Nora’s forehead took to furrowing. “Surely you haven’t been away from society so long that you’ve forgotten that there is little, even a blizzard, that can stop a good story from making the rounds.” She reached over the side of her chair and snatched up a newspaper, which she immediately took to snapping open.
“Surely you’re not about to tell me that Wilhelmina and I made the newspapers, are you?” Edgar asked rather weakly as Nora began thumbing through the pages.
Nora nodded. “I’m afraid you did, dear—and not a mere mention, mind you, but almost an entire column dedicated to you and Wilhelmina, a column that was penned by the illustrious and oh-so-mysterious Miss Quill.”
“Miss . . . Quill?”
“She’s the darling of the society columns these days, writing about the current fashions that are being worn to all the balls and operas. She’s even been known to include descriptions of the interiors of the houses owned by society members, a circumstance that has had society in an uproar ever since her first column appeared two years ago.”
Nora peered at him over the top of the newspaper. “Our family has endeavored to keep our business out of the public eye, but you and Wilhelmina somehow attracted Miss Quill’s notice.”
“How is that possible? As I said, few people even knew that Wilhelmina and I had stepped away from the crowds in order to have a private conversation.”
“Far be it from me to point out the foolishness of the two of you choosing a secluded conservatory to have that conversation in, dear, but . . . you did choose it, you were discovered, and Miss Quill—bless her far too observant heart—found out about it.”
Edgar sat forward. “You mentioned something about Wilhelmina and me being touted as the romance story of the season, but how in the world did that come about? Believe me, there was nothing romantic at all regarding the manner in which I announced to Mrs. Travers that there was soon to be a wedding.”
“I would hope there was something romantic about your announcement.”
“I’m afraid not.”
Edgar wasn’t certain, but it seemed as if his mother actually took to exchanging a rolling of the eyes with Mr. Hodges this time.
“I can only thank the good Lord above,” she began after she turned back to him and Mr. Hodges assumed his usual stoic demeanor, “that your father and brother are away on business at the moment, because, well, I’m sure they’d have quite a bit to say regarding your current circumstance.”
She released the tiniest of sighs. “Honestly, Edgar, one would have thought, considering you failed so spectacularly to win Wilhelmina’s hand the first time you proposed to her, that you would have tried a little more diligently to pull off a romantic moment the second time around.”
“And one would have thought, considering how put out you’ve been at Wilhelmina over her rejecting my proposal all those years ago, that you would be trying to figure out a way to get me out of marrying her rather than marrying her.”
“I’ve always adored Wilhelmina,” Nora said with a rattle of the paper she was still holding. “And while I’m sure I did lend the impression of being put out with her, that was mostly for your benefit, dear.”
Edgar’s mouth dropped open. “Do not tell me that you’ve been holding out hope all these years for something like this to happen.”
“I must admit that I have, and . . . now it would seem as if that hope was not misplaced if a wedding does indeed occur between the two of you in the foreseeable future.”
Reaching for his tea again, Edgar drained the cup and set it aside. “I’m hesitantly optimistic that a wedding may soon take place, especially since I have come to realize that I still love Wilhelmina. I find her to be a most enchanting creature, and I would be a lucky gentleman indeed if she would truly agree to become my wife.”
Nora frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand why you’re only hesitantly optimistic about marrying Wilhelmina. You’ve mentioned a time or two now that you told Mrs. Travers you were to be married, and while I know you’ve been away from society for quite some time, surely you haven’t forgotten that, as a gentleman, you have no choice but to go through with the wedding. And, as a lady, Wilhelmina can’t refute your declaration, not if she wants to keep her reputation, and . . . she can forget about continuing on as a social secretary if she doesn’t go through with the marriage because she’ll be looked at forevermore as a woman of loose moral values.”
She rattled the paper again. “Add in the article Miss Quill published, and I can say with all certainty that there will be a wedding to plan, whether Wilhelmina has doubts or not.”
Turning his attention to the newspaper in his mother’s hand, Edgar felt a trace of trepidation begin to run through him. Wilhelmina, he well remembered, was not a lady who ever did the expected. If she came to the conclusion they were being forced to marry because of Mrs. Travers and now an article penned by some mysterious Miss Quill person, there was absolutely no telling how she might react.