EighteenThe words were at the tip of his tongue: Why don’t you marry me, Georgiana? But they wouldn’t come out.
At one time, he would have said it in a trice. He would have said it without having to think about it even for a moment. But now he just could not make himself say the words, could not make himself feel the love and the passion for her he had once felt.
The dance ended. Georgiana took Fungy’s arm, and he led her out onto the balcony where he had just been with Miss Grace.
Georgiana leaned out looking into the garden below. “So, who is this young woman to whom you have given your heart?”
Fungy felt a rush of sheer shock run through him. But he made himself turn casually to look at her, leaning one hip against the balustrade. “Don’t know what you mean.”
She gave him a sly litt
