on her part. Now, she’d gained absolution, yet there were no forthcoming declarations or pledging of troths.
“…Our situation is unchanged.”
Someone jostled her, and Felicity’s cheeks blazed red, her feet hurrying to catch up to the other dancers, only to stumble. Mr. Finch’s strong hands were there to steady her, covering her misstep as best he could.
Coming to her resting place, Felicity watched the gentlemen as they completed their portion of the dance, and her mind spiraled into a quagmire of supposition, searching for the meaning behind his words.
Had she imagined his feelings? Heat swept over her, and Felicity closed her eyes, as though that might hide her from the others. But even as embarrassment overtook her, his words from that evening returned to her thoughts. Her heart was too engaged to trust its interpretation of his behavior, but more than the appearance of affections, Mr. Finch’s words had all but admitted his admiration of her.
Puffing out her cheeks, Felicity groaned at her foolishness. Surely, at her age, she ought not to be overwrought by wild speculations into the logic and sentiments of men.
The dance brought them together for several steps, and Mr. Finch avoided looking at her as they moved together. Biding her time, Felicity waited for a pause.
“What do you mean, Mr. Finch? That evening, you made it clear that…” Felicity struggled with the words. Though the others paid them little heed, she did not like having witnesses to this conversation. Yet the moment the set was over, she knew the vultures waiting at the edges of the dance would steal her away again. This was no time to be a wilting miss.
“You gave me every indication that the impediment between us was our lack of funds. That is not the case. So, why do you insist the situation is unchanged?”
“I have no profession, Miss Barrows. That is unchanged.”
Felicity’s brows drew together. “What need have you of a profession when I have income enough for the both of us?”
Those words had Mr. Finch’s expression hardening as his gaze slid to the floor. The hand at his side clenched as he murmured, “So, I go from being my family’s ornament to being yours?”
Straightening, Felicity stared at him, but the dance pulled them away again, and she cursed the fool who’d choreographed the wretched thing. Could he not have given the couples a tad more time together before they went flailing about once more? As she moved about the dance floor, her eyes fixed on Mr. Finch, but he would not meet her gaze.
Did he truly think she viewed him as such? To her thinking, the role of spouse and parent was a far cry from being an “ornament.” But was there more to his meaning? Various interpretations of his words sprang to mind, and Felicity itched to drag him from the dance floor so they could discuss this properly.
When the dance finally allowed it, Felicity pounced. “That is hardly a fair comparison, Mr. Finch. And I would think you would be pleased with this situation, for you would have work enough with our properties and investments. Even with a man of business and steward, there is so much work to be done, and I would welcome a partner.”
“And an unequal match where the husband brings nothing to the marriage?” Mr. Finch did not look at her as he spoke the words, casting his gaze about the room as though searching for an escape. His teeth ground together, the muscles in his jaw tightening.
But Felicity’s thoughts were fixed on his words, pulling them apart as she tried to grasp the underlying meaning. Was his pride pricked that others might believe him a fortune hunter? Unequal matches elicited some snickers and judgments, but surely that was no reason to forgo their joy.
“What does it matter, Mr. Finch? If we are happy together, surely your income is but a detail.”
His gaze fell to the ground, his expression pinching as he examined the floorboards, but before he could reply, the dance drew them away once more, and Felicity struggled through the steps. Was this all a matter of masculine pride? That foolish quality pushed men to do idiotic things simply to prove themselves better than their counterparts. It had already left its mark on Mr. Finch’s forehead; was it now to claim his future as well? And hers?
The pair moved through their set, getting only snippets of a conversation, but each reiterated the issue of the money. Felicity could not comprehend why it mattered