Page 44 of The Reclusive Earl's Scandal
“But...”
“I will halve your dress allowance for your next Season,” he growled, the threat sounding mild enough, but Rebecca knew firsthand how detrimental old dresses reused to cover up a sparse wardrobe could be for one’s matches. “So either you stop meddling, or you hope that you find a husband this Season.Perhaps if you spent less time scheming my life the way you want it you would have had more dances and offers.”
The harsh breath that punched out of Lady Elena made Rebecca almost pity her. But her words had been cruel, and accusatory, and if she was in a league with Catherine, who Rebecca was suspicious of starting the rumors in the first place after what she had heard at the Balkans’ ball, then Rebecca was not certain she could trust her.
In a moment, Elena stormed past her brother, not caring when her shoulder butted into him. He let the blow land before he recovered and stepped into the drawing room once Elena had disappeared.
“She dislikes me,” Rebecca said, looking at the doorway, not at him. There was a pain in her chest from the days of silence, and she was not sure which issue to address first. Her mind and heart felt full with everything she needed to say.
“She does not,” Edward tried to console her, but it was empty.
“I trusted you not to lie to me,” she said, trying to jest, but she was grateful when he had the decency to look ashamed. After a moment, Edward sighed and leaned against one of the far walls, putting too much space between them. Rebecca was not sure why she thought it wastoo muchwhen he was only her friend, or why she craved closing that space, but she did. “She told me moments before you entered the room that she dislikes me.”
Edward frowned at the floor. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and a tightness to his mouth that she was curious about, but didn’t address yet. Instead, she waited for him to speak, and when he didn’t, Rebecca spoke again.
“You two are very different,” she said gently. “Why? Why is she so full of schemes, even against you, and so full of hate towards me?”
Shoving a hand through his hair, Edward reeked of weariness and exhaustion. Rebecca tried to file away her questions of why she hadn’t been privy to see this when he had seen her at her vulnerable moment after falling into the river.
“Elena had a twin named Eloise. When they were born, they were inseparable. They grew up practically attached at the arm, never far from one another for very long. I always called them twin ravens. Ravens fly in pairs, and that was what they were. Bonded twins for life.”
Rebecca swallowed, grief already welling in her, for there was no other sibling in the Thornshire household, and she knew that.
“Eloise died when the twins were only three years old. Nobody truly knew why. A natural illness, perhaps, or an accident I do not recall, but suddenly there was only one raven left to fly, her wings clipped with grief, and my parents did not know how to console or fix any of it except with gifts and spoiling her. Elena was granted every wish, every request, excused for every poor behavior she exhibited. At first, my parents said it was just the grief, that she would overcome her childish ways—until it continued because they did not stop it when they had the chance. Now, Elena believes the world is hers to command. She is a genius who excels in chess, and we are all but her pawns.” He gave a small shrug. “I do not like it, and as the head of the family sheshouldlisten to me, but she does not. I spent too long not trying to scold her behaviour until now.”
“Why now?”
“Because she involved you.”
The confession struck Rebecca unexpectedly. “Oh.”
“And I could not let that go unchecked,” he told her.
Her courage gathered, and she feared she ought not to let it, but she had been born with her mother’s sharp tongue and her father’s boldness, so she spoke her mind. “And yet you have notspoken to me in almost a week. You have not been to visit me as you promised. I wished to speak with you before you spoke to my father about our betrothal, yet you have not visited him, either.” She paused.Not that the duke was in any fit state for company, but she did not need to mention that yet.
“You have just told Lady Elena I am to be your wife, yet you have ignored me for a week. You must understand my confusion, Edward.”
“I do,” he said quietly. “I could not visit, but I should have written a correspondence to you to assure you.” He hesitated again, his gaze dropping to the floor. His face seemed to grow even paler. “I… I have been ill.”
“Ill?” she echoed. While he did look pale she wasn’t sure what he had been ailed with. “You could have let me visit you. I would have taken you for a turn around the room.” Rebecca’s smile was faltering, thinking of him helping her through her recovery.
“It is—it is not that kind of illness,” he said. “A walk would not help. A turn around the room would have made it worse, and meeting with your father…” He broke off, and she had never heard him sound so ragged or disconnected from himself. He sounded as though his mind was a thousand miles away.
Rebecca flinched but nodded, feeling vulnerable and foolish for her jesting. “I understand.”
But Edward shook his head. “No… no, you do not, but I will explain. Not tonight, but soon.” His eyes met hers, and she saw something quite destroyed in them, something that made her want to approach him, to perhaps take his face in her hands. She squashed down those desires, fearing how intense they were. “Rebecca, I must ask. You are truly,trulycertain about marrying me? If you have any other suitor you prefer, I would ask you to consider...”
“I am certain,” she said quickly, cutting him off. “I have spent enough days hoping that every knock on the door was you to approach my father.” There was no time to speak to him of her family’s debts, but she could. She could find time before the wedding. She would have to see what her father said first before she hastily revealed the desperate circumstances of their finances. “I am ready for you to speak with my father, Edward.”
If he recalled his promise to discuss something with her that she had requested he did not show it. He only nodded.
Quietly, Rebecca asked, “areyoucertain you want to marry me?”
A moment passed where her heart beat too loudly in her ears, her blood rushing. And then he murmured, “my thoughts only remain on you and your well-being. I know what I want, even if it is a cruel, beautiful dream in its full extent. I wish to marry you, Rebecca. I wish to.”
There was still a niggle of question in her, and she didn’t know why he sounded so anguished, but Rebecca nodded, drawing near. Edward stepped back, his eyes tight, and jaw clenching. He spoke again, and when he did his voice was rather flat.
“I must attend to some business,” he said. “I want to have myself in order ahead of meeting with your father. I must prove the Thornshire wealth to him.”
