Page 28 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
“Yes, but outside of that.”
“Ithinkabout work.” Edna sighed, and then he sighed too. “I enjoy the theatre.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“I am not.” He opened an eye to look at her. “What? Is it so unfathomable that a man as handsome as I am could be equally cultured?”
“No,” she trilled, “I’m only surprised you can sit still long enough to make it through a show. What is your favorite play?”
“Hamlet. And that isn’t how this game works,” he corrected. Edna was so taken aback by the brilliance of his dark hair in the sun that she barely heard him when he continued, “You ask me one question, and then I you...and so forth. What doyouenjoy doing? Lest they ask as you said.”
“Well, when I’m not pretending to be betrothed to men I am otherwise uninterested in...I like sketching. And writing but mainly sketching.”
“Are you any good?”
“Does that matter?”
“Will you show me some of your work?”
“That’s three questions, My Lord. I knew you would not play by the rules.” She hadn’t meant for her retort to sound quite so enticing—to sound quite so much like something Violet might say. But it did, and Albert seemed a little disconcerted by it then terribly amused. “But yes. I will show you when we are on dry land again.” She handed him her parasol and leaned over to remove her pelisse until she caught his eyes on her. “Have you any siblings?”
Albert shook his head, looking away. “Have you?”
“No,” Edna replied. “My mother—” She cut herself off. This was a game of questions, not of overlong explanation. Albert sat up all the same, handing her back her parasol. She panicked and searched for something else to ask him. “What is your favorite color?”
“What happened to your mother? What were you going to say?”
Edna’s brow knitted, but the look in his eye told her he would not back down until he received an answer. “My mother was very poorly after she gave birth to me. They could not have any other children.”
“I had heard she died young though I did not know it had anything to do with… Well, I’m sorry.”
“Truth be told, I always say something akin to,thank you for your kindness, when others share their condolences with me. But I do not mean it. Their condolences aren’t mine to have. I hardly knew my mother.”
“Edna,” Albert said then, and she was surprised to hear her name on his lips. “Your father did not take another wife.”
“Was that a question?”
“No. But he doesn’t strike me as the sort of man to settle for a life without an heir. A male heir.”
“If you are asking why he did not remarry, I cannot say. Violet supposes he was too grief-stricken to attempt courtship again, or if not courtship, then marriage.” She brushed a wanton strand of hair behind her ear. “I know my father has many shortcomings. I know it better than anyone. But that does not mean he has a heart of stone. In fact, I think it is the tenderness of his heart that makes him so cruel sometimes.”
Albert shuffled a little closer to her. “I won’t question it if that is what you believe.” He pointed to the spot at her left. “May I?” he asked, gesturing for the blanket they had brought with them.
She handed it to him and unfolded it...before draping it across her legs. Edna looked up at him, but his gaze was impenetrable. He merely shuffled away again, as if he hadn’t even known what he had done—as if shielding her honor was part of his nature.
“It’s nice being out here, alone, when we’re not intent on murdering one another.” He hummed then began to whistle. The song was similar to that of his father’s—that the Duke had whistled on their last excursion. But Albert’s song was lighter, sweeter, and somewhat hopeful.
“Give it a minute,” Edna breathed, “and we shall be back to our usual selves.”
“You have no more questions for me?”
“I have questions beyond number.” She didn’t know why he was so intent on getting to know her, not when he was going to cast her aside when the month was up. No, that was a cruel way of putting it, and he was being anything but cruel at this moment. She wanted to know more. She wanted to see past his guard, and if there was nothing to lose… She closed her parasol and set it aside. “Have you never thought to marry?”
Albert smirked, but he didn’t move from where he lay. “Do I seem like the marrying type to you?”
“I’m not sure any menseemsuited to marriage, but they are a vital part of the institution. So,” she continued, wafting her hand about, “why has it not happened for you?”
“I told you—I think the whole thing is a charade.”
