Page 27 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
“Come,” she ordered, as if she was the eldest. Edward just gaped at her in dismay as he had little choice but to follow. A muscle in his cheek worked as he went through the process of composing himself. Before he could even greet Rebecca, Elena swept forward, slipping herself between the duke’s daughter and Lady Mary, urging them aside to look at some flower she feigned spotting.
Edward saw through her tricks immediately as he was left with Lady Catherine. He tore his attention from Rebecca and let it settle on the woman before him instead. He hoped his smile was not the grimace he feared it was.
Hers was already fixed in place, overly wide and almost menacing. Edward didn’t trust it, but he offered his arm regardless. He cringed at Rebecca noticing and quickly looked away.
“Lady Catherine,” he greeted.
“Lord Thornshire,” she returned. “I could not help myself in steering the ladies in your direction when I spotted you from a distance. I had hoped to bump into you, you know, outside the...” She let out a sigh, as if weary, and let out a laugh. “Utter insanity of the ballrooms.”
Edward looked sideways at her. “How strange, for you always seem so comfortable in them.”
Her face froze as if caught out, but she continued on with another laugh. “How observant! It is true, I do like my balls, but any woman who claims she does not is too modest. Here is alady’s secret, Lord Thornshire: we love to act demure, but when we grow comfortable with a suitor, we become ourselves.”
Edward nodded. “And whoisyourself, Lady Catherine, if not who I have already met?”
The lady frowned, and fell silent for a moment. She gave another chuckle, but didn’t answer. Instead, she urged him on with their walk. The river rushed alongside them, white foam hitting rocks in the current, and the bank slipped down dangerously, muddy and wet from recent rainfall.
He peered over the edge that fell into the embankment, but up ahead was a small bridge that arched over part of the river before it dipped into a small waterfall.
Behind him, he heard the ladies talking, and he almost ached to be among them, to know what had made Rebecca look so fatigued, to know if she was well.
Instead, he was stuck with Lady Catherine as she gripped his arm a touch too hard.
“Lord Thornshire, if you do not mind me commenting, I am rather disappointed in you.” Although her words had him whipping his head around to look at her in offense, her tone was teasing, yet he ignored that part. “I really thought you would call upon me. We have bondedsowell over these several balls. I was unhappy over your absence at the Ashfordlys’ ball, of course, and I spoke with Lady Elena about it. She did not divulge a great deal about your absence…”
The lingering silence said she wanted him to answer for himself, but he was too surprised that his sister hadn’t turned his lack of attendance into gossip fodder, and then he felt bad about expecting such a thing.
He glanced at Elena—yet in doing so, he caught Rebecca’s gaze, and he quickly looked away, but found his gaze returning a moment later. Elena wanted him to pursue Lady Catherine; hismother wanted him to matchmake with Rebecca, and he simply wanted her company.
If he could, he would send everyone in the park away and stroll the pathway with her and catch up on everything they had missed about one another’s lives since childhood. How had her debutante ball been? What marriage proposals had she turned down? Did she have a favorite instrument to play? What was her favorite color to wear, and what flavor of treats did she look for?
Edward surprised himself by even thinking of any of that.
“Well?” Lady Catherine pushed.
Edward snapped his gaze back to her, thinking of a quick excuse. “I… I was ailed.”
“With what?”
He flinched at how she demanded. “A—stomachache.”
Cringing at his own flimsy excuse, he gave a tight smile. But Lady Catherine was not pleased.
Her mouth pinched.
“Perhaps we could join the others,” he offered, trying to diffuse the tension he felt he had caused. Truthfully, returning to the others might force her to drop her grip on his arm, and he wished for that. Her closeness brought him too much discomfort, and it was an effort to let his gaze stray to Rebecca.
“Perhaps we should not,” she countered, pulling him along, much the way Elena had. He hated it and he hated that he was so easily moved and directed. Edward’s teeth ground together, but he let her pull him along. He really had to put an end to this; he didn’t like Catherine, and to lead her on would be cruel. He could not see himself marrying her, despite Elena’s wishes.
Well, who would you marry, then?He imagined his sister asking haughtily, displeased.
Edward turned. The three ladies behind them strolled along at a much leisurely pace. One again, his gaze tangled with Rebecca’s. It was she who looked away this time.
Her, he thought.I would marry Rebecca Sterling.
The thought came to him, bold and courageous, at odds with how he truly felt inside. But he knew his insides only reflected his lack of desire to marry Lady Catherine and spend the rest of his life with a woman whom he truly could not imagine doing it with.
However, Rebecca had made it clear she had a specific strategy, a ploy that she was working to her advantage. Was Edward powerful enough? Wealthy enough? Was he the sort of man she was looking for, and if so, why had she agreed to keep their connection purely platonic as well? Her ambition drove her, he could see that clearly, but what would she say if he proposed to her?
