An Innocent Affair

XIII

"And isn't it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?" Taylor Swift, Invisible String

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XIII.

As Cressie looked up into the crystal blue eyes of Jem Denham, there could be no contradicting what she saw there. It was an intensity that she could scarcely describe and could certainly no longer deny.

What she saw was great feeling, and Cressie could be certain of this because she felt it, too. She felt it immensely, suddenly, all at once, and perhaps, all this time.

It was immediately overwhelming to become awash with such attachment to the young man sat in front of her. It was almost enough to distract from the fact that Cressie had not pieced together Jem's own regard for her.

The man had proposed last November, Cressie!

Cressie gasped. She could see it all in his eyes, his beautiful ocean eyes. Oh, the ocean! He had remembered and he had tried to give it to her that very day. Oh, oh!

Was it love? Cressie didn't know what love was supposed to feel like, but was it this? She ... she wanted to be closer to him, to hold his hand as he had held hers in the carriage. But there was more, she wanted more. She wanted his smiles and laughs, she wanted them all. Suddenly the thought of the Season and all the other pretty ladies spinning in their skirts became unbearable. She wanted to hear everything Jem had to say and more. Cressie wanted to ask him so many questions that she promptly forgot them all. And she wanted to tell him everything in return. She wanted Jem's questions, and she wanted to share her heart as she had been during their day.

Jem had proposed last November. The thought circled her mind uncontrollably, and it made her wonder, hope, if he loved her, too. Cressie thought it was love. She hoped it was. Because it felt wonderful and terrifying and confusing all at once.

Cressie could not imagine binding herself to a keeper. The very thought of being kept sounded abhorrent to her. And Jem had said it himself. She ought to find a partner. Was that what he would be? Did he wonder this himself?

"You look as though you have sucked on a lemon," Jem murmured, a bashful tone in his voice. "I hope I was not too presumptuous, but I fear I have been. I have taken far too many liberties today already."

Cressie seemed to stumble over her own tongue as she realised Jem thought that she was reacting poorly to his last statement. What on earth would he think if he could read her mind in this very moment? Certainly, he would think that Cressie was half mad for how fast her mind was racing.

"No!" she nearly shouted. Cressie scrambled onto her knees, collecting her damp hems as she did, which only served as a reminder of Jem's regard. "I ... Mama brought me to London to find a husband ... I know I must marry," she rambled, "and I do not want to be wed to someone horrid ... I know Mama wants me to be happy and to find happiness ..." Cressie's words began to blend together as her nerves affected her tongue. She did not have any idea how her thoughts were becoming words, and she felt as though she had no control over what she was saying. "She would approve, wouldn't she? If she knew I was happy? I feel like I would be ... I feel everything ... I think this is how one is supposed to feel. Do you? I ... I would ... I think you do ... and I cannot fathom ... me! Who am I? I ..." Cressie huffed, "... I fantasise about oceans and would rather have a laugh than participate in stuffy conversation and I find running a far more efficient method of getting from one place to another and I think I love you, Jem Denham, and I quite enjoy food Mama thinks is 'peasant food' and I –"

Jem clapped a hand over Cressie's mouth, stifling anymore of her nonsense. As she had rambled, she had looked away from him, but his action brought her gaze back to his. Jem's lips were clamped shut as an impossibly gleeful smile filled the bottom half of his face. His cheeks were flushed completely red, but Cressie did not think that Jem had ever looked happier.