Page 40 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
“Heavens, yes! We have been friends for many years, and she has always held a soft spot for the tutor’s son. She has implied that it has not always been… a decent connection as well, if you understand.” The heavy silence after suggested enough indecency, and mortification slid like a hot poker into Rebecca’s chest.
She stepped back, her breathing ragged.
“An affair with a man who has no money or prospects, or even any social standing,” Catherine laughed, enough to draw more attention. “Let us hope whoever asks for her hand knows what he is entering into.”
Rebecca stumbled, almost knocking into a server who expertly dodged her, holding his tray of wine glasses aloft to avoid any spilling on her. She wasn’t even focused enough to utter an apology, and quickly ran away. Away from Catherine, who had not seen her; away from Mary and her strangeness; away from the lies and deception she had not seen coming. Away from the rumors that she couldn’t help fear would begin circulating.
And away from the ice-cold terror that it was only a matter of time that Edward would hear and rethink everything he had heard from her. The way Harry had approached her in thedrawing room could be reinterpreted, and Harry’s words could be damning enough that Rebecca might not be believed against the force of Catherine’s rumor.
Tears blurred her vision, and Rebecca fled the ballroom with a tight chest and panting breaths she couldn’t get under control.
Chapter Thirteen
Breakfast in Thornshire House the day after the Balkans’ ball was lively, something Edward had come to start enjoying.
No, perhaps that was too strong of a word, but it was no longer full of silences that made him feel on-edge with his mother. If anything, the ire mostly came from Elena, but she had said very little to him since he had confronted her about not wanting to be with Catherine.
“I saw you speaking with Lady Rebecca a great deal last night,” his mother commented. For once, she didn’t glare at him over her teacup, and he knew that had only changed due to him falling into line with what she wanted for him. He had agreed to find a wife, and he was participating as well as he could; he was making her happy. Her love and contentment with him was conditional, and Edward had long accepted that.
“I did,” he told her.
“Following the visit you made to Bancroft Manor, I would assume the conversation was positive?”
“Indeed,” he said. “In fact, so positive that I have some news to share with you both.” At that, his mother sat up straighter in her dining chair, lowering the knife she was using to cut open a bun. “I have stated my intentions to marry Lady Rebecca Bancroft. She is the most suitable lady for me, and we are well-matched as well as friends already. I see no reason to waste my time sifting through quite frankly torturous dances to find a wife, when she is right there, and we will be happy with one another.
“I am making a point to visit her father later this week.”
Edward let his announcement settle with his family, and he looked back and forth between them. His mother’s face broke into utter glee, her grin making her look softer than he’d seen ina very long time, while anger slowly crept into his sister’s pretty features.
“Why wait so long to approach her father?” his mother asked. “I do not ask as a demand, but curiosity.”
He nodded. “We both know the match comes at the cost of other ladies for me, or suitors for her, being disappointed. She is a highly notorious duke’s daughter, after all. Her wealth and status puts her at the top of many lords’ lists. So I suppose these last few days are something I have offered her without stating it because I want her to ensure she is making the right decision with me.”
“I believe neither of you are.”
His sister’s hard words came out clipped, her teacup slammed into her saucer. It drew Edward’s attention to her. Her mouth was pulled into a grim line as she shook her head.
“Elena!”
“No,” she snapped. “I heard you well enough yesterday, brother. You chided me at length, but I still do not have to be happy about it. I believe you are making a mistake. Do you truly think anything good will come of this?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked quietly.
“It is just—the two of you have history! You are friends, and friends ought not to marry. Does Lady Rebecca not deserve a love match?”
He knew the question was asked in Elena’s desperation to sway him, and it worked for a moment, but he had asked Rebecca the exact same thing, and she had still accepted.
“It was her idea,” he finally told Elena. “I trust her to know what she wants. Lady Rebecca is a good woman. She is honest and kind, and I can see her being a good countess.”
“As can I,” his mother supported. It was off-putting, in a way, to do something worthy of his mother’s praise and favor for once, especially over Elena’s own opinion. They were usually soon par with one another that the situation was strange enough to make Edward freeze for a moment.
In the silence, Elena took to angrily cutting up the potatoes on her breakfast plate that were already cut into small cubes. Her mouth worked around words she held back. He knew she would not be given half a chance once their mother left the breakfast hall.
“Heed me, brother,” she snapped in the end, “Lady Catherine is the lady you should have gone with. When this all goes wrong, do not be so surprised.”
Edward set his utensils down with more force than he needed to, and it got his sister’s attention enough that she jumped. “Your worries hardly matter, Elena. I am the one getting married. I have done as you both asked. I have endured your lists and your plans. I danced with Lady Catherine, which was the only promise I made to you.”
He looked between them both before speaking more. “You pulled me from the comfort of Thornshire Hall to take my proper place as the head of the family. I never asked to be the earl, but now I am, and I have undertaken my duties. Focus on your own prospects, Elena, present me with your lists for yourself, and worry less about me. I will do as I please.”
