Page 52 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
She hated how matter-of-fact he spoke, as if he could distance himself from the blame. Her father’s gaze dropped before it turned back to her, ignoring her comment otherwise.
“I admit I had hoped to hold Lord Thornshire off regarding processing the dowry. I was certain a payment from an associate would have come in time for me to uphold my word after your wedding, but your betrothed wanted to assure me that there isno need for worry.” He glanced at the earl, laughing without true humor. “It is more understanding than I deserve. Rebecca, you have found a good match. I was also wrong to tell you to marry Harry Maudley.”
Because you want Edward’s money, she thought. She kept her smile in place, pleasant, and polite.
“Thank you,” she said graciously.
“I wish you both luck,” he told them, looking between the two of them. “Rebecca, I am proud of you. And Lord Thornshire, my financial troubles aside, I truly am happy to welcome you into the family.”
My family that feels like a great mess.
“Your father was a good man,” the duke said. “And I know he would have approved of this match. In turn, I give my blessing too. I think that if he could see you now, Lord Thornshire, he would be more than proud of who you have become and what you have done. He would be happy to see our families united like this.”
His voice cracked, and Rebecca looked at her father in a new light for a moment. Her bitterness banked, for his words did not sound insincere. She was too young to recall the late earl, or the friendship he’d had with her father, but she knew her father did not possess many other friends, if any. How much had the late earl’s death affected him? Had he chased grief away with his bottles of poison?
With a strained voice, Edward said, “thank you, Your Grace.”
“You may call me Dominic.” Rebecca’s father stood up. He shook Edward’s hand as if the whole thing was a transaction, a business deal to make, and Rebecca was discreetly glad that Edward looked uncomfortable to treat it as such.
Afterwards, Edward drew her into the hallway, leaving the duke to his accounts. Rebecca had given her father a touch ofsilent treatment for how unethical and careless he had been, for his lies, even if he had shown remorse. She wasn’t entirely certain she believed anything would change through that remorse, but she hadsomehope.
“And now,” Edward murmured, “you must face my family.”
“I have already done that,” she laughed.
“Not Elena. Not properly.”
“Ah.” She winced. Her mind tripped on a question;what did you mean when you told me you loved me? But it seemed he was content not to bring it up, so she swallowed her words back.
“Come for dinner tonight,” he offered. “After all, Thornshire House will be your new home soon enough. I can show you the gallery, the gardens, the music room…” He trailed off, his mouth quirking, knowing they were all things that would very much work to entice her.
“Of course, I will,” she said. “And I will be on my best behaviour around Lady Elena.”
“It is not your behaviour that ever concerns me,” he sighed, and then bowed to her. For a moment, his hand was on hers, warm and stirring something within her stomach. His thumb brushed over her skin, and her breath caught. Before the warmth could take full root in her, Edward stood up and retreated, nodding his farewell to her. Blue eyes held hers for one last second before he was gone.
In the silence, Rebecca wondered how a marriage intended only for convenience could feel so overwhelming at times, as if there was too much crammed in her heart for her to feel easily.
***
The day after, Rebecca settled her spoon on her saucer after stirring two sugars into her tea.
When she looked up, she found Lady Elena’s attention on her, her mouth pinched as if she had tasted something sour.
Rebecca gave a nervous laugh. “I like sweet things.”
Edward laughed, looking between the two of them, while the Countess of Thornshire beamed at Rebecca.
“As do I! We shall have many lovely afternoon teas once you are wed. You know, Her Grace and I used to have many afternoon teas together. I, unfortunately, withdrew from them greatly when I lost my husband, but I do miss such things. Perhaps the four of us could have a get-together.”
“Four?” Lady Elena asked. “I do hope you are not counting me as one.”
“Well, if you had been left out then we would not have heard the end of it,” Edward muttered, as if he didn’t mean for his sister to hear, but didn’t mind if she did. The young lady’s intimidating stare caught on him instead, a hiss slipping through her teeth.
“I would like that,” Rebecca said. “For the four of us.”
“Three,” Lady Elena corrected rudely. “I do not wish to be involved in such things.”
“Elena.” Edward’s voice came out as a warning, low and composed, yet it was clear that he would not be listened to. The more Rebecca looked at Lady Elena the more she saw her as she was: a girl who had known she was part of a pair, a raven without her twin, as Edward had said. She looked as though she tried to keep her chin up, keep her strength about her, but her mouth twitched with distaste.
