Page 41 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
With that, he shoved back his chair and walked out of the breakfast hall, not quite angry, but more triumphant. At once, he whistled for his dogs to follow him out to the gardens to give them a stroll. The spring air coaxed him further out, deeper into the garden. They were nowhere as expansive as the countryside estate’s, but they did the job of making him feel like he had space.
He wandered up and down the long, thin pathways while Benedict and Barnes sniffed their way through the flowers. The Season had been hard enough with extra complications like his sister’s anger, but the way she was so insistent on him choosingLady Catherine was grating on his nerves. He didn’t like how continuously persistent she was about it.
He still had never made it to the Greenacre, and had declined a handful of balls. There had been a dinner party that he’d refused to go to and had caused his whole family not to attend at all after their argument over Edward’s absence. But as much as Rebecca didn’t like the ballrooms, it was easy to see she liked her socializing. She enjoyed going out; she loved the lights, it was easy to see. While she might not like the set-up of the matchmaking games, she liked the Season’s events.
If she married Edward, would he be signing up for a lifetime of discomfort to go out with her, or was she shackling herself indoors for her life to stay in with him? He would never, ever keep her locked away. He’d never dream of it—if anything, the thought of it made him feel rather ill.
Strolling down one of his old favorite paths, Edward imagined an evening as a wedded couple, the two of them venturing out to a dinner gathering, perhaps. To his own surprise, he smiled, thinking about it.Just the two of them...sounded good, he thought. Still in public, but they’d be in their own bubble. Around her, he felt braver. Around her, he thought that he could do most things he didn’t feel able to do alone. How was it that he felt that way? Alone, going out felt like a chore, but slightly more manageable than going somewhere with his mother and sister.
The thought of their overbearing ways made his throat close up, and he quickly cut the thought down before it could take proper root. He felt oddly calm right now; he didn’t want to ruin that. Tentatively, he reached out for the idea of going out with Rebecca again. Closing his eyes, he pictured her in a gown of deep green, on his arm, her hair prettily styled for their night out. He would wear matching attire, and ensure he looked his own part as well. Together, they would also go to the opera. Herecalled how much she had loved music as a young girl. At least he thought he did.
Did she still like it? He wondered and he surely wanted to find out.
He wanted to overcome his fear of going out. Steadying himself against the onslaught of anxiety, he didn’t cut the thought down this time, not when it concerned her. Instead, he pushed through. He imagined every detail he could think of, journeying in his mind from house to theater, and back again. His hands shook, and he balled them into fists. Everything that could go wrong went wrong in his mental scenario. Rebecca hurt herself, Edward took suddenly ill, their carriage crashed, a fire began in the theater. A myriad of terrible situations flooded him until his breath came harder.
Clenching his fists tighter, Edward forced himself to sit with the thoughts regardless.
He always ran from them, ran from everything he couldn’t face. He always buried down everything that felt liketoo much, proved to be too heavy, or too overwhelming, but… the more he avoided the worse he would get. Opening his eyes, he looked at Thornshire House. He had done the same here as in the countryside with a little more pressure to go out. Ultimately, he had buried himself in the same rooms, blocking out a life beyond the front door.
He was four and twenty. How much longer would he confine himself and shrink his life down into a box that was heavily guarded for the sake of his anxiety? He would never be able to overcome that gnawing pit in his stomach if he never faced it aside from a couple of hours at a ball here and there.
Slowly, a realization slid into Edward.
Whether she did love him or not, Rebecca deserved a husband who would show up for her, who would giveherthe freedom to show up without going to places alone. He could notlock her in a life of explaining his absences like his mother and sister had suffered through.
Heavens, he had put them through a lot. Even if he couldn’t control his anxiety and wished they were infinitely better about it, he also had to step back and realize they had made excuse after excuse for him so he did not have to face it all.
Edward sighed, his eyes tracking across the windows of his house.
It was all his. His father was never coming back, and Edward couldn’t keep squashing his life down because of it. He’d always been a nervous, quiet boy, but the anxiety had only gripped him so detrimentally ever since his father’s death. At once, life had become too short and endless, and he had given into his panic, drowning in it, because facing the storm head-on was much more fearful.
It was easier to have the certainty of drowning than to face an unknowable force.
But Edward realized he was tired of it. He wanted to be better and provide better for Rebecca.
He wanted to attend every ball, opera, dinner gathering, event, right at her side. He would never make her go anywhere alone.
“I shall be better,” he promised himself. He stood to his feet, whistling for Barnes and Benedict. He wouldn’t shut Rebecca away in Thornshire House, but he found that he no longer wanted to shut himself away, either.
***
He took that evening to shut himself away in his study, thinking. He had to decode the reason behind his anxiety. With no support, or at least not in the way he once had, he tried to work through it all. From the balls to the dinner gatherings, he’d struggled. Once one ball was out of the way, somebody wasalready speaking about another, and his anxious cycle would begin again.
The sleepless nights and lack of appetite would all drag him down into that terrible place where he overthought, over-worried and panicked endlessly. He would perform, await the approval, only for him not to even receive one full day of peace before more expectations were placed upon him.
Going further back in his life, he knew his father had wanted him to be the perfect heir. While he had been the most patient and understanding of Edward’s disposition, he had still worried and put expectations upon Edward. Edward had always been aware that his anxiety could cause his father’s disappointment in him.
Forcing himself to go to event after event had proven difficult. Some days he had done it, and he’d been exhausted. Other days he just hadn’t been able to face anybody, not even his family over breakfast. His thoughts drifted to the several invitations he’d received from Willoughby. Again, there had been an expectation there. The new Earl of Thornshire ought to be present and make himself known in society. To Edward, that was only setting himself up for further ridicule. To them, he just looked avoidant.
What if a big part of his problem was that expectation and the knowledge of being judged?
Not only did he carry the expectations of his family, of trying to please his mother and sister ever since they had written to him in the countryside, summoning him home, but he had his own pressures he heaped upon himself. Worries that he did not have enough, provide enough, speak enough. Worries that he had to marry, and how that ought to look. Always worrying over the analyzing from his family and peers.
It all tangled in his mind, manifesting as physical symptoms, until he was dragged under.
How would it feel if he did one thing entirely of his own accord?
His eyes passed over the notes he had been taking the other day onMuch Ado About Nothing.A play could be distracting enough that he could experiment with how he felt. He could choose his time and day, and he never minded going anywhere alone. If anything, it was preferable at times. He did everything for others, trying to meet what they wanted from him.
