He froze, his thoughts the only part of him that continued to move. They spiraled in a flurry, for Edward had spent the last week missing Rebecca, worrying about her, wishing he had a right to know how she was. After the moments he had perceived them to have, he had been intending to propose to her, but not for mutually beneficial reasons.
And certainly not for only platonic reasons.
He was starting to realize that.
And the fact that she didn’t know how he felt was driving him half to insanity.
“Well?” she urged, and, from what Edward knew of the Duke of Bancroft, he thought that her formalities and logistics made her sound a lot like him.
He loosed a breath. “Yes,” he agreed quickly, stunning himself. “I agree. Yes… ah, mutually beneficial. Of course.” His words were messing this up, he knew. “We ought to speak about it better at the next ball, no? The Balkans’ ball, I believe.”
“Indeed.” Her eyes lit up, and he wished her happiness stemmed from the same as his, but he wondered if she truly only saw him as a platonic male. “Until the Balkans’ ball, then, Lord Thornshire.”
He blinked at the familiar phrase, the very thing he had said to her following her teasing comment about hiding behind a vase.
“Until the Balkans’ ball,” he murmured.
***
The days until the Balkans’ ball, Edward buried himself in plays. His anxiety kept flaring whenever he thought about leaving the house. He felt too cruel to blame it on the pressure he had received from Lady Catherine to act in specific ways that adhered to her own imagination, but he took to his books nonetheless, as he always had.
Elena came into his study where he was taking notes onMuch Ado About Nothing, a new favorite play of his, and she stood in front of his desk with her hands on her hips.
“I do not like what you are doing,” she informed him.
He barely looked up. “What, reading?”
“No, of course,” she tutted. “I am referring to Lady Catherine. I do not like that you are not seizing your chance with her. You have still not visited her and...”
“I plan to propose to Lady Rebecca Bancroft.”
His declaration landed like a blow, and he could see how Elena flinched at the revelation, but how else was he supposed to tell her in order to gain peace from not wanting to pursue Lady Catherine? Displeasure flickered over his sister’s face, and he watched as she thought through responses before answering.
“What of Lady Catherine?”
“I do not like her, Elena,” he answered. “And to be honest, I do not entirely believe she likes me. She likes the notoriety of gaining an earl’s favour, but she does not truly like me forme.”
Elena only stared at him, her mouth pressed into a firm line. “I am displeased.”
Edward fought the urge to apologize, and only looked back to his book. But the silence from his sister drew his attention once again. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am my own man, Elena. I can choose my own wife.”
Wife.
Heavens, the mere existence of the word curled nerves through him.
“Yes, but I wanted her for a sister.”
Edward’s chest tightened. In a fit of annoyance, he snapped, “then marry her brother, for she has one. Perhaps turn your attention to him instead of forcing me into a miserable marriage.” He hadn’t meant to be so harshly-spoken, but the words flew from his mouth anyway, and Elena flinched back. His anxiety gripped him, forcing him to keep speaking. “If you keep on enforcing these whims onto me, there will be consequences, Elena. I adore you as my sister, but I do not want to keep falling into line with what you and our mother command.”
“Consequences?” she laughed. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I will rescind the money Father left for you.”
As soon as he said it he regretted it. Grief wound through their house, never spoken of, never acknowledged, not truly, butflickered in Elena’s face now with the mention of their father. He pressed himself back into his chair, shaking his head.
“I am sorry,” he muttered. “I find myself very stressed. I truly do not want to marry Lady Catherine, Elena, but I want to keep you happy with me.”
His sister only stared back at him, both bewildered and confused, and Edward looked away from her instead, trying not to think too hard about anything.Focus on the ball tomorrow,he told himself.Focus on the engagement Rebecca spoke of.