Page 60 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
Rebecca couldn’t help the way her anguish spread through her. She backed away, troubled. “I must go to him. I do not care if he is not calm.” She thought of how benevolently he told her that she helped relax him. Was this how? Did she stave off his anger? But if so, what happened when it became Rebecca who caused his anger? She had seen how quickly he had snapped at Lady Elena, and even if that was justified due to the young lady’s comments, she was still his sister.
She fled the ballroom, followed by shocked whispers and gasps. She heard both of their names, and tears stung her eyes as she tried to block it all out. Edward had stood by her through scandal even if he was wound into it; she could not turn her back on him now. Even if she was concerned that she truly didn’t know half of Edward’s character, she had to seek him out.
But when she burst out into the front of the Reeves’ townhouse, Edward was nowhere to be seen. Her stomach dropped as she peered down the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Thornshire carriage. Everywhere was empty, and there was no sign of her betrothed.
Still troubled, she turned to seek out her own carriage, but she paused at the sight of something silver glimmering on the floor behind a potted plant. It was in the shadows, just to the right of the main door. Rebecca moved closer to look, stooping down to find the cravat Edward had been wearing that evening.
She thought of one of his flustered moments, how he either tugged at his coat sleeves or his cravat, as if both suffocated him. Tucking it into her reticule, Rebecca hastily made her leave. There was nothing inside for her now that Edward had departed.
Once she was home, in bed, having fielded her mother’s barrage of questions about the ball and how it was to be seen as a betrothed couple for the first time, Rebecca tucked the length of fabric beneath her pillow. A chill had followed her, a hollow ache, at the knowledge that he had simply left her behind.
Rebecca drifted into a dreamless, fitful sleep.
Too many questions remained but one kept recurring: was this what her married life would be like with Edward?
***
Rebecca’s hand paused above her embroidery circle when she heard the creak of footsteps in the doorway behind her. She knew it was not her father, for he had not changed his behavior and had slept in his study after a heavy night of drinking, and would likely not rouse until midday.
The steps were too heavy for her brothers, sisters, or mother, so that left one person who would simply be shown to her presence.
Edward.
Her shoulders stiffened, and she continued embroidering, content to ignore him for now.
He didn’t let their silence linger for very long.
“Rebecca.” His voice broke, hoarser than it had been the evening before. Before he had shouted at Catherine, before he had left Rebecca in the wake of his outburst. “Will you turn to look at me?”
“I do not see why I should,” she answered pettily. “After all, you were content not to look at me last night when you left me alone at the ball.”
“I know,” he admitted quietly. “I am sorry. I...I should have controlled myself better.”
Rebecca took another moment for herself before turning to face him. What awaited her was not a man with a dark anger that he shut away for the most part. She faced a ruined man, as helpless looking as he had been the day she had first seen him to discuss their betrothal.
“Edward,” she whispered. She moved closer to him, and was thankful when he didn’t step back. “Edward, I… What happened? You—you were angry. You struck Catherine.”
He cringed, his face flushing. His eyes couldn’t quite meet hers. “I had a terrible lapse in composure,” he admitted. “A moment of being too warm, of… of just...I think I had too much excitement from dancing, and I got ahead of myself.”
“I asked you not to pretend with me,” Rebecca reminded him, hurt.
“I did not come to discuss the ball,” he quickly said. “In fact, aside from my missing cravat, I would rather forget about it.”
Rebecca bit her tongue and didn’t mention she had brought it home, feigning innocence. “You have lost it?”
He nodded sharply. “I pulled it off when I left the ball. I must have dropped it on my way into the carriage. I imaginesomebody had snatched it up, perhaps sold the good material for some money.” He only paused, not looking at all offended at the idea, before he spoke again. “I actually came to invite you. I want to take you to the opera. It is my way of apologising for leaving you behind, but I did also have the tickets already. I know you love music, so I thought, perhaps, it could be a way to simply… be with one another without others approaching us. At least at the opera we are not the centers of attention.”
Edward’s small, vulnerable smile made Rebecca falter, but she was already nodding. “I will go, but I am angry with you.”
“I know you are.” He looked down regretfully. “And I… just please know that all I am doing is in an effort to get better. Sometimes that effort can spring back and strike me.”
Rebecca bit her lip, not knowing what to say to that. Lord Billy’s warnings still rang in her head, but she didn’t dare voice anything she thought. How could she, when he looked so wrecked by his own mind already?
“I will pick you up tonight,” he promised her. “I will not keep you waiting.”
With one last, lingering look, Edward ducked out of the room, leaving Rebecca standing watching him leave, her heart torn up about her future with him. As she turned back to her embroidery, she allowed herself the thrill of the night at the opera, but she could only hope that Edward did not push himself too hard to keep proving himself after every mistake he made.
Sighing, she continued weaving and threading, and found that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking of his gentle smile and how it made her heart twist.
