Page 58 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
They were already betrothed—was that not enough?
“I feel the same,” she told him quietly, her smile gentle. “I believe you are the only man in this room I would not pretend to be somebody else for.” Her smile turned mischievous, and hebraced himself. “Although I fear our closeness is garnering some glares from the older dowagers that huddle in the corner like aging geese waiting to be…” She grimaced. “Well.”
Edward stifled a laugh, turning his face away as he grinned. He easily stepped them back into the dance. “Thank you, Rebecca.”
Her face slacked into something like surprise. “Whatever for?”
“Just… simply being you. Being here, with me.”
All remainders of her teasing faded, leaving a surprised, yet clearly complimented lady. His future wife. The mere thought made his stomach jump, but he smiled back at her and guided her through the remainder of their dance.
The night passed in a similarly comfortable way. Even when they left the ballroom and retreated to the refreshments table, he found out that Rebecca favored pink-flavored things. Raspberries, strawberries, and part of him filed that knowledge away.
Perhaps I can take her on a picnic, he thought, watching her pluck a strawberry from a bowl of fruit offered out. After a moment of thought, she dropped it into her wine glass purposefully, and he stifled a laugh. She did the same with another glass and handed it to him.
“What does it do?” He frowned down at the fruit bobbing on the surface.
“I tell myself it adds to the flavor,” Rebecca told him. “In truth, I do not really know.”
Together, they laughed harder, and yet when he sipped the drink he did swear he could taste the hint of strawberry. Mercifully, Lady Catherine didn’t approach him, but she did look on in scorn. She stood by Elena, who also fixed Edward with her most scathing glare. He tried to ignore them both. He wasin a bubble, and he was finally relaxed. He couldn’t let anything destroy it.
“Lord Thornshire!”
Edward stiffened immediately. Disappointment sank through him as he felt his comfort slip away just as he had begun to find it. He knew the voice that called out to him, and that sinking feeling turned harder, digging into him.
Finally, he looked up to find Lord Billy ambling over, his grin wide and charming. To most, he looked pleasant. To Edward, it was a dog that nuzzled a hand before biting it. He didn’t trust the other lord, and even if enough years had passed since their childhood days, Edward did not think Billy had changed at all. He had no reason to, for he saw no issue with his behavior.
“Lady Rebecca,” Billy continued, drawling his words. “It is good to see you back on your feet. A week of bed rest was a long time. Surely in one of those endless days you could have answered my letter, or thanked me for my most thoughtful gift.”
Rebecca’s laugh was quick to sound, and Edward stopped himself from curling his lip in disgust. Not at her, but at the fact that Billy was so charming it was easy to paint over his former behavior.
“You jest, Lord Billy, surely,” she answered, keeping her voice friendly. “I could barely lift my own glass of water, let alone have ink, a pen, and paper to formulate a letter.”
Edward’s throat was closing in panic. How easily she spoke with him, how easily she had received a gift and joked about it. He had not known Billy had gifted her anything. Was there a reason she had not mentioned it? His thoughts were foolish and insecure, and he tried to tamper them down, but they only flared brighter when Billy stepped forward.
“You may thank me now, then,” he offered, “with a dance.”
Rebecca paused. She glanced at Edward, her brow pinched. Was she looking for permission?Please do not put me in charge of saying yes or no,he thought, for he could not control her in such a way. It was cruel. But it was also cruel to privately hope she would saynowhile expecting her to sayyes.
Clearly, Billy had the same question, and he laughed.
“Oh, forgive me.” He did not sound very apologetic at all. “I forgot you have become betrothed to LordEdiothere.”
“Lord Billy, please do not speak to Lord Thornshire like that,” Rebecca said, her voice subdued and polite, not at all the firm countering he knew her to have at times.
“We are all grown up. I am certain he can handle some light jesting. So,Ediot, what will it be? Will you let me take your bride for a dance before she is snatched away into your estates, never to see the light of a gathering ever again? Tell me, have you made her a prison room just like your own? An isolated bride for an isolated, lonely earl who does not ever leave...”
Edward didn’t waste another moment listening to the ridicule. He could hardly hear Rebecca’s scolding over his own pounding heart as he shoved Billy aside, fought his way through the crowd who had gathered to overhear the ridicule. All he served to be was a spectacle. Everybody loved to point and laugh at the anxious earl who could not leave his house comfortably. He had grown up, but sometimes he was still that nervous boy his father had found in the garden, trying not to get swallowed up by a storm.
He thought he muttered out an excuse to leave, but he couldn’t remember, and then suddenly Lady Catherine was in his vision. She appeared so suddenly he almost crashed into her. He avoided her gaze and tried to veer around to grasp the banister of the stairs, to leave, to be free, to get some air in his lungs.
“Lord Thornshire,” Lady Catherine said, stopping him with a snatch of his coat.
Edward wrenched back. Gasps skittered around him, and he cringed.
“Not—not now, Lady Catherine, I must leave,” he muttered. “Please, excuse me. Goodnight.” His desperation cracked his voice, and he tried to move past her again, but she was there and insistent, andHeavens, he could not breathe.
His mind swirled with panic and the need to escape. He felt as though he wore ten layers of clothing in the height of summer.
