Page 94 of Trapped with the Forbidden Duke
Edwina held back a chuckle, having caught her aunt. “How terrible.”
“He is! He steals everything! The last slice of bread at dinner, the last glass of wine—which we have rationed into very small helpings, should he need to resist the temptation to overindulge once reintroduced to Society. Now, he is stealing my chocolates. They are my one joy while I’m out here all alone.”
Again, Edwina bit back a laugh, for her aunt had always enjoyed living alone. “I am sure more chocolate can be bought.”
Her aunt’s face lit up. “Tremendous! Now, my dear, how are you?”
“I am… doing tremendously well,” Edwina replied, smiling softly. “Married life agrees with me.” The memory of her bent over the breakfast table the other morning while her husband thrust into her flashed through her mind. “It agrees with mea lot.”
“I must admit, your letter was not entirely convincing, but you seem to be much happier than I thought you would be. I caught a glimpse of you and His Grace as you entered the estate. I can see the way he looks at you, Edwina.”
Edwina took a moment to remember the short note she had sent to her aunt during the first week of her marriage, not long after an argument with the Duke and days of avoidance.
Isabel had seen the truth well enough. But now Edwina truly was happy.
“How does he look at me?” she dared to ask.
Isabel took her hand. “As though you are the sun and you are about to come out after the darkest of days. As though he is not even aware of how much he needs sunlight. It is a look you deserve to receive, whether you see it or not. I can see the spark between you two.”
Edwina blushed, smiling widely as she thought of their growing closeness. “Thank you, Aunt Isabel. How has your stay here been?”
“It has been difficult at times,” her aunt admitted. “Your brother’s care is more serious than I realized.”
Again, Edwina had the sense that her aunt had known about Nicholas’s addiction all along, that it might not have been possible to hide in such close proximity, but neither of them said it aloud.
“I am sure he is grateful for your presence,” Edwina told her. “It sounds as though he may have gone mad if he was left alone.”
“I fearImight go mad if I go through another day hearing him pacing in his room. He cannot sleep, and by midday, he is exhausted and falls asleep wherever he is. But I am here for him, and that is all that matters.”
“Indeed,” she said. “And you can write to us should you need anything.”
“Only more chocolate,” Isabel grumbled. “And a stash of wine of my own.”
Edwina laughed, turning to drink her tea. “I am sure we can discuss that.”
“I would like to discuss the social events you are scheduled to attend,” Isabel said, perhaps ready to draw the attention away from Nicholas. “I wish to see my niece performing her ducal duties properly.”
Edwina sighed but smiled. “Well, there is the Rothmonds’ garden party next week…”
And thus appeared a glint in her aunt’s eyes as she told her about her social duties.
The Viscount and Viscountess Rothmond had decided to host a garden party to celebrate the engagement of their daughter, Grace, to a wealthy gentleman’s son—the Viscount Oakton—andEdwina rather enjoyed watching the festivities as she stood next to her husband.
She was holding a glass of champagne, sipping from it slowly as she watched Grace be led around the garden by her betrothed.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” she asked Lucien, gazing up at him.
She imagined hosting a similar event one day, and, without her quite realizing it, she was already envisioning how her children might look like.
Perhaps her daughter would have Lucien’s eyes and hair and her height. Pretty, petite, the lady every suitor would want to court.
Perhaps her son, who would be groomed to take over the dukedom, would be handsome and striking, just like his father.
Edwina quickly shut those thoughts down, reminding herself that Lucien had never spoken of the necessity to have children.
“Very,” he answered, his gaze unfocused as he looked at the proud Viscount as his daughter was handed back to him.
Lord Oakton, Grace, and the Viscount himself stood around a silver vase of peonies, all speaking joyfully.
