Chapter 41
TWO WEEKS LATER
Idon’t know when I became so certain of my own defeat, but maybe I always knew, deep down, that I never stood a chance against Edwina. Not even my actor’s charm combined with my sister’s lovely words can hold a candle to Edwina’s genuine passion. She’s the full package. She puts her heart and soul into her work, and her readers respond in a way I don’t think they ever will to me.
So it’s no surprise when Edwina strolls into Barley and Mint Public House with an enormous grin on her face. Monty, Daphne, and I are already waiting for her at one of the booths. Monty and I rise from our seats as she approaches, and Daphne hops onto the table in her pine marten form.
Edwina trembles from head to toe. “I got it. I got the contract.”
I pull her into my arms at once. “Congratulations, love. You fucking deserve it.”
There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t mean every word.
She does deserve it. She deserves the world.
Today was our post-tour meeting with Mr. Fletcher at Fletcher-Wilson’s headquarters in the Earthen Court, located just down the street from the pub. Even though the sales for A Portrait of June, Etched in Solace were massive during the tour, I knew he wasn’t going to offer me the contract. Even if he did, I was prepared to reject it unless subsequent books were published solely under Cassie’s name. I’m not certain that’s the right choice. Maybe my sister is happy with our arrangement. Maybe she even claims it’s what she wants. But what she deserves is recognition for her work. She deserves to be valued without my face stamped over her beautiful creativity.
Whatever the case, my career as a poet is over. I want to act. I want to return to the stage. Edwina has given me that courage. That burning ambition. A renewed competitive drive.
Maybe this time I’ll aim for roles I’m better suited for.
“I’m so happy for you,” Daphne says as Edwina and I break apart. “I urged Mr. Fletcher to pick you during my tour review—no offense.” She says the last part to me.
“None taken.”
“Oh, I think we were all rooting for Edwina,” Monty says, clapping his hands. “I was on William’s side for an entirely other purpose. Speaking of, how would you rate my matchmaking skills?”
Edwina arches a brow. “Matchmaker? You’re going to try to take credit for our relationship?”
Monty shrugs. “I’m building my portfolio.”
“What is with you and matchmaking?” Daphne says.
“Love is torture,” Monty says, “and I like torturing people.”
“There is one problem,” Edwina says, looking at me sidelong. My stomach falls, but I can already guess what she’s about to say. “It’s going to take six months for Mr. Fletcher to secure my citizenship. I’ll have to return home in a couple of weeks when my visitor’s pass expires.”
I squeeze her hand in a gesture of comfort. “Will you be able to keep your apartment in the meantime? Or will you stay with your parents?”
“I’ll stay with my parents. They’ll let me live at the estate without pressuring me to marry, so long as I assure them my career is secure. Besides, I want to spend time with them before I move. I won’t get to see them as often anymore.”
“And you’re sure you want this?” Even she must hear the unevenness in my tone. “To live here?”
She faces me with a serious expression. “With all my heart.”
Her words convey so much more than surface level. She wants this. Living here. Us. She’ll come back.
I may worry every minute she’s gone, fearing something might befall her while we’re apart, but I need to learn to let go. To stop feeling so responsible for those I love.
“We’ll write,” she says, and this time she’s the one offering the reassuring squeeze to my palm. “I’ll write until you’re sick of me.”
“That will never happen.”
Her lips quirk with mischief. “I’ll write dirty poetry and send you naughty drawings.”
Daphne raises a paw. “Send some to me too! Tide me over until your next book comes out.”
Monty snorts a laugh and saunters toward the bar. “I’ll get everyone some drinks.”
Daphne darts after him, leaving me and Edwina momentarily alone.
“I really am happy for you,” I say, framing her shoulders with my hands.
“I know you are. But there’s something I want to say. Or…offer. I want to help pay for Cassie’s education.” At my frown, she rushes to add, “At least a semester. I want to help her, and I won’t take no for an answer unless it’s straight from her.”
My first instinct is to refuse, to tell her she doesn’t need to spend her hard-earned advance on us, just because I lost the contract. But I know her desires aren’t out of a sense of pity or charity. Edwina is no longer an outsider when it comes to me and Cassie. Every day, our relationship grows. Every day, we work to build something of substance. Something that makes Edwina more than a lover.
Someday, whether she opens to the idea of matrimony or we pave our own way as a committed couple, she’s going to be family. Maybe she already is.
I breathe out a shaky sigh. “All right.”
Her expression brightens. “You’re not going to fight me on this?”
“No,” I say, pressing my lips to hers. “You’ve won this round.”
She grins, her eyes crinkling behind her lenses, and I think I just fell in love with her all over again.
“Drinks,” Monty says, setting a tray upon our table. As we settle into the booth, Monty takes his usual glass of water and Daphne predictably reaches for the cordial and a tiny cup. I select a glass of wine while Edwina reaches for a tumbler filled with blue liquid—indigo on the bottom, pastel on the top.
I nearly choke on my wine. “That’s Cloud Dive,” I rush to say.
Edwina pauses, then narrows her eyes at Monty.
He shrugs, leaning back in his seat while taking a long drag of his cigarillo, a crooked smile on his face. “I thought you might want to reminisce. We all had such a good time that first night, didn’t we?”
Edwina casts a longing glance at the libation. “I admit, it was really fun.”
“Just don’t drink more than one,” Monty says. “Switch to regular wine after.”
“Cordial is nice,” Daphne says, raising her little cup.
Edwina looks at me, and the temptation is clear on her face. “I kind of want to try it again. Maybe if I drink in moderation I’ll get a truly brilliant idea for my book this time.”
I level a scowl at her. “Do you never learn? Don’t do it.”
Her grin turns devious. “Do you never learn, love of mine? Never dare me not to do something.”
“That wasn’t a dare?—”
But already, she’s taken the glass and brought its contents to her lips. In a matter of minutes, she’s chatting incessantly to Daphne, boasting about how brilliant she was at her meeting with Mr. Fletcher.
I cut a lighthearted glare at Monty across the table. “She’s going to be incredibly annoying tonight, thanks to you.”
“Yes,” Monty says with a wink, “but you love her, even when she’s annoying.”
I heave a sigh and angle my body toward my belligerent, mischievous, beautiful beloved. “I really do.”