch. She hadn’t considered the ramifications of climbing on the ladder when the string around the mistletoe ball had broken, leaving the seasonal ornament to hang precariously over the room’s center. At Longbourn, she and her sisters had often scaled the ladder to the attic and the one to the hayloft.
“Allow me to assist your descent,” Winkler pleaded; real concern laced his voice. His hands came about Kitty’s waist, and he lifted her from the ladder. Gently, Winkler placed her on the floor before him.
Turning quickly to face him, Kitty leaned into Winkler. “My,” she cooed,“I’d not realized the dangers of such a simple task. Thank you for protecting me, Sir.” She noted that the rapid increase of her own breathing had matched his.
“I’d have nothing cause you harm, Miss Catherine. You must know that,” Winkler said huskily.
Kitty smiled brightly. “You wish to protect me, Mr. Winkler?”
“With my life.” Obviously embarrassed, he stepped back, placing distance between them. Yet, he immediately captured Kitty’s hand. “I would pay my addresses to you, Miss Catherine, if you’ll accept them.”
Although her heart pounded out a loud staccato, Kitty coolly asked, “You mean to court me, Sir?”
Winkler quickly released Kitty’s hand. “It would be my wish. Unless, of course, you find my suit repugnant.”
Kitty laughed lightly. One of the few things her younger sister Lydia had shared regarding men was the male’s lack of self-confidence. “Never,” she said and turned to the ladder.
Behind her, she heard Winkler’s frustrated sigh. “Please, Miss Catherine,” he said uneasily. “Dispel my misery. Never what? I cannot bear the idea that you’d never love me.”
Nearly knocking over the ladder, Kitty spun around in haste. “Love?” she gasped. “You wish me to love you?”
“A marriage based on anything less than love does not interest me. I might tolerate one based on strong affection; but my parents loved each other dearly, and I wish a similar joining.”
Kitty thought immediately of her own parents, and she could not form a very pleasing picture of conjugal felicity or domestic comfort. Her mother had, obviously, offered an attraction for her father, but that early affection had gone by the wayside. She knew of no couple’s marriage — at least, one of any duration — that maintained that early rush of happiness. Maria Lucas’s parents were quite staid. Rumors existed of Sir William Lucas’s trips to London. Her Uncle Philips barely tolerated her aunt. But, possibly, Aunt Gardiner had found happiness. Lizzy and Mr. Darcy easily exchanged affection’s soft smile, as did Jane and Mr. Bingley, but would their marriages remain so blissful?
As her sister Elizabeth had recently pointed out, their father’s behavior as a husband bordered on impropriety. Kitty had reluctantly agreed. She had always seen it with pain; but, respecting her father’s abilities, and grateful for his affectionate treatment of herself, Kitty had endeavored to forget what she could no longer overlook and to banish from her thoughts that continual breach of conjugal obligation of decorum, which, in exposing his wife to the contempt of her own children, was so highly reprehensible.
“I’m afraid, Mr. Winkler,” she managed, “that until Jane joined with Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth with Mr. Darcy, I possessed no marriage models based on love.” Kitty made her decision quickly and reached for his hand. “I’m not sure what to do to make you love me, Sir, but I’ll strive to make it so.”
Winkler cupped her cheek in his large palm. “You need do nothing special. Just be Catherine.You already hold sway over my affections.”
Kitty breathed easier: She’d said the correct thing. “If we’re to spend time together, Mr. Winkler, might you call me ‘Kitty’?”
The man’s countenance lit with happiness. “And you’ll call me ‘Thorne.’”
“A unique name,” she teased.
Winkler’s smile grew. “I’ll tell you the whole horrid story some day. It’ll be part of our courtship.”
“I’ve no such tales,” she asserted.
“We’ll see about that.” Winkler kissed her knuckles. “I’m very adept at discovering others’ confidences. Something about the profession makes people free with their confessions.”
Kitty caressed his cheek. “You’ll be sadly mistaken, Sir.” She laughed lightly. “I’m not likely to share my darkest secrets.” Hearing noises in the hall, she sobered quickly. “How shall we proceed?”
“How long will your family remain at Pemberley?”
Kitty puzzled. “No one has said for certain, but as Mr. Grange has responsibilities in Meryton, I’d imagine no longer than Twelfth Night.”
“Might you remain at Pemberley when your parents depart?”
Kitty thought that her mother would gladly spare her if she knew that Mr.Winkler wished to pay his addresses. “It could be arranged.”
“I’d thought we should spend time together,” Winkler explained. “I have many and varied duties associated with my living. If we decide to marry, you’ll be expected to join me in my mission. I wish you to be fully aware of the responsibilities of being a clergyman’s wife before you accept my proposal.”
“Then we’ll not tell the others?”
Winkler continued, “I’ll speak to your father while he’s at Pemberley. I thought when the Darcys returned that we could let it be known that we have an understanding. I would speak to Mr. Darcy also. He’s my benefactor, and you’re Mrs. Darcy’s sister. I would want his approval.”
“You have this well thought out,” Kitty teased.
“I’ve had longer to consider it — since last summer when you were at Pemberley.” This time he kissed the inside of her wrist. “I’ve thought of little else for months.”
Surprise rested on Kitty’s lips. “Truly?”
“Truly,” he confessed. “I’d heard of your return from Mrs. Oliver when she came into the village to order extra supplies. Thankfully, the Collinses required assistance in reaching the estate. It gave me a good excuse to see you again.”
“You shouldn’t have risked your safety for the likes of Mr. Collins,” she said.
“For the pleasure of your company, I’d risk more than that,” he assured.
Hearing more people in the hallway, Kitty said, “I suppose we should finish hanging this ornament before the others catch us alone together, and all your plans go to naught.”
Winkler’s smile broadened. “Not such a terrible fate. Come, my dear. This time I’ll climb the ladder, and you’ll steady it.” He paused before he took the first step. Slowly, he leaned toward her, and Kitty thought he might kiss her, but, instead, he said, “On Christmas, we might sneak in here alone for a few minutes.” Kitty’s breath caught in her throat. “Of course, I must finagle an invitation from Mr. Darcy to join the family in order for that to
