Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

T he evening, having begun so auspiciously, and having given its most pleasant memories early on, could only barely satisfy afterward. With just such a lover as would please any untried young woman with little experience of the world, providing she was possessed of a heart quite ready to be won over, and having heard those sentiments uttered that would be sure to move any innocent mind, the first few dances had carried her away in transports of confusion mixed with blushing delight. After her dance with Mr Ambrose, Margaret had been partnered readily by many eager young men, and had danced every dance, but the memory of that first dance still clung to her, so that all others were merely caricatures of that one, and all her partners mere shadows of the first partner.

Ambrose had not asked her to dance again, and she was bitterly disappointed. He meant, she was very sure, to ask her again—how could he not, after his words to her!—but he did not approach for some time, and when he did they were always in company with John and Fanny and nothing more in the way of conversation was able to be exchanged between them .

When the clock stuck one, the hour at which was customary for Fanny to request their carriage and coats, Margaret was to be leaving when the couples were just lining up for another dance! Could they not stay on a little longer? Fanny was tired, and Margaret gave way to her sister-in-law with regret. The way Mr Ambrose had hinted to her, the way he had looked at her—all these things told her that the strength of his regard for her must be high indeed! Surely he would speak to her again on the subject. She had not come to London to find herself a husband, but now she found herself carried away with the romantic notion of being won over, of altering all her ideas for the sake of love—and now all she needed was the opportunity to hear him a little more, and ascertain that he was not at all teasing her and was quite serious.

Presently, their carriage was brought around and after being seen into it personally by John, and without any sign of her lover, the carriage door shut on a now confused and somehow forlorn Margaret. Perhaps he did not care for her after all!

On the short drive back to Harley-street, Fanny looked most pleased with herself, rather than tired. It was not long before she addressed Margaret. ‘I do hope that you are not engaged to see your sister tomorrow morning, Margaret, for I particularly wish your company after breakfast—it is my "at home" day, and I should like you to be at home for a very particular caller. I have no doubt you understand my meaning.'

John Dashwood stirred. ‘Ah! I see! It has come to that, has it? Well, indeed!'

Did Fanny refer to Ambrose? She must! If so, then he did mean to call! Margaret, now blushing very much and yet a little confused by such a strange way of asking it, gave her affirmation that she would be at home tomorrow to receive calls. ‘But you always send the young men away,' she laughed lightly, so that Fanny would not suppose her conscious of whom it was that was to call. ‘I cannot see that I would be missing very much by going out.'

Fanny merely smiled her tight smile and remained silent. Margaret knew that she must mean to allow Mr Ambrose to call, and her heart pounded at the thought—would she truly receive the second offer she had had in her life, within a few weeks of the first? And what was to be her reply?

As the clock stuck eleven o' clock in the hallway the following day, Margaret, dressed in a new morning gown, a sheer pale green sprig muslin which showed more of her bosom than she liked, was seated in the best drawing room, as they usually did on Fanny's at home days. Fanny herself was nowhere to be seen, and had not been in her usual spot on the sofa when Margaret had entered the room with her book.

Wondering what had kept Fanny, and hoping she did not mean for Margaret to entertain Mr Ambrose alone, she sat and opened a novel, intending to read. She could not read, however, for she was listening with great intensity to the sounds outside and expected the doorbell to ring at every moment. How she wished Fanny were here to calm her nerves!

She now heard a little bustle in the hallway, and supposing it to be her sister-in-law, she looked up, but as the door opened, only the footman appeared in his white wig and blue costume, to announce a caller. ‘Mr Ambrose, Miss.'

He advanced into the room to meet her as she rose, and with great seriousness, took her hand and kissed it briefly. Margaret could not help but cast her eyes downward, since his gaze on hers was so marked. This was too soon—she was not ready! She had not yet decided upon him, she was not yet sure of her feelings! Nevertheless, she sat down again.

He sat opposite her, and after a moment said in his languid way, ‘I hope I find you well, Miss Dashwood. '

‘I am very well, thank you Mr Ambrose. I am sure Fanny will be down very shortly, if you would be so good as to wait.' If there was a tremor in her voice he did not appear to notice it.

‘It is not Mr or Mrs Dashwood I have come to see. I wished to see you alone.'

She did not have the power of reply and so she remained quiet.

‘You are not such an ingenue, I think, to have misread my meaning, which I took the trouble of making clear last night.'

Margaret hardly knew where to place her eyes. ‘You said some very kind things, Mr Ambrose, but I would not assume anything other than kindness was intended by your saying them.'

He gave her one of the half smiles he used when amused. ‘You have learned the art of prevarication astonishingly quickly, Miss Dashwood, for someone unused to the ways of London. Then I shall be plainer than I was yesterday. I wish you to be my wife. Have I your consent to announce an engagement?'

Margaret, now a little astonished to be addressed quite so plainly, hesitated a moment, in order to wait for her stomach to cease its trembling. It was as she had thought, but now that the moment was upon her, she was more nervous than she had been when Captain Edwin had proposed!

‘I am very aware of the great honour you do me, Sir, in making me an offer. I—I thank you very much indeed—you are very kind—but are you quite sure you do not mistake me for someone else? I am not of a family of wealth and can bring nothing to marriage, nor do I have any rank equal to the position you will someday hold as heir to your grandfather's estate.'

‘There is no need of any anxiety on your part, I don't care for all that,' he replied lazily, ‘I must take a wife to please my grandfather, and if I must marry, it should be someone of my own choosing. I prefer you, Miss Dashwood, over anyone else. Now, how do you answer me? '

Again she found herself unable to reply, a confusion of conflicting feelings making it impossible to think.

‘You cannot be such a fool that you had no idea of my preference, since I have made it quite clear since your arrival here,' he added. ‘I think you like me well enough?'

‘No, Sir, I am not such a fool as you think, and I—I like you very much indeed—but I had wondered if—if your attentions to me were—were for Fanny and Johns' sakes?'

‘Why would you think it? You are a great beauty Miss Dashwood, and all pleasing charm and freshness. That is enough to suffice my own requirements.'

His gaze was intent on her face, and she bowed her head in confusion. ‘I have no fortune, and no rank. I am very conscious of the honour you do me—but I cannot understand why you have settled on me when you could have anybody at all!'

‘I have asked you marry me, Miss Dashwood, even despite those things.' There was a hint of irritation in his tone. ‘Do you wish me to spout syrupy compliments, such as Lavenham or Williams-Boyce, or the rest of those puppies most certainly would? Do you require common cliches and platitudes to win you? Very well then. You are the only woman I have looked at since your arrival here—the only woman whom I believe will suit me in every way…I find myself…in love with you, Miss Dashwood. Don't you like me after all?'

‘Very much indeed, Mr Ambrose.'

‘Then will you consent to be my wife?'

She hesitated a moment then said cautiously, ‘Believe me to be most conscious of the honour you do me, especially in light of the fact that I have no fortune, nor rank, to bring to the marriage. And yet, I feel—I feel that I must consult my sisters, and Mama, before I make such a decision about my future—I have never thought of marriage, until I met you. I like you—very much, but I hardly know what it is proper to feel, when one is asked to marry! '

‘Your mother? Your sisters?' His tone was neutral, and she could not tell if he was offended. ‘Would they not sanction a match to—forgive me—but you are aware that I am considered the most eligible bachelor in town? Besides which, are your own feelings not enough to tell you what is the right thing to do? Have you not confessed that you like me "very much indeed?" Surely the strength of your feelings tells you enough for you to accept me, without needing to seek the approbation of your friends besides?'

His tone was composed, and yet there was a note of tension below it and feeling almost pressed with an urgency, and afraid to offend him and his offer be withdrawn, she said, ‘Forgive me, but I am not sure of my feelings—I have never been in love before! To marry means to leave all that I have known, all that is dear to me. I must speak with my sisters, and Mama. I must consult my family and John, before deciding. Will you grant me a few days to think?'

Ambrose stood immediately. ‘Mr Dashwood is aware I wish to make you my wife, but perhaps it will do you good to speak with your brother in any case. Very well. I shall give you a week, Miss Dashwood. I shall await your decision. It shall not be said that I am not reasonable man. Good day.'

He withdrew from the room, and she heard him leave the house, but she could do little but stand in place where he had left her. Had she come close to refusing the most eligible man in all of London? He was dazzling—so very fascinating, so very worldly—all that she had imagined she desired in a husband. And yet, she was not quite sure in her heart. What did love feel like? She owned that she had doubts, that her head and her heart were not yet unreservedly his. But he was considered so highly in town, and by Fanny and John, that she was afraid of being considered nice in her choices. Now her refusal of Captain Edwin came to her, and her reasons for refusing echoed in her mind, that she did not know herself enough to know what she truly wanted in life. Was it marriage, after all? Was it Mr Ambrose?

Fanny now entered the room, and not without an urgency of manner. "Mr Ambrose has left? But what is the meaning of this? Surely he asked you?'

Margaret could not be untruthful. ‘He did ask me to marry him, Fanny, and I did not refuse—I only asked for some time to consult mama, and John, and to think.'

Fanny was all astonishment. ‘On what did you suppose you needed to think, Miss Margaret? You have been proposed to by the most eligible of men! You will be the object of many women's envy! On what basis did you see the need to ponder such an offer?' Fanny was almost beside herself.

Margaret, however, knowing enough of her sister-in-law's character to remain unmoved, was resolute.

‘I wish to consult Mama, and Elinor. And even more importantly, Fanny, I must consult my own inclination, my own feelings! Would you have me choose for your sake and then be unhappy?'

Fanny shook her head in despair. ‘We shall see what Mr Dashwood says, when he comes home from his club, and then you shall perhaps be made to see that to consult your own inclination as you would have it, is by far a most selfish act considering your family's position in life, and your mother's circumstance! After all we have done to bring you forward! You ungrateful girl! You cannot expect Edward to keep you for ever, when your mother is gone, and nor can you expect Colonel Brandon to forever have you under his roof!'

Margaret, vexed beyond reply and now harbouring feelings most ungrateful indeed, left the room and the haranguing tongue of Fanny, and sought respite for some hours in her room before it was time to go down for dinner and face her brother .

She wrote to Elinor, and to her Mama, begging their advice, and when it was done, she sat for a long time, looking out over the snow-covered streets, from her window, deep in thought.