Page 22 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
He hastened his steps, pressing back to the wall to stay out of sight, as he heard a man speaking again.
“You promised yourself to me, Rebecca! We—we spoke of a life together. Youpromised, and now I can see that I was never truly good enough for you. Not with the life you have. Ballrooms and suitors that you have parading yourself around for the attention of. How do you think it makes me feel to hear such things? I must always be quiet. The man in the background who has been fond of you since we were children. I thought it was the same for you.”
“Harry, I… Harry, please step back and let me explain. I must have space.Please.”
Edward stiffened, his hand clenching into a fist. For a moment he didn’t care about his nerves or anxiety—all he heard was the clatter of something knocking over, and he rounded into the drawing room, finding Rebecca shoved hard against the bar that bore several bottles of brandy and a knocked-over tumbler.
A man with short, tight curls and a face that didn’t look as though the anger he showed belonged on it, an expression too sharp and harsh for the soft features he possessed, bore overRebecca, one hand clamped around her wrist to pin her to the bar.
His mouth was bared in a terrible snarl as he loomed over her, and in Rebecca’s face was pure bone-white fear as she turned her face away from him.
“I am,” she tried, but she sounded more breathless than he’d ever heard her, “I am sorry. I… I cannot truly explain, I...”
“I don’t think you are,” the man whispered, shaking his head. “I think you rather like the attention, Rebecca. Heaven knows I was never enough for you, was I?”
“Harry.” Edward cringed, feeling as though he was intruding on something he had no place overhearing, but then Rebecca was shoved harder against the bar, and she cried out before she clamped a hand over her own mouth. But Edward was already storming in, towards this man who was hurting his friend, and grabbed the back of his jacket.
Hauling him back, Edward gained the upper hand on surprise alone. He wasn’t a fighter, but he clenched a fist again, staring the other man down.
“I do not know what you want,” he said lowly, “but I suggest you leave Lady Rebecca alone. She sounds clear enough that she does not want your attention at present.” His voice snapped harder than he’d ever let it be. He had always been a soft-spoken man, always too afraid of speaking too loudly or boldly, but the sound of Rebecca’s cry, made him feel protective.
He looked at her now, finding her cowering against the bar, her shoulders pulled tight.
“Would you like him to leave?”
Rebecca couldn’t meet any of their gazes as she nodded, her face flush with pink. Edward’s fingers curled into the man’s shoulder, wrenching him back, hard, so he staggered into the center of the drawing room. Harry rounded on him, but Edward easily sidestepped, grabbing him to push him towards the door.
“Leave,” he ordered.
But as the man did, both the duchess and Edward’s mother appeared in the doorway, their eyes wide.
“We heard a...” The duchess broke off, frowning. “Harry? What on Earth are you doing in here?”
“Leaving,” he snapped, looking between the four of them, before he grabbed a book that was left on the arm of a couch. “For my mother.” His muttering rang with bitterness Edward couldn’t shake even when Harry had left the room.
But before he could, the duchess called out to him. “You may see yourself excused for the remainder of the day. Do not come back tomorrow, either. Not until His Grace speaks with your mother.”
Harry’s snarl of anger was loud enough for Rebecca to let out an audible, shaky gasp. They all stared after him, listening to the angry footsteps thundering down the hallway. Slowly, Edward’s mother turned to the duchess.
“Who was that?”
The duchess’s brow furrowed as she swept closer to Rebecca, cupping her face, flitting her hands over her as if checking her for injury. “That is Harry Maudley. His Grace has employed the same tutor since Rebecca was young, and she still teaches Finley and Oliver. Harry is her son, and he was rather fond of Rebecca at one time. I think she pitied him, though, for she humored him. And now… well, I fear I should have shut down this arrangement a long time ago.”
“Mother,” Rebecca began to protest. “He is not entirely in the wrong...”
“Do not worry,” the duchess said quickly, while Edward still tried to make sense of it all. “He is gone now. Your father will likely not allow him to return, and that is even if we keep Mrs. Maudley on as the boys’ tutor.”
I thought it was the same for you… we had an arrangement.Edward was thinking Harry’s words again.
What had he interrupted, and was it for the better or worse?
Edward cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the other ladies in the room. Suddenly, his nerves flared deep within him, and he shifted awkwardly. “It is a lovely day.” His eyes caught Rebecca’s. “If it would not be improper, perhaps your lady’s maid could accompany us while we stroll through Laketide Park? I believe I passed it on my way over.”
At that, he’d never seen such gratitude in somebody’s face, Rebecca nodded eagerly. “We should do that. I will call for Lottie.”
With her head ducked in what he hoped wasn’t shame, Rebecca fled the room even if she could have had somebody send for her lady’s maid.
Edward nodded once and stepped back to allow her a smooth exit, aware of the mothers’ eyes on him. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say or how to navigate the situation. It was clear something had happened with Rebecca and Harry, butwhat? It wasn’t his place to pry, but perhaps, as her friend, it could be his place to enquire of her well-being.
