Chapter 36
Edward knew he should not have followed Calliope out into the garden.
His mother had taught him from an early age that eavesdropping was not an admirable quality, nor did it aid in the health of one’s relationships.
He didn’t listen then, of course, because he had too many chances to play espionage with the tenant children as they spied on their enemies (the adults), but that was all fun and games and only played in the village as people went about their normal business dealings, so that the most exciting information they ever uncovered was that Mrs. Jakes bought three bags of flour one week instead of her usual two.
There was so much more at stake now, with his heart and the future of Whitefawn on the line, and even though his mother’s admonition echoed through his mind as he hid in the shadows and watched Calliope sit next to Tommy at the fountain, the guilt was not enough to send him away.
He had to know where he stood with her.
And where Tommy stood as well.
Edward’s heartbeat increased with every word Tommy uttered, stopping completely at his proposal.
Edward waited for Calliope’s response.
And waited.
Please say no, he thought. Please.
But she didn’t say no.
She said she’d think about it.
And something inside Edward began to break.
He didn’t need to hear anymore. Didn’t need to stay and watch them sitting together, her head on his shoulder, silently communicating in their own special language and making Edward feel the strangest sensation that he was somehow slipping away. A ghost eavesdropping on the living.
He walked to his study without intention.
Picked up a stack of papers. Tried to make out the words.
But they slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, his mind returning again and again to the garden, wondering if Calliope had left yet, or if she’d turned to Tommy.
If he had cradled her head in his hands.
If he were now kissing her as Edward had done, and if Calliope would find Edward’s love for her wanting by comparison.
He threw his papers back onto the desk and slumped into his chair.
“You know,” Uncle Aesop declared, appearing at the door, “you’ll never win Miss Hart’s affections if you let that smarmy American dash off with her every chance he gets.”
“I thought you liked that smarmy American,” Edward replied as Aesop crossed the room to the side table.
Edward could not tell if Aesop was simply ignoring this observation or if he couldn’t hear it due to his trumpet hanging limply at his side. Either way, his great-uncle inspected the crystal decanters upon the side table’s surface without uttering a reply.
“Did you see them in the garden?” Edward asked, louder this time.
Aesop nodded. “I did not think it a coincidence that both would disappear at the same time, and you along with them, so I followed. Couldn’t hear a blasted thing they were saying, but it’s clear the boy loves her.” He glanced at Edward. “It’s clear you do, as well.”
Edward swallowed. “Yes.”
“Then fight for her.”
Edward scoffed. “You make it sound so simple.”
“It is.” Aesop uncorked the whisky. “The problem is you Englishmen have been comfortable for far too long. Something gives you the least bit of resistance and you give in, just like that.”
“It’s not about resistance,” Edward replied. “That man has enough capital to give her everything she could ever possibly want, including a life in New York among her friends. What can I give her except a crumbling estate and a debt she must pay?”
“I am not one to get romantic, my boy,” Aesop told him as he poured, “but would it be trite of me to say you can give her your heart?”
“Much good that’ll do her. It hasn’t been working properly for years.”
Aesop nearly fumbled his whisky getting his trumpet up in time to hear Edward’s response. “In the future, can you wait until I’m ready before you speak so quietly?”
“Sorry, Uncle,” he replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the front of the desk.
Aesop poured one more glass and handed it to Edward.
“Now then, as for your heart,” his uncle said. “If it didn’t work properly, you wouldn’t care half as much as you do about anything, least of all Miss Hart.”
“I wonder,” Edward mused. “Ever since Father died, I feel as though I am only half the person I used to be, and not the fun half, either.”
“Except when you’re around her.”
Edward nodded. “Except when I’m around her.”
A moment of silence passed as they sipped their drinks.
“Well, son.” Aesop sighed. “The only advice I can give you is, if you don’t fight for her, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
“And how do you suggest I fight for her?”
Aesop clinked his glass against Edward’s, smiling. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Edward didn’t see Calliope the next morning.
He’d come down to breakfast to discover she had taken her mother and Tommy into the village for their meal and to tour the marketplace.
They didn’t return home until after luncheon, at which time they took a walk across the grounds which Edward couldn’t join due to affairs with the estate, and by the time he was finished, they’d already returned to their rooms to prepare for the evening’s festivities.
The desire to take Calliope aside, to ask her to choose him over Tommy, to make Whitefawn and Edward’s heart her home, was so strong, so pervasive, he could hardly sit still.
He had to find a moment alone with her.
Unfortunately, that moment would not happen on the way to the Liggenbaum Ball, as their party divided into two cars, with Bethilda grabbing Edward’s arm and dragging him into hers alongside Tilly and Aesop before he could think of a proper excuse for why he should go into the other car instead.
It was probably for the best, however, for from the moment Edward had glimpsed Calliope descending the staircase, dressed in a sapphire gown that had transformed her into a sea fairy, as if the ocean itself had wrapped around her to allow her this one precious night on land before sending her back home, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
And as he was not about to prompt her into making a decision in front of an audience, it was better he stay away until they could find a moment of privacy, lest his mouth run away from him.
Even once they arrived at their destination and firmly ensconced themselves within the boisterous crowd, Edward could not keep his attentions fixed on anyone else, although it was not the gown that made Calliope so impossible to ignore, nor the way her hair had been swept into a fashionable bun atop her head, a braid securing it and tendrils escaping to frame her face and brush her exposed neckline.
It was the way she greeted every person as though she were truly happy to make their acquaintance, her countenance beaming as though the sun itself attended the party through her.
It was not difficult to ascertain where this joy was coming from.
Unlike the ball his mother had hosted where he and Calliope had first met, which had been populated by members of the peerage, the Liggenbaum dance was a lively mixture of local aristocrats, middle-class merchants, tenant farmers, and everyone else who called their little corner of Hampshire home.
The music was lively as guests reeled and jigged their way through country dances.
Uncertain of the steps, Calliope still seemed to enjoy watching the lines of partners, clapping her hands in time to the music.
What broke his heart was that he was not the one enjoying it with her. That honor belonged to Mr. Daily, who whispered in her ear and made her laugh and caused the light within her to shine even brighter, so that every single person in the room had become completely besotted by her.
It was only when she looked Edward’s way that a sadness drifted over her like a cloud, shrouding her light.
“If you don’t fight for her, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”
He knew his uncle had spoken the truth, but what was he to do? How could he convince Calliope to give up everything for him? His plan of making her fall in love with Whitefawn had been feeble from the beginning, and now he had the charms of Mr. Daily to compete with on top of it.
But what about the kisses you shared? Surely those meant as much to her as they did to you?
Maybe they did, but whatever she felt, it wasn’t enough to reject Tommy’s proposal last night.
All he could do was find a moment alone with her, to declare once more his undying love and hope it would be enough, but how could he do that when, every time he caught her eye, she looked away and fixated her gaze on Mr. Daily instead?
Was that her way of letting him know their time together was coming to an end?
Had he lost already?