A few minutes of dancing left me feeling completely out of breath. "For someone who has the habit of tripping over her feet on several occasion, you dance with great elegance," Mr. Richfield said, slowing to a stop. "You will grace the dance floor of the Knighton Ball many times, or the other gentlemen are fools."
I wasn't sure whether to feel the insult that he assumed I was clumsy. It was only on a few occasions my feet moved of their own accord. Instead, I focused on the compliment he'd offered to me. "Are you prepared to see so many fools in one place?" I asked lightly. "It may sound as though it will be amusing, but I can assure you it will be tedious."
Mr. Richfield laughed. "Your sharp mind is one of the things I admire about you."
At least he seemed amused. Most gentlemen didn't wish for a lady to use her mind for anything other than malicious gossip. I appreciated more than ever I had caught the attention of such an honorable man.
"We should return to the others," I said, glancing over to pond. My attention was caught by Will, who was at the edge of the water and reaching for something out of sight. Seeing him crouched down reminded me of something I couldn't quite place, and I felt a sharp stab of anxiety.
"Diana, are you well? Are you tired?"
"I'm—I'm fine," I said, trying to convince myself more than him. Will It took a second before it hit me what Mr. Richfield had said: my Christian name, just as he had done when he'd helped wake me up after the attack. Startled, I brought my gaze back to him.
He still held my hand in his. "Diana. I approached your father, and he gave permission for me to speak to you. I've just been waiting for the right opportunity."
Oh.
"Diana Forester, when I first met you in London, I was struck by how you were unlike other young ladies," Mr. Richfield continued, his eyes meeting mine. "You keep to yourself. You do not get involved in other people's affairs, but you are a caring person at the same time. Beneath your quiet demeanor is an intelligent young lady whom other people appear to overlook at times."
Was this truly happening? How different this was from when Philip had asked if I would marry me. He had simply said we would rub along well together, but here Mr. Richfield had detailed what he appreciated about me. A warm glow began to fill my heart.
"You are a devoted daughter and sister. You trip over your feet when you are flustered, which is adorable."
My cheeks heated up, and I couldn't be sure if it was because I was embarrassed to be hearing this or because I wasn't breathing.
"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
An incredulous laugh left my lips, and for a moment, his expression filled with horror. "Yes! Yes, of course, I will!"
Smiling broadly, he kissed the back of my hand and then stepped forward. My breath caught in my throat as I realized he intended on kissing me properly. "Richfield!" Philip Knighton's voice reached us. "We need you for a game."
Mr. Richfield—John—groaned as he tucked my hand in his elbow. "Please, let me tell my family first," I said as he escorted me back to the rest of the party. "Before anyone else is told, I mean."
The last thing I wanted was to have it announced to the picnic, in front of Miss Reynolds, who I was sure would cause a scene. Thankfully, my now betrothed was in complete agreement. "Yes, of course. I will write a letter to my mother tonight."
He guided me back to the other ladies and saw I was seated comfortably. Then, he squeezed my hand before he went to join the game that was being started, though he kept glancing back to make sure I was still well.
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A Chaotic Courtship (Rough Draft)
Historical FictionTwenty-year-old Diana Forester, a country-bred young woman fears that her inexperience and uncertainties have driven Mr. John Richfield away. On arriving back home from London, she learns that he is already there, ready to continue their acquaintanc...