Page 3 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
Edward sat with a sigh and took the proffered cup with a smile. “I wanted to see you, of course. I—I’m sorry that I was away for so long. I heard you have been ill.”
“Oh, that.” His father dismissed that with a wave of his hand. “The doctor says my heart is a bit weak, but once I rested more than I was going out, I started to feel a bit better. Although seeing you has made me lose ten years at least.” He grinned at him, lines forming at the corners of his hazel eyes, the eyes Edward shared with him.
“Good. I’m glad.” Edward sipped his whisky. “To be honest, it feels good to be home again.” He glanced around the comfortable, dark-coloured room, full of his father’s books and paintings.
“I’m so glad, my son. I hope you will stay long.” His head cocked to the side, and he narrowed his gaze. “Perhaps you will find yourself a bride while you are here?”
Edward gave him a weak smile before he turned his eyes to his brandy glass, watching as he swirled the brown liquid in the crystal. “No, that is not why I’ve come home. I have no plans to marry, Father. Not at this time.”
“I see. Of course.” His father nodded, looking into the fire. “Edward, you know I wish things had worked out differently in the past.”
Edward sucked in a breath, but he said nothing. The ache was still there, ever-present, and he had no interest in thinking aboutheranymore. She had caused him enough pain already.
He thought he’d banished her image from his mind, but at that moment, perhaps now that Edward was closer to her than he had been in the past few years, her face flashed before his eyes: blue-green eyes, blonde hair, lips that made a man weak at the knees.
The way she’d always known when he was upset and how she could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the room.
And then she abandoned me.
“Is there any hope of a change, Edward?” his father asked, and a surge of irritation pulsed through him.
“No, Father. It is not something I wish to discuss. I left four years ago to forget it. So, you must, too.”
He paused then, disappointed at his harsh tone, but cleared his throat and tried to sound softer. “I do not wish to speak of it any longer.”
“Of course, Edward. Then we will speak of other things. There is much gossip to catch up on from the past four years. Did you know that Lady Desdemona has run away with her husband’s valet?”
Chapter 3
The next morning, after breakfast, Arabella attempted to read in her own private sitting room. But the words only mixed together, and the room filled with sighs of her frustration. Eventually, she slammed the book shut and rose, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingertips.
She could feel a headache coming on and did not know why. Was she becoming ill? But she was never ill. However, her sleep had been fitful last night, memories and images of him coming to her mind that she thought she’d been rid of years ago. Sighing once more, Arabella began to pace, the skirts of her light pink day dress brushing the tops of her slippers.
Why am I thinking of him after all these years?
It felt foreign to think of him much more than usual. For Arabella thought she’d been able to get him out of her mind after she’d left him standing there, waiting. But it had been for the best, right?
Her father had been made happy by it, at least. She sat down with a huff and pressed her fingertips to her temples. Perhaps tomorrow night, her sleep would be better, and then she could focus again. She had to help with wedding preparations, be a proper sister-in-law, and make sure that Alvin never saw a crack in her happy façade.
“Ah, there you are,” Alvin said, bursting into her sitting room, a boyish, excited smile on his face.
Arabella silently thanked the heavens for the interruption. She shot her brother a lifted brow.
“You have been warned many a time that you cannot simply burst into a lady’s private sitting room. You must knock first.”
“Yes, yes, but I noticed you were out of sorts today, and I thought I should suggest a ride. That will cheer you up heartily, will it not?” He cracked his riding-whip on his leg, and she chuckled.
“It certainly will. I’m afraid I just didn’t sleep very well. Thinking about wedding preparations, of course. I want to be of use to the duchess in helping Jacinda on her perfect day.”
“Certainly, but you, too, must enjoy yourself. We are still in the swirl of the Season, and there are balls, soirées, card parties, and fun to be had!” He picked Arabella up from her seat and danced her around the room until she started laughing.
“Fine, fine!” she cried. “I will endeavour to remember that.”
He sat her down on her feet. “Good. So, we’re agreed? You’ll come riding with me?”
“Yes, yes.” She rolled her eyes. “Let me change into my habit.”
She rushed out of the room, changed into her favourite dark green riding habit, and then met an eager Alvin at the doorway, his eyes twinkling. Love had done wonders to his grief, it seemed, and she could only just barely stop the twinge of jealousy that came afterward.
