CHAPTER FOUR
ONE THING EDWARD was excellent at was performing his duties as viscount. Much of the time, the work didn’t require him getting out of a chair, which allowed him to rest and gain back his strength. The more he rested, the easier it was to perform more strenuous tasks.
And the more he rested…the easier it would be to search Edilann for the masked woman. After how terrible the last incident was, he couldn’t risk another outing until he recovered from the weakness plaguing his body and the dizziness in his mind. Sometimes recovery took days. Other times weeks.
A long sigh escaped him as he pushed his work aside in favor of pulling out the brown lock of hair from his vest pocket. He reverently stroked the hair with a finger, an ache of sadness welling within his heart.
What if he ended up finding her? Could she accept him? Condition and all? What if his search only broke his heart more? Was it worth the risk?
Before he managed to answer his own question, Clara strutted by in a whoosh of silky blue skirts. She wore a hat over her coiffed black hair and a white fur wrap over her shoulders. Like always, she didn’t spare a glance for him when she was often in such a hurry to exit the house without him inquiring of her.
But he inquired, anyway.
“Where are you headed?”
Clara waved away his question with a flick of her hand. “Nowhere important.”
He pushed himself out of his chair and followed, his shoes slapping against the marble floors in his haste. “Where?”
“Just a small dinner party. Nothing extravagant.”
“I’m coming, too.”
But just as he reached for a coat hanging near the door, she turned to him with a pitying look in blue eyes similar to his own. “I already responded to the invitation, reserving only one seat. I thought you were too sick to attend, you see. Perhaps next time might be a better opportunity.”
Without another word, Clara exited the estate and slammed the door resoundingly behind her.
For a long few moments, Edward stared at the door closed between him and the freedom of the outside world. Seven entire miserable weeks had passed since the masquerade. Seven! And he was no closer to finding his mystery woman.
Anger coursed through his veins as he pushed the drapes aside to watch as his sister’s carriage disappeared into the night, smooth and quick as if she had planned to slight him all along. What must other members of his circle think of him?
“Cedric,” Edward said in a quiet, dangerous tone. His servant glanced up from his book in the corner of the room. If he couldn’t go to events due to his sister’s gatekeeping, then he would bring everyone to him. “Ready a carriage. We’re going to see a friend.”
“I am entirely offended you thought I would be home on a night such as this!” Lord Barnaby Mavis scoffed as he poured himself a glass of water and downed it in a single gulp.
Edward raised an eyebrow, glancing down at his friend’s attire. He wore a loose shirt over breeches, a robe tied around his clothing as if he’d only recently woken from a nap.
“You’re a newly wedded man.” He shrugged and took the water glass Barnaby offered him. “Don’t all of you usually hunker down with your wives for the first year? Of course , I thought you’d be home rather than peacocking about the streets.”
Barnaby scoffed again as he lifted a finger from his glass to point at him. “Just you wait. Your turn will arrive soon enough.”
Melancholy sank to the bottom of his stomach at the thought. Edilann law stated that nobility needed to be married by the age of twenty-four, and he would turn twenty-four at the end of the year. Honestly, his bachelordom wasn’t for lack of trying. Courting was simply…difficult for him.
He turned his attention away to take in the lavish room. Thick, velvety drapes. A fire crackling in the hearth. Refreshments covering one of the tables on the opposite side of the room.
He picked up a honey cake from a silver platter and stood in front of the warm fire. “I need your help.”
“Oh?” Barnaby raised an eyebrow, the sleep suddenly gone and replaced by intrigue. “What can I do for you that you can’t accomplish yourself?”
What his friend really meant was that they were both titled, Barnaby an earl and him a viscount. They were wealthy with plenty of connections. But his friend didn’t truly understand his dire circumstances because he tried his best to hide his condition. He’d lost so many people already. He refused to lose his friends, too.
“I need help finding someone. My sister has…made things difficult.”
His friend snorted. “Doesn’t approve of the lady, does she? And don’t try to protest. This has lady friend written all over it.”
“Well…actually, I don’t know her name. She has brown hair. Dark brown eyes. A bit of a sultry look around her lips.”
With a quirk of his mouth, Barnaby set his glass down and crossed his ankle over his knee before brushing the blond sweep of his hair out of his eyes. “You described at least twelve dozen women of my acquaintance.”
“But…she’s heart-stoppingly beautiful. A few freckles over her face. She’s a bit mischievous and headstrong. Probably doesn’t quite fit the mold of women in our society.”
Barnaby scratched his chin. Rather than mocking him for his fixation on this woman, he genuinely seemed like he wanted to help. “You narrowed down the choices, most definitely. It’s a start.” He clapped his hands on his knees. “Let’s do for you what my mother did for me. She hosted a ball to draw Ivette out before we were reunited. We shall do the same for you.”
Oh, so many things were wrong with the idea. Could he risk it?
But as he recalled the mystery woman’s confidence and rebellious demeanor, he realized he must be brave. Just one little act of rebellion of his own.
“Clara would never allow it.”
His friend laughed and shook his head. “You are a viscount, Edward. You can do as you please. But…” He leaned forward and leveled him with a stare. “If we send out the invitations behind her back, she either has to publicly apologize for canceling the event, which would cause scandal and great embarrassment, or go out of her way to make it happen. I don’t doubt she’ll do the latter.”
“You are devious.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Barnaby’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “She’ll never find out until it’s too late.”
A seed of hope planted in his heart. “I need to borrow stationery. A lot of it.”
The barn door crashed open, startling the animals inside into a frenzy. Edward’s heart gave an enormous start as he reeled backward off the stool he stood on, barely catching himself on the smooth wooden door leading to his horse’s stall.
But then his stomach twisted with dread when he faced the fury in Clara’s face, her body a silhouette against the backdrop of the early morning sunshine behind her.
“Everyone out!” she shouted.
Cedric and the stable boy scrambled for the exit in a shuffle of desperate feet. Edward gauged the distance between his sister and the safety of escape. Finding no way out of the entrapment, he backed up until his shoulders brushed against the stall. Walnut nibbled on his clothing as if trying to offer comfort and encouragement.
“You did this behind my back?” She waved an invitation wildly in the air with a white-gloved hand, and as she stepped farther into the stables, he realized she wore nice clothing as if she’d gone out to see a friend. “Everyone knew about it before I did. You made me a fool!”
His sister moved too quickly to dodge. Her hand struck him across the cheek. Pain flared in his face. He lowered his gaze to the ground. When he found it difficult to form a coherent reply, she struck him again and again before shoving his shoulders and causing his head to hit the stall behind him.
The horse whinnied with agitation, pacing back and forth, back and forth.
Injustice and self-preservation reared within him, but he remained still and unmoving. Gentlemen did not hit back. He would not lower himself to what he suspected Clara’s husband had done to her before leaving his family behind.
“You are nothing !” Clara hissed. “You won’t live much longer. The doctor has confirmed it. So, step back and let me handle estate matters. It will be my responsibility when you are gone, anyway.”
Clara straightened her clothing and glared as she gestured to his raw cheek. “This is your fault. If you would stop sneaking out and doing things behind my back, I wouldn’t have to punish you.”
And then she spun on her heel, exiting the stables in a flurry of skirts, leaving silence in her wake.
A numbness crawled up Edward’s legs and into his chest as he forced himself to feel nothing. Not sadness or regret. Just…nothing.
He slipped into Walnut’s stall and began brushing the brown mare down, his movement remaining steady even as he heard hesitant footsteps approaching.
“Eddie?” Cedric asked in a quiet, worried tone.
Edward shifted his body so the horse’s neck hid his face, blazing on one side. This wasn’t the first time Clara had struck him, and Cedric knew it. But what could a servant do to intervene in family affairs? At best, he would be fired. And despite how Edward threatened to sack him on occasion, he couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving. Because what would he have left if his only friend at the estate was gone?
“Wait outside,” he finally managed in a raspy tone. “Please.”
After a few more seconds of hesitation, Cedric did as he asked, leaving him alone in the stables.
At least, he thought he was alone before he caught faint sniffling in another stall. His eyebrows drew together, and slowly, he exited his stall and approached another, opening the door to find his nephew, James, huddled in the corner, tears trailing from amber-colored eyes, pieces of hay sticking out of his black hair.
Even at five years old, too much responsibility was placed on his shoulders. Edward remembered the feeling all too well. When he’d been a child, so much had depended on him and his health as the next in line for the title.
“Why are you upset?” Edward asked quietly as he joined the boy on a bale of hay as he continued to wipe his eyes.
“I hate it when Mama yells at you and hits you. She’s so mean.”
Edward said nothing, even though he agreed with the child. His sister was five years his senior, and she had only grown nastier and bolder after her husband had left the kingdom and abandoned his family years ago.
“She cares about you.”
The poor boy shook his head. “She doesn’t. She sometimes yells at me, too.”
Because she’s hurting.
But that gave her no right to treat them this way.
He pressed his lips together and hung his head. His eyes stung as he wrapped an arm around James’ shoulders and drew him into a side embrace. “I care about you.”
James sniffed into Edward’s shoulder. “I want a papa. I wish you could be my papa.”
He blinked rapidly when he was all too close to losing control of his emotions. “Uncles can be there for you, too. I’ll never leave you.”
“Promise?”
His troubled gaze shifted to his lap as he recalled what his sister had said. Did the doctor truly think he wouldn’t live much longer?
Still, he squeezed his nephew endearingly and said, “I promise.”