Page 65 of A Literary Liaison
Edwin grinned. “Just imagine it! I could have the letter printed in the papers, surprise the lady by confessing my undying love for her. Wouldn’t that be a lark?”
Eva gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Edwin, you couldn’t! Itwould be terribly cruel to toy with her emotions so!”
“Oh, come now,” Edwin said, leaning back in his chair, “it could be quite entertaining. The talk of the town, no doubt.”
The duchess cleared her throat, her disapproval evident. “I hardly think such deception is becoming of a gentleman of four and twenty, Edwin.”
All eyes turned to Edgar, awaiting his opinion on the matter. He sat with his countenance betraying nothing, though his heart raced with panic. “I believe it would be unwise to interfere in Miss Lovelace’s professional affairs. Her correspondence with Mr. Steele is a matter of public interest, not a playground for our amusement. It seems to me you have too much time on your hands, Edwin. We shall discuss your future after dinner. It is not too late to consider the military as an option.”
Edwin’s face fell. As the conversation moved on, Edgar couldn’t shake the unease that had settled over him. The thought of anyone else stepping into the role of Steele, even in jest, filled him with protective fury.
“I would like to discuss a matter of the heart,” Essie began, her voice tinged with wistful longing. “I find myself longing for a sister-in-law, Edgar. A confidante to whom I might turn for counsel, one who would offer her shoulder in times of sorrow.”
Edgar paused mid-bite, taken aback by this unexpected entreaty. His brothers, ever quick to seize an opportunity for mischief, affected exaggerated sobs and clasped their hands in mock plea.
“I, too, would welcome a sister-in-law,” Edwin added. “Preferably before your hair begins to silver, Edgar.”
The duchess cast a pointed glance at her taciturn son while deftly reducing her roast to more manageable morsels.
“Have you, perchance, a lady in mind who might prove a suitable addition to our family?” Edmund asked.
Edgar hesitated, then gestured toward his brothers. “Should youwish to enter into matrimony first, I would raise no objection.”
Eva, the youngest of his siblings, placed a hand on her heart and regarded him knowingly.
“Nay, sister, I no longer mourn for Lucia,” he assured her softly.
Eva and Essie both covered their mouths behind their hands, joyful tears pooling in their eyes.
“Edgar, whatever happened to that farmer’s daughter? Do you remember? Lily, was it?” Edwin asked, followed by, “Ow! What?”
“Think, you imbecile!” Edmund barked.
“That will be pointless since there is nothing in that brain of his,” Eva said.
“Someone tell me, or I shall make the same mistake again!” Edwin protested.
Just as Edmund was about to deal him an elbow to his side, Edgar said, “It’s all right, Edmund.” Directing his attention to Edwin, he continued, “You were away at school, so likely heard about her in bits and pieces. I do not fault you for not remembering. Her name was Lucia. She and I had an understanding, but it was not to be due to the vast differences in our stations.”
Edwin frowned, the crease between his brows deepening as he sat pensively.
Essie snickered. “You snuck down to the village at every opportunity to steal moments with her.”
Edgar sighed and leaned back in his chair, recalling the story which had lived in his mind for years. “For three glorious years, I believed we might defy the constraints of our stations. But Father…” He paused, his jaw tightening. “Father made it abundantly clear that such a union was not to be countenanced. He threatened to ruin her family if I persisted in my foolishness.”
A hush fell over the table as he reached for his wine glass.
“I am so sorry, Edgar,” Eva said gently.
“No, no, that is not whom I meant,” Edwin said at last. “Perhapsshe was a baker’s daughter. She followed you everywhere when she was a child. Do you not recall, Edgar? She was only two or three years your junior. Then, one day, I chanced upon you two in a rather compromising embrace.”
“Edwin!” The duchess’ voice snapped like a whip. “Have you no sense of propriety in the presence of your sisters?”
“We are not entirely ignorant of such matters, Mama,” Eva said.
“Speak for yourself,” Essie retorted.
“Indeed, I shall. I witnessed you with—ouch!”
