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Show Page 24 In short, mistress, I am asking you to be my wife." My spittle fled, leaving me flannel-mouthed, and for an age my tongue lay still, so stunned was I by his proposal. My gaze was fixed--as though my eyes were glued in my skull--to the woven gold points tying his right sleeve to his doublet. Then my new spark of independence flamed and with it a spurt of anger at the injury he had done to my pride. Though it was true his family was of the gentry, while my father had been no more than a simple schoolteacher at a free school in London, it seemed ill-advised of him to refer to me to my face as a person of lesser quality. "Nay, sir, I'll not be your wife," I answered, "for I'll not wed with a man who looks upon the union as a favor to me, but as a step downward for his own self. Pray, sir, do not patronize me! And do not think you have honored me by your proposal, for I believe it is more meet to be the head of the yoemanry than the tail of the gentry." I was pleased to see his eyes snap open in surprise. "The maid has sharp teeth," he commented, his eyes then narrowing to slits. In truth, I marvel he did not strike me with the flat of his sword for my rudeness. Had I been a man he would have tossed down his glove and we would have met in a duel ere the sun rose on the morrow. For my part, I knew I had been too harsh in my reply, for he had only spoken the beliefs of all society. Though it grated upon me to do so, I hastened to make amends. |