Chapter 30
F or the rest of the day, Edward avoided every living soul, except for a couple of deer and a fox he’d disturbed whilst he’d been cutting and stacking enough firewood to last a good couple of weeks.
The work was hard, and his muscles ached with exhaustion, but it was exactly what he needed to clear his mind and unwind his frustrations.
He knew he’d have to clear things up with Scarlett. He’d behaved like an absolute dick and hurt her for no justified reason. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but words and emotions, especially words about emotions, rarely came easy to him.
As he showered and dressed, he rehearsed various speeches in his head, but none felt like a sufficient apology, and then the realisation dawned on him– what if she didn’t forgive him? What if this time he’d gone too far? The idea made him feel nauseous.
Food was also on his mind. Dried and dressed by six, he knew dinner wasn’t until eight, but he figured Mrs Wilson would have a snack for him.
After that, he’d have to find Scarlett, even if it meant going to the stables.
He no longer cared what anyone else thought, but he cared what Scarlett was thinking and feeling.
God, I wish I was better at this.
He walked into the kitchen, relieved the boys hadn’t arrived for their shifts yet. He couldn’t be arsed facing more people than was absolutely necessary at this point.
“Evening, Mrs Wilson,” he said, doing his usual lingering in the doorway.
Mrs Wilson turned and smiled at him. “Good evening, sir. How are you?”
“Hungry. Is there anything I could grab and head out with?” Edward asked, looking around the kitchen for options.
“Of course. How about some soup?” Mrs Wilson offered. “Or I could quickly rustle up a ham and tomato sandwich.”
“A sandwich would be good, thanks.” Edward nodded.
“Would you like me to bring it to you?”
Edward thought for a moment. “I’ll wait and take it with me.”
Mrs Wilson nodded and opened the fridge, bringing out a large ham joint and placing it on the worktop. Edward briefly considered just taking that with him to gnaw on and the image of him chomping on it like a caveman almost made him smile.
“Do you know where Scarlett is? Has she finished for the day?” he asked in the most nonchalant way he could muster.
Mrs Wilson looked up and paused her slicing of the ham.
“Oh, were you not aware? Ms Hope took ill earlier today. I believe she headed home around two-ish.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Edward dismissed the weird use of Scarlett’s surname and did his best to keep his voice level.
“Couldn’t tell you, I’m afraid,” Mrs Wilson replied, continuing with the sandwich. “Miss Ana?se’s friend, her name keeps slipping my mind—”
“Miranda?” He didn’t care a jot about Ana?se’s companion, but he cared about what was wrong with Scarlett.
“Aye, of course– Miranda. She informed me that Scarlett had become unwell and requested a hot water bottle for Miss Ana?se, who also seems to be under the weather. I hope they’re not all coming down with something.
” Mrs Wilson shook her head, continuing to busy herself.
“And then they went off to the shops. Miranda and young Leonard, that is.”
Edward took the sandwich on a plate offered by Mrs Wilson. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you want anything else?”
Edward shook his head. “No, thanks.”
He left the kitchen, unsure of his next move.
He’d take his sandwich to his office and message Scarlett, or should he phone her?
She’d seemed fine earlier, health-wise anyway.
Was it because of what had happened? He really hoped not.
Shutting his office door behind him, he took out his mobile. He saw another message from Briege.
Fucking relentless.
Ignoring Briege, he typed a message to Scarlett instead.
Edward: I’m really sorry about earlier.
He saw Scarlett come online and watched the two ticks turn blue, but even after several seconds passed, she didn’t reply and then disappeared.
Fuck.
His stomach growled. He needed to eat. Then he would call her. Or find her. Maybe he’d just go find her.
After he’d finished his sandwich, he looked at his phone again. Still no reply.
Fuck’s sake.
He stood and brushed the crumbs from his jeans; to the stables he would go then.
He hoped June wouldn’t interfere, but she was Scarlett’s mother first, his employee second, and he’d need to be prepared for a potential pushback; he had no idea what Scarlett had told her. Probably that he was an absolute arse, which was a perfectly fair summary of him at present.
The house was still quiet, and he made it outside and all the way to the entrance of the stables with no interruption.
He trudged up the stairs to the big red door at the top, somewhere he hadn’t been for a long while, and certainly not since Scarlett had arrived at Haddon House.
He paused for a long while without knocking, still not sure what to do or what to say once he did.
Christ, this is awkward.
His brow began to sweat and the confidence he thought he had was dissipating fast. Then, without warning, the door swung open, revealing Andrzej with nothing but a towel around his waist, looking ripped, his skin damp from a shower.
“Sir?” Andrzej’s face flushed with embarrassment and confusion. “I thought I heard something, but– we weren’t expecting anyone… or you. Is everything okay?”
Edward pulled his hand over his face, not knowing how to explain himself. There was too much to process and nothing was connecting for him. To make matters worse, June came into the hallway drying her hands on a tea towel, shock and surprise in her eyes.
“Sir?” Her voice was an octave higher than usual.
“I was looking for Scarlett.” Edward finally formed a coherent sentence. “I heard she was unwell today?”
June and Andrzej looked at each other. Eventually, June sighed, taking control of the situation.
Thank God.
“You’ll catch your death here, Andrzej. Go get dressed. Dinner is almost ready.”
Andrzej smiled sheepishly at Edward and shrugged his shoulders. “I will do as I’m told.”
Edward nodded, still unsure what to make of the entire situation.
“Would you like to come in?” June asked him, stepping aside, making it difficult for him to refuse without seeming rude.
He nodded again, taking in the aesthetically pleasing decor and the general warmth of the place.
June had made it a lovely home, and the food smelled amazing.
He glanced through the doorway of the spare bedroom, which was dark, the bed empty.
Where is she?
Edward walked into the lounge and June signalled for him to sit on the sofa, which he did.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude,” Edward told her, rubbing the back of his neck.
“That’s okay.” June sat in the chair across from him. “As you can see, she’s not here.”
Edward looked at her. A thousand questions were swimming around his head. Had she left? Was she coming back? And why was Andrzej there, showering and half naked, getting ready for dinner?
“She’s at the main house,” she told him, but he could tell there was more.
“Mrs Wilson told me she’d gone home ill… Is she better then?”
June seemed to be trying to find the right words before she finally took a deep breath and spoke again.
“No, she is not. Miranda came by earlier to advise that Scarlett was unwell, and Ana?se was taking care of her and keeping her at the main house. It’s nothing serious, but she felt it was best for her not to come back to the stables this evening. ” June watched Edward closely.
Nothing was making any sense, though. Wasn’t Ana?se the one who was sick, too? And why on earth would she, of all God’s creatures, be taking care of Scarlett? And why had Miranda and Leonard gone to the shops?
What the fuck is going on?
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, I’ll go and—”
June raised her hand. “Maybe just leave her for now.”
“What do you mean?” Edward snapped, immediately regretting his tone.
She raised her eyebrow as only a mother knew how. “Just give her some space, Edward.”
A mother first and foremost.
His shoulders slumped, and he nodded, feeling reprimanded and dejected.
“She’ll be fine, she just needs a minute, okay?”
Edward stood suddenly, making June startle. “Sorry again. Enjoy your dinner.”
He didn’t wait for June to see him out and rushed out of the apartment, down the stairs, and into the damp evening air, where he felt he could breathe again. He appreciated June meant well, but he needed answers, and he needed them now.
Storming back into the house, Edward launched himself up the stairs, two steps at a time, until he stood outside his mother’s old room, which he knew Ana?se was occupying.
He still wasn’t sure why she wasn’t sharing a room with Leonard, but put it down to her virtue and traditions, as opposed to those of his brother.
Now standing outside, he didn’t actually know what to do, much like how he felt standing outside the Hope residence, so without overthinking it, he simply knocked on the door with more force than he intended.
Edward could hear muffled voices through the door, followed by footsteps approaching. The door opened and Ana?se stood before him, looking quite well.
“Sorry for the intrusion. I heard Scarlett is unwell, and you’ve been caring for her.” Edward tried to see behind her into the room.
“Is there a question in there somewhere, Edward?” Ana?se straightened, blocking his view, as he continued to steal glances behind her.
“I’d like to see her… please.” Edward noticed for the first time how tall she was; she was level with him, if not a little taller.
“Still not much of a question, darlin’.”
“Ana?se, don’t play games with me. Is she there– in the bathroom?” He was losing his patience. “I want to know she’s okay.”
“She’s with me. She’s not feeling her best, but all is well. There, you happy?”
Edward could feel the heat of his temper rising to his temples. “No, I am not happy, Ana?se. I would like to speak to her– I want to know what’s wrong.”
Ana?se briefly frowned, and he wasn’t sure if it was in sympathy for him or pity, but as quickly as it appeared, a smile took its place, infuriating him even further.
“She’s okay, Edward. Just give her a little space. I’ll tell her you called for her,” she told him, her saccharine Southern drawl stronger than usual. She then gave him a nod as a goodbye and closed the door firmly in his face. He heard the lock turn.
He wanted to tear the door, its frame, and the entire house down around them.
What the fuck!
Edward knew he needed to calm down, but not as much as he needed to see and talk to Scarlett.
He couldn’t find any rational reason why everyone was being so secretive, and it was driving him insane.
He growled and banged his fist against the door in frustration before storming back downstairs to his rooms, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Fuck them all. I’m going to bed.
After grabbing his almost empty bottle of Armagnac, that was exactly what he did.