Page 46 of Euphoria
In my own mind, I would stand up to her and proclaim my union with Edward, but I was far too meek to do so even if I wasn’t confined by the agreement we’d shared the other night. He had chosen me, albeit not in a way I fully liked, so that should be enough of a triumph without rubbing another’s face in it.
Service began, and the salad course was served followed by the soup. As I picked at the food before me, I was keenly aware of Edward’s presence, the string binding us together taut in our close proximity. If I was bold, I would raise my eyes, find his, and share a secret smile. If I was bold, which I was not. I continued to sit rigidly among the rich guests, attempting to play a part I didn’t understand.
Greta and Devon chattered aimlessly about one thing or another—their family’s yachts and how they compared and whose was better, their work, their current stay at Thornfield, and the excursion they’d taken to a neighboring manor some twenty miles south. From time to time, they asked me a question or attempted to include me in their meanderings, but I knew nothing of boats and multi-million-pound businesses, so my attempts to include myself were paltry at best.
It wasn’t until the main course arrived that I glanced up. Edward was staring at me intently, his brow furrowed. I’d come to know when he was deep in thought, and he had that look about him now. He was puzzling me out. His lips curved as my gaze lingered, and every part of my body began to hum.
After several nights of pleasure at his hands, I was yet to return it, and that’s where my mind went. I imagined the look on his rugged face as he came undone, my body screaming to fall to its knees before his and unravel his longing.
Laughter beside me broke Edward’s spell, and I blinked. I was so bewildered by what had passed between us, my eyes clashed with Blanche’s.
She scowled, then turned to Edward. Instantly, she followed his intent stare, and as it led straight back to me, her annoyance rose even more. Lowering my gaze, I fixed it on my plate, my mind too scrambled to concentrate on the conversation around me. I let myself draw away, and soon, it was as if I wasn’t there at all. Greta and Devon talked to their other tablemates, not troubling to include me, and I felt the familiar maw of depression open up inside me.
I could pretend all I liked, but it was painfully clear I didn’t belong in this world. I longed for the simplicity of the kitchen and the staff who had become my friends. I desired something entirely different than what was laid on this table before me.
As with the first night Edward had commanded me, I should have denied him. Was I so eager to please lest he leave me behind again?
Excusing myself as the last of the plates from the main course were cleared, I slipped from the dining room, my chest feeling lighter as the oppressive stare of Blanche Ingram was removed from my body.
“You’re going to miss dessert.”
I turned at the sound of Edward’s voice and scowled. “I care not for cake.”
He knew I was unhappy, and he took a step toward me. “Jane…”
“I would please you but to command me to sit there and be ignored? I would think you cared little for me.”
“You were at the other end of the table,” he said, reaching for my hand and grasping it in his own. “I asked you to come because I needed you there, Jane.”
“I am not a lucky charm,” I said. “I am a person with heart and feelings.”
“Did you try, Jane?” he asked.
I hesitated. “I…”
He lowered his gaze. “I see.”
“I would make you happy,” I muttered. “But I feel as if I’m a disappointment. I could have tried harder, but I fear I have not much in common with your friends. They are so far above me I flounder.”
His gloomy cloud began to rain down on us both as he said, “I see I’ve done you wrong yet again.”
“No,” I declared, tightening my grasp on his hand. “I’m not suited for fine dinners and light conversation. What do I know of sailing through the Greek islands? I’ve never been out of England.”
Edward didn’t reply, just raised his hand and plucked the tiny piece of glass that posed as a diamond from my throat and turned it around in his fingers.
“I feel like that stone,” I murmured. “Pretending to be more than she is worth.”
“Don’t,” he said, his voice rasping. “Don’t compare yourself. Physical wealth cannot be compared for spiritual fulfillment. We share something that cannot be held in comparison to anything on this earth. I need you close, Jane.”
“I can be close in the kitchen,” I offered.
There was a crash behind us from the dining room, followed by laughter, and we pulled apart like lightning. My heart beat wildly at the thought we could have been discovered standing so familiar with one another.
Edward sighed and ran his hand over his face, his eyes showing signs of exhaustion. “Jane, could you humor me for one more week?”
“Why? If it’s only one more week, surely…”
“Please?”
It was not in his nature to plead, so I acquiesced. “Of course.”
For a moment, I was sure his mask slipped and revealed a little more of the secret demon he was harboring. I fancied I could see the toll it was taking on his spirit, and what was revealed alarmed me.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, beginning to worry.
“Yes,” he said, waving me off. “Rest tonight, Jane. Tomorrow…” He glanced over his shoulder toward the dining room, and seeing the door still closed, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on my lips before hastily withdrawing. A daring move indeed!
“Tomorrow,” I replied. “Rest well, sir.”
And there we parted, two secret lovers adrift in two storms of their own, both unwilling to share the burden.
