CHAPTER FIVE
A DESPONDENT SIGH escaped Vivienne as she stepped down from the carriage, returning home after another fruitless outing. She was starting to think this mysterious, masked man didn’t exist. The two allotted weeks were almost up, and she still had nothing to show for it.
She tightened her fur shawl around her shoulders, watching as a foggy breath left her lips after another sigh. These outings were taxing on her exhausted body. Every waking moment, rather than resting like she ought to, she had to hide her condition by being seen and by attending event after event until she wanted to drop. It didn’t help that the longer she remained upright, the more she wanted to vomit.
Holding it in was one of the hardest things she’d had to do.
Following her mother inside the palace, she allowed a servant to take her wrap and followed her mother to their family’s suite in the west wing of the castle. As she climbed the long length of the curved staircase, she absently trailed her fingers over the smooth wood of the railing, her feet treading plush carpet.
Servants passed with a slight bow or curtsy. She hardly had the strength to acknowledge them when she simply wanted to collapse and fall asleep for several weeks.
Finally, when they reached the suites, everyone absent except the two of them and their twittering yellow canaries in cages, Vivienne loosened the strings on her corset and sighed in relief as she slumped onto the settee with her feet up. Her clothing was starting to get tighter. Soon enough, she would have to wear a different style of clothing altogether.
Thank the Mother Goddess it’s almost winter.
She would be able to hide her condition for a while longer wearing a shawl.
Mother tapped her fan in her palm as she surveyed Vivienne up and down. “We cannot wait any longer. You will marry Duke Hastings.”
“You promised me a few more days.”
“I’ve changed my mind. We are standing on perilous ground.”
Vivienne didn’t protest as she covered her face with her elbow. Hot, silent tears trailed down her cheeks as she recalled deep blue eyes, a breathtaking smile, and a spirit that matched hers in energy and playfulness. She would be losing so much.
But what more could she do? She had done everything that could possibly be done.
The tears quickly fell over her cheeks and seeped into her hair. Tears of heartache. Of frustration. Of hopelessness. What a dreary life she would have married to the monotone, self-enamored duke. The thought disgusted her. It dampened her spirits. Of course, she knew other women near her age who had married men twice older than them. Sometimes it was just the way things were. And perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t already fallen for another.
“Oh!” her mother gasped, making her jump.
“What is it?” She bolted upright and dried her tears, quickly joining her mother’s side. The older woman held an invitation to a party hosted by Lord Beaumont.
She perked up at the name. Years ago, they had been the best of friends. What had happened in the seven years of their separation? Although she hadn’t seen him in a long time, she’d seen the man’s sister at least a hundred times.
She released a long breath, trying her best to keep her meal down when the jarring movement of leaping to her feet churned her stomach in the most horrid way.
Mother tapped the invitation with a finger. “Lord Beaumont matches the physical description you gave me. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of him before now. He’s so… elusive . Doesn’t attend gatherings very often.”
Vivienne snatched the invitation from her mother, scanning the words several times before they finally sank in. The party was scheduled a few days from now, a formal event. “You think this could be him?”
“If it isn’t, then I have no choice but to marry you to the duke.”
She made a face. The duke was overly vain and selfish to the point of annoyance. He stood too close and his breath sometimes smelled of rot. Oh, and he was twice her age.
Nodding distractedly, her mother took the invitation back and wandered across the room. “Wear your red gown for this event. It looks best with your hair color and skin tone. Plus, it’s a bit more…snug in the upper bodice.”
“Mother!”
The other woman smiled apologetically. “You have a possible viscount to catch. You must use every asset available to you.”
Stress and anxiety ate away at her as she wrung one of her gloves between her fingers, pacing back and forth across the room. “It’s been seven weeks. If it is him, and he’s been so close all this time… Perhaps he never wanted to find me in the first place.”
Her mother took her by the shoulders and squeezed. “We are Winfields ! We take what we want and forge our own path. You will have that man eating out of the palm of your hand before you’re done with him.”
Her eyes smarted at her mother’s kind words, and she threw her arms around her shoulders. “What would I do without you?”
“I am your mother. We are on the same side, darling. And we will see this succeed.”
She hoped so with all her heart. She couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason shadows were cast upon her family. She would fix this. Somehow, everything would work out fine.
Over the course of days, Edward avoided Clara. But truly, he needn’t even bother, as she was far too busy taking over the preparations for the party that it took every ounce of her attention. And when the day finally arrived, he couldn’t help but feel smug satisfaction when society expected him to play the attentive host as lord of the house, and Clara had no excuse to lock him away in his room.
A shaky exhale escaped him when his head felt too light, and his heart misbehaved. But this time, he wasn’t sure if it was due to his condition or from nerves.
Was the masked woman going to show up?
If so, who was she? Would he recognize her?
He stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, watching as guests entered with excitement written on their faces. They reveled at the wintry decorations of pine and red berries, at the music drifting elegantly through the large room, at the mountains of refreshments servants offered on silver platters. He tried to look past the sea of green, blue, and purple skirts, past the gentlemen escorting their ladies inside, and studied each face.
His gaze quickly flitted over blonde hair and remained longer on the brunettes. After greeting dozens of guests, his hopes deflated when he didn’t recognize any of them as his mystery woman.
A servant passed by with a glass of wine. He reached for the stem of the glass and threw it back quickly before Cedric managed to snatch it away.
The man in question held out a hand as if he’d been in the process of reaching for it, but then his lips pressed together, and he took several steps back, his gaze staring ahead.
Alcohol made his condition worse. But tonight, he needed it. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure how to survive his nerves.
“There you are!” Uncle Maxwell’s voice boomed excitedly across the room as he approached with outstretched arms, pulling him in for a brief embrace. “You have a talent for blending in with the wall.”
Edward chuckled, his nerves dissolving the slightest bit with the comfort of his uncle’s presence. The man had been like a second father since his own had passed years ago. “I wasn’t sure you would make it. I thought you were on a trip across the sea.”
He clapped him on the shoulder and downed a drink himself. “I returned two days ago. Wouldn’t want to miss my nephew’s party. They happen only once in an eon.” His attention perked up as if he spotted someone across the room. “I’ll find you later. I have to catch up with a few friends.”
His uncle squeezed his shoulder before weaving through the crowd in the opposite direction.
The scent of sweet pastries wafted past Edward’s nose, and he snatched one from a platter as well, nibbling on it to give him something to do other than fret. If he didn’t find the woman tonight , he likely would have no chance at all.
“You look strung tight,” a voice said behind him, and he spun around to find a familiar head of blond hair and blue eyes staring back at him.
“Thank the stars you’re here,” he groaned. “I thought I’d have to face this alone.”
“This as in meeting your mystery woman?” Barnaby chuckled, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “Is she here?”
Edward shrugged. “I don’t know.” But then he scratched his arm anxiously. “I would recognize her if she was, wouldn’t I? Or do you think I’ve already forgotten what she looks like?”
“I highly doubt you’ve forgotten. But it certainly makes things difficult if you’ve only really seen the bottom half of her face.”
He groaned again, running his fingers through his hair, when he thought of something else to churn his stomach into a tangled mess. What if she had forgotten him? Weeks had passed. And although she’d been on his mind every single day, he worried the memory of him had slipped her mind entirely.
“I think I might be sick.”
Barnaby slapped him on the shoulder. “Hold it together for a little longer. People are still arriving.”
Taking a long, deep breath, he stood straighter and greeted more guests. It was only a matter of time before she showed up. Surely.
Vivienne smoothed her hair for the dozenth time. She fixed her bodice, struggling to breathe when everything felt far too tight. She pinched her cheeks when her churning stomach had stolen all traces of color from her face and left her with a pale complexion.
Her mind was in a daze as she exited the carriage in the darkness of night and stared back at a beautiful estate surrounded by dazzling pines, flickering torchlight, and a warm, welcoming feel to the exterior of the large home.
Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her dress as she allowed a servant to take her cloak, and then she stepped inside.
A whoosh of warm air washed over her, followed by the feeling of…safety. Of relief. She didn’t know what else to call the sensation other than returning home. Almost as if she’d been here before.
Almost as if…
She inhaled sharply, recalling a time long ago of running through these halls. Climbing trees. Riding horses. Laughing beneath the stars. And most of all, she remembered a pair of dark blue eyes crinkled with happiness and warmth.
In the years that had passed, she’d almost forgotten. But now…
“We’ve been here before,” she gasped quietly to her mother as they walked down a lavish hallway decorated with pine garlands.
Mother smiled softly, but a deep sadness lived within her eyes. “Lady Beaumont was my dearest friend. She and her husband went on a voyage to find a cure for…well, I can’t remember what. But they never returned home, declared dead long ago. Edward Beaumont had still been only a boy at their passing. His sister took over the estate for a time until he came of age.”
The memories flashed through her mind faster now. Long hours with the horses. An afternoon fishing beside the lake. Most of the memories she had with Edward were filled with joy and laughter in the outdoors. If she recalled correctly, he was four or five years older than her.
But then her stomach dipped when she remembered him spending days, weeks in bed with a terrible illness. She didn’t know what the illness had been, only that he had recovered later.
She had not seen her childhood friend in a long time. Could he possibly be the masked man she’d met at the masquerade?
She quickened her steps, needing to know the truth.
She burst inside the ballroom, hardly sparing a thought or word for anyone else when her gaze darted frantically about.
Edward, Edward, Edward.
Her heart beat his name through her veins in her desperate attempt to locate him. Mother followed close at her heels, apologizing to others about her behavior, claiming she was simply excited about the event.
But then her heart seemed to cease beating altogether as her gaze landed on a man with black hair longer in the front than in the back.
Vivienne’s mouth dried, and her heart beat unbearably fast, her hands perspiring with nervous anxiety. With a single glance, she knew it was him. The man from the masquerade. The slight curve of his lips was unmistakable. The dark blue of his eyes had been imprinted on her heart. And she recalled the sweep of his black hair tangled in her fingers, his sweet mouth showering her in kisses.
“I found him,” she said breathlessly as if her lungs couldn’t draw air in his presence. He stood in a circle of three other men and two women. She recognized Lord Barnaby Mavis and Sir Tobie Lambton. She’d seen Sir Charles Lockwood around the palace.
As for the identity of her masked man, she only dared to hope…
Her mother followed her gaze before her eyes sparkled with excitement. “The black-haired one? Yes! That’s Edward Beaumont. The viscount. The man I was talking about. You’re positive it’s him?”
Vivienne placed a hand to her fluttering belly as her gaze roamed over him. She recognized his broad shoulders and tall stature. The way he flipped his hair out of his eyes. The way his mouth curved when someone must have voiced a jest. “I’m almost certain.” But…there was something different about him. A tentative expression lingered on his face, and his stance didn’t exude confidence like the man she’d met at the masquerade.
“Then let us go to him. You’ve charmed him once.” Her mother scoffed as she opened her fan and leisurely made her way toward the viscount. “Surely, you can do it again.”
Yet, she had an audience of six, plus her mother. Charming him with people looking on would not be easy.
Fear crept up within her as they moved nearer to the group. He’d had weeks to find her! And heaven knew she’d been searching far too long to find him. What if he’d forgotten about her? What if he didn’t care anymore?
Her heart pounding against her ribcage, she withdrew her fan from her reticule and popped it open. And just as they stood before the group, she “accidentally” dropped her fan at his feet.
“Oh,” he murmured, stooping down to pick it up. He was still crouched when he lifted his head, and their gazes locked.
Edward’s mouth fell open, and he simply stared back at her, at a loss for words. Now that he was closer, she knew without a doubt he was the man from the masquerade. The same dark blue eyes. The same tone of voice. And he gazed at her as if dumbstruck, his open mouth familiar in the most pleasant ways.
She took a small measure of satisfaction that he seemed to recognize her, too.
“Lord Beaumont, what a pleasure to be invited to this splendid event,” her mother said, breaking them out of their daze long enough for him to stand and pull his gaze from her and fix his attention on her mother. He immediately bowed at the waist, recognizing her superior rank. “I don’t suppose you remember my daughter, Lady Vivienne Winfield. The two of you used to spend hours and hours playing together as children.”
Edward silently mouthed an obvious profanity as he glanced back toward her, his face pale with something akin to terror. He likely feared her father and what the warlord might do to him should he find out about their passionate rendezvous.
Vivienne curtsied and gave him a demure smile. “I am honored to be reacquainted with you, Your Lordship.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her meaning coming across a different way between the two of them.
Behind him, Lord Mavis elbowed Edward in the back. He coughed and held out a hand to her. “The pleasure is mine,” he squeaked, and she found it difficult to stifle a laugh. She only barely managed to restrain herself.
She placed her hand in his, her stomach flipping pleasantly as he lifted her hand and bestowed a light kiss over her fingers.
But all too quickly, he dropped her hand and glanced over her shoulder. She knew he was looking for her father. He wasn’t attending the event tonight, thank the stars.
“Perhaps, Lord Beaumont,” she said in an attempt to bring his attention back to her, “you might seek me out later for a dance.”
He shook his head. “I am not dancing tonight. I will owe you for the next event.”
Unease pinched her in the gut as she searched his eyes for…for what, exactly? He was cold and aloof and seemingly uninterested. Where was the confident, flirtatious, playful man she’d met weeks ago?
Because he was not here.
Without a word, Vivienne curtsied and turned on her heel in a hasty escape before her mortification could make an entrance. This was not going to plan. She’d expected this to be easy. But the task was far from it.
“Mama,” she lamented, a shaky hand covering her mouth the moment they ducked behind a pillar.
“All will be well,” her mother reassured, rubbing her arm encouragingly. “We will get through this. Together. If not him, we will find someone else—”
“I don’t want anyone else.” She couldn’t imagine raising a child with a man who wasn’t the father. Tricking someone like that… It left a sour taste in her mouth. “It has to be him.” She stole her mother’s fan, as Edward still held hers, and fanned her face to attempt to dry her damp eyes. “What will we do?”
Her mother fixed the broach on her bodice as they both glanced in Edward’s direction. “We planted the seeds. Now we must let them grow.”
“What is wrong with you?” Tobie laughed, smacking Edward in the shoulder. “She was making eyes at you and you stood there like an idiotic fool.”
“She’s the king’s niece,” he answered in a daze, staring at her fan he still held in his hand, not quite believing what just transpired. “The warlord’s daughter.”
“And?” Charles shoved him in the direction Vivienne had disappeared, but he dug in his feet. “Go talk to her.”
Edward shook his head, rounding on his friends as he hissed, “We explored the gothic estate together. During the masquerade.” When he only received blank looks, he emphasized, “We explored it.”
“Oh, Edward…” Ivette shook her head sympathetically.
“By the heavens…” Barnaby tsked as he tipped Edward’s chin up and patted his neck. “You’ve done it now. You’re going to lose your head.”
He placed a hand over his throat, imagining a sharp, steel sword beheading him for deflowering the princess. Well, he was almost certain he wasn’t the one to do the job in the first place, but all the same…
“I can’t see her again.” He backed up, a feeling of wrongness climbing his body as his heart acted up like it always did before an episode. A sharp pain exploded through his head. His palms became cold and clammy.
Cedric took several steps forward, but Edward held up a hand to stop him. He didn’t want to make a scene. He could control this. He could .
The conversation continued without him, the others oblivious to his struggles. Tobie said, “I thought she was still a child.”
Barnaby shook his head. “She came of age a few months ago. At least her age can’t count against you, Edward.”
His stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Not on my shoes.” Barnaby stepped backward and fixed his sleeves. “Edward, you are of good breeding and in good standing with the king. Sure, you’re no prince… But sometimes even princesses will marry beneath them.”
“I. Cannot. Marry. Her.”
For many reasons. First, he was terrified of the woman’s father. Second, his sister would never allow it. Third, if Vivienne—his dear childhood friend—discovered just how weak he was, she would run for the hills.
Charles crossed his arms, staring at him with an intense expression. “Did you not stop to think of the consequences?”
Edward pressed a hand against his stomach in an attempt to quell his queasiness. “I wasn’t thinking at all. Besides, I didn’t know who she was. Or I would never have…” He trailed off when bile climbed his throat.
“Who else knows? Do her parents?”
He gave his friend a pointed look. “I’m quite certain I would have been killed in my sleep by now if someone else knew. I don’t think she’s told anyone.”
Barnaby squeezed his shoulder. “Breathe, Edward. You threw this ball to find her. And now you have.”
“But I never realized…I didn’t…” He struggled for air, but he fought through the episode lying in wait with clawed fingers.
By the bellows of autumntide, he’d made a mistake. All he’d wanted was to be free for a single night. To be better. Stronger. He’d fallen for Vivienne rather quickly, easily taken by her humor and her wit, her adventurous spirit. One thing had happened after another, and now the real world had caught up to him.
Vivienne Winfield was the last person he should have ever dallied with. Why did he have to pick up her shoe?
“What do I do?” he breathed, slowly losing capacity in his lungs to draw in air. He fought through it.
Emmaline, Charles’ wife, answered this time, a performer who had the most beautiful singing voice. “Perhaps you ought to make it right with her. Whatever that looks like.”
Braving the fear running rampant through his body, he lifted his head and searched the ballroom for Vivienne. He found her on the opposite side of the room with her mother, fawned over by men and women alike. The beautiful woman laughed at something the duke said and batted her eyes at the man.
A pit of jealousy grew in his chest, starting as a small pebble and enlarging to the size of a boulder. The duke was twice her age, but he had already lost two wives and had yet to have an heir. He was likely looking for a new wife.
Edward hadn’t realized he’d started stalking toward them until he’d taken several steps away from his friends. But then the feeling of wrongness smashed into him with a vengeance. Air struggled in and out of his lungs. His legs became weak.
Within moments, Cedric grabbed Edward’s arm and draped it around his shoulders, pulling him swiftly out of the room until they were out of sight. He lowered him onto a cushioned bench beside large glass windows overlooking the expansive lawn below.
Edward placed one hand over his racing heart, and the other pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off the growing ache. With controlled breaths, he took each inhale and exhale slowly until his pulse slowed and his lungs ceased spasming.
He sighed as he rested his head on the glass and closed his eyes, both hating and appreciating the silence in the hallway.
Silence…
It was a constant, lonely companion. Was he destined to live out the rest of his days as a bachelor? No woman would look twice at him if they learned of the truth.
Including Vivienne.
Perhaps he should let the duke snatch her from beneath his nose.
“Am I destined to die like this?” Edward mumbled miserably to the reflection of Cedric through the glass.
Cedric tipped his head to the side and gave him a sympathetic smile. “The doctor said you wouldn’t live past your fifth birthday. I think you have many years left to live . It is your choice how those years are lived.”
“Is it, though?”
The servant remained silent. No, not a servant. His friend . Barnaby, Tobie, and Charles were his friends. However, they knew very little of the burdens he shouldered. But Cedric? He was there for him every day to help him when in need. He understood him, at least to some degree. Perhaps Edward would have died long ago without Cedric’s care and attention. And though their relationship was…somewhere between servant and friend, he’d never been closer to anyone.
Except Vivienne…
He released a long breath and stared out the window at the peaceful pines surrounding his property. Those years of his childhood were some of his most treasured memories. He’d been struggling at the time with his health. And Vivienne? Although several years younger than him, she’d brought back the light, the life, and the laughter into an otherwise dreary world.
A faint smile lifted on his lips as he recalled all the trees they’d climbed together. Or on more difficult health days, they’d fished out on the lake behind the estate. They’d gone on adventures through the forest, collecting pine needles and leaves to make bird nests or stealing trowels from the shed and digging as deep as they dared in search of the other side of the world.
How many times had they snuck pastries from the kitchen? He remembered taking those pastries and holing up in the attic, drawing the entirety of their imaginations on parchment and hanging them about the walls.
They’d gone on countless adventures. And it had broken his heart and soul when his parents had died on their voyage and Vivienne had stopped coming to his home.
At the masquerade, he hadn’t recognized her, as Vivienne Winfield had been a child in his mind at the time. But she was a beautiful, spirited young woman now with long, luscious hair and the most flattering curves…
He ran a hand over his mouth as he reminded himself how they’d made love in a vacant carriage. His childhood friend. The king’s niece. The warlord’s daughter.
I’m a dead man.
“Will you be returning to the party, milord?” Cedric asked, hands held behind his back as he awaited his answer.
And run away with my tail between my legs?
But he couldn’t face her again. He just…didn’t know how.
It was best if he maintained his distance. Because he was sick. He would always be sick. And she deserved someone healthy in her life. Even if the man was twice her age.
“Please send my regrets to my friends,” he said quietly, using the wall to help him stand on wobbly feet. He squeezed his eyes shut when his surroundings spun. Despite his best efforts, he could not remain a good host for a second longer. Clara would have to play the part for the rest of the night.
Without another word, he retreated to the safety of his tower.
With a look of regret, Cedric closed the door. And locked him inside.
IF EDWARD WAS anything, it was not a person who thrilled in the rise of the sun, in the arrival of a new dawn. He preferred staying up late reading books or looking at the stars. But he most certainly shied away from the bright light of the sunrise, especially as it smashed into him the moment he stepped foot downstairs the next morning.
Cedric followed several steps behind him. Over the years, Edward had grown used to his shadowing presence. And unfortunately, more than once, Edward had had need of it.
But today? He felt stronger than he had in a while. Perhaps he ought to spend the time outdoors while he still could before winter—
He paused in his step as he entered the dining room. Light spilled over an unexpected presence sitting at the far end of the table. Nearest the window. Next to his sister.
Edward’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. His breath faltered in his lungs. The world seemed to tip upside down and almost spilled him on the floor.
He grabbed onto the back of a chair as a shaky exhale left his lips, and he couldn’t help but stare back at a pair of dark brown eyes as they leveled their mischievous, amused gaze on him.
“Lady Vivienne,” Edward choked, his attention dropping to the playful smirk at the edge of her lips. “What…? Why…?”
Oh, she was impossibly more beautiful than even yesterday. Full brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. A velvety green gown hugged her body in all the right places. And her eyes… Lovely. Captivating. Alluring.
“I do regret that my mother has fallen ill and cannot find the strength to journey home.” Vivienne reached across the table and squeezed his sister’s hand. “Clara has been most generous by allowing us to stay the night.”
“You stayed the night?” he spluttered. “Why was I not informed?”
Clara rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. His opinion is worthless in estate matters such as these. You and your mother are most welcome.”
Edward’s lips thinned at the embarrassing slight, though he took heart in knowing someone else was in the room, and Clara would be on her best behavior. “Then I will take myself and my worthless opinions elsewhere.” He gathered several scones and pieces of cheese on a plate and retreated from the room. With a hurried step, he crossed the estate, unlocked his study, and ducked inside, hearing Cedric follow behind.
But when he turned, rather than finding Cedric’s constant presence, his stomach tightened when he found Vivienne instead. His heart misbehaved, fluttering inside his chest. Breathing became difficult for the most wonderful reasons.
At least until he recovered from his shock enough to respond with panic. “Why are you here?” he hissed, glancing out the door only to find Cedric across the hallway with his back turned to them and Clara nowhere in sight. “You can’t be here.”
“I forgot something from my room,” she replied with that mischievous smile on her face.
“No, not here .” He gestured to his office. “Why are you in my home?”
“And why not?”
“Why not?” he spluttered. “You know why. We can’t be doing this. This is a bad idea.”
“What exactly do you mean by this , Edward?”
Her mouth curved up in a sultry grin as she ran a finger down the length of his chest. Heat spiked in his body in response to her touch. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He didn’t want to despite knowing he should.
And then she lowered her voice, her eyes sparking playfully. “I found you in the real world. And I am quite surprised we didn’t run into each other before now.” Her gaze passed over his face, and her expression softened. “You look nothing like I remember you.”
“I can say the same about you, Vivi.”
How much time had passed? Six? Seven years?
“Lady Vivienne?” his sister called somewhere down the hall, and his feet froze to the floor. “I do look forward to that carriage ride. I feel a bitter storm brewing in the air, and it may be our last opportunity.”
Before he could protest, Vivienne latched onto his arm and pulled him out of the study just as his sister rounded the corner. Upon seeing the two of them, Clara’s lips thinned with disapproval and disdain. The sight curled his stomach. Clara would likely seek him out later to punish him.
He tried to pull his arm out of Vivienne’s grip, but she held tight and smiled at Clara, saying, “Lord Beaumont has agreed to accompany us. How enjoyable will it be to catch up with both of you?”
Clara returned a tight smile. “Indeed.”
The moment his sister turned her back to them, Edward elbowed Vivienne in the ribs. She elbowed him right back before pasting on a smile when Clara glanced over her shoulder.
Fear wormed its way into his chest as he stared at his sister while gathering a warm coat and shoes for the outing. What was she going to do to him? How would he be punished? Would she lock him in his room without supper for a day or two? Would she prevent him from seeing his friends for several weeks? Would she raise a hand to strike him?
Worry over his fate successfully distracted him as he waited outside with the others in the chilly air as the servants readied the topless carriage. A frosty breath escaped his lips, the chill nipping at every exposed piece of skin.
He didn’t mind the cold. Actually, he rather enjoyed it when it offered fresh air and a lively nip to the skies.
After the carriage rounded the estate, he climbed in first, scooting to the farthest side of the bench. Clara sat directly in the middle, clearly meaning for Vivienne to take up the seat on her other side to separate them and to make speaking to one another difficult.
What he hadn’t expected was for Vivienne to climb the steps into the carriage and forcefully wedge herself between the two of them until Clara was compelled to scoot over.
Edward rested his mouth in his hand to hide the grin breaking free from his careful reserve. He’d forgotten how… abrasive Vivienne could be. If she wanted something, she wasn’t the kind of person to allow others to trod over her. He’d always admired her determined attitude in every facet of her life.
It seemed as if she hadn’t changed much.
As the carriage rolled forward, Edward was hyperaware of the brush of Vivienne’s shoulder, of the tip of her shoe resting against his, of her scarf pooling over his upper thigh. He tried to ignore it by turning his attention to the passing scenery as the women talked, fully expecting to be snubbed.
Which was why his heart gave a start as Vivienne turned to him and animatedly spoke of her excitement over the winter markets coming to town any day now. His breath hitched as she rested one of her knees against his, stealing his thoughts from his mind and making him unable to think clearly.
“I bought the most beautiful scarf from the winter market a few years back,” Vivienne continued as she took her current scarf from her own neck and draped it over his, flipping it around his neck like a warm embrace. “It has the most intricate beaded work done by the northern mountain villagers. I can barely bring myself to wear it, I love it so much.”
“Is that not the point?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “A book is not well-loved unless it’s nearly falling apart.”
Clara scoffed. “No one wants to hear about your books, Edward.” She leaned closer to Vivienne and murmured, “Don’t mind him. He’s frightfully boring.” And quickly, she changed the subject to frilly things like ribbons and bows and gossip.
He sighed and rested his chin in his hand, returning his attention toward the turning landscape. Only a few brown leaves remained on bare trees, waiting for the next windy breeze to pluck them from their home and take them on a flight through the kingdom.
He related all too much with the lone leaves, stuck in one place and unable to explore the world. Slowly dying until it waited to take its last breath.
“Right Edward?” Vivienne asked, snapping his attention back to her. He needn’t ask for clarification when she spoke again. “I do enjoy a good book. Remember when we took the largest volume of fairy tales to our secret hideout when we were children?” The woman giggled behind a gloved hand. “You read stories in the most captivating way.”
Edward laughed as he recalled the fun adventures they’d had within the pages of a book. There had never been a dull moment that passed between them. He’d missed their friendship. Immensely. “I rather enjoyed your attempts at creating the characters’ voices. Especially little frog prince.”
“Oh dear.” She chuckled again. “I have not attempted the feat in many years.”
Clara cleared her throat loudly before speaking to the driver. “I fear I am growing far too cold for such an outing. Let us return home for a warm spot of tea.”
With a single nod, the driver found a place to turn around, and all too soon, they headed back toward the estate.
Disappointment rushed through Edward at having their excursion cut short. His shoulders slumped. A sigh escaped his lips. He loved the outdoors. But it wasn’t often that Clara would allow him to leave the house. In fact, he’d been able to leave far less than usual lately, especially after the terrible episode he’d experienced weeks ago.
“Tis no matter,” Vivienne said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “There is plenty to do indoors. How about a game?”
Before he managed an answer, Clara cut in, “Oh, that sounds lovely. I think it’s just what we need.”
“Edward?”
Behind Vivienne, Clara nearly imperceptibly shook her head, a warning flashing in her eyes. If the punishment for this excursion was going to be bad, the consequence for defying her would be worse.
“I…umm…” He swallowed as he returned his gaze to Vivienne, trying to hide the fear swirling in his gut. “I have a lot of work to do. Perhaps another time.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in her own eyes cracked his heart. Maybe she missed his friendship just as much as he missed hers. “Yes, perhaps another time.”
And then she turned back to his sister and spoke about the frilly things Clara enjoyed, all while both ignored him entirely. A cold loneliness crawled into the very foundation of his bones, an aching melancholy slowly turning his blood to stone.
Edward had been living a silly dream. What did he think would happen once he found the woman in the mask? That they would marry and live happily ever after? The sick man was never the hero in fairy tales. He was usually the sibling that ended up dying while his brother or sister lived happily ever after.
To hide his emotions, he forced himself to adopt a stone mask, to make it seem like he wasn’t heartbroken in the slightest. But even then, he hugged Vivienne’s scarf a little closer, breathing in her scent wafting from the soft fabric. She smelled like flowery perfume, and it brought him back to the night everything had changed between them. Back to laughter and happiness and carefree love.
The horses halted too quickly, causing him to hit the side of the carriage. Vivienne stumbled into him, latching onto him for balance. When she turned her head toward him, she ensnared him with her beautiful brown eyes.
All of his surroundings faded away. The sounds melted until he only heard his own heartbeat pulsing through his ears and her short breaths escaping pretty pink lips. Every place they touched set him ablaze, and he found himself craving her company more than he’d wanted anything in the world.
“Apologies!” the driver called out, effectively breaking the spell between them.
Before his sister had a chance to catch them in that position, Edward pulled her scarf from around his neck and draped it over hers.
“Save a book for me,” she whispered. “Perhaps you might allow me to read quietly in the corner while you work.”
He didn’t get the chance to reply when Clara turned toward them, and he quickly placed distance between Vivienne and himself.
Without a word, he bowed to them and hurried into the estate, trying to escape Clara before she intercepted him. She wouldn’t dare harm him with guests in the house. Would she?
Still, he increased his pace across the estate, up the flight of stairs leading to his room, and closed the door behind him. He could not hide from her. He knew that. But he could certainly try.
After several minutes, he relaxed when he thought she might not follow him to his room. He released a melancholy sigh as he took off his coat and shoes before sitting on the edge of his bed. There was no use lamenting over his fate. He was no hero in a storybook. No matter how much he wished to be.
The door opened suddenly, and he lifted his head, expecting to find Cedric. But then his throat constricted with fear when his sister entered instead. “Clara.”
But she simply smiled rather than charging at him with a raised hand. “I noticed you’ve been a bit sluggish lately, and I wanted to check on you myself.” She placed a vial of his medicine in his hand. “I so desperately want you to get better, Eddie. I planned an outing with the queen after the storm abates, and I do hope you might be able to join us.”
“The queen?”
Clara had always aspired to fit in with such a crowd, but she’d never once tried to include him.
She nodded, and when he didn’t drink his medicine, she unstopped the vial for him and handed it back. “Little James is so excited to visit the palace. Imagine that! The king’s sister invited us herself. She’s still feeling ill, but when she recovers, she would love to have us.”
Edward fingered the vial, staring at the yellowish contents within. Perhaps if he felt well enough to go… Would Vivienne be there?
The thought of her gave him enough motivation to place the vial to his lips and drink. If he continued to take his medicine, could he possibly get better? Could he become strong enough to reenter society and somehow woo Vivienne?
If he made a connection with her, it would be advantageous for his sister as well, considering she aspired to belong to the queen’s close-knit group.
His sister took the vial back from him, the smile lingering on her face. He blinked heavily when a sudden fatigue pressed down on his shoulders. He hadn’t gotten enough sleep the night before, as thoughts of Vivienne had plagued his mind.
Unable to hold his head upright, he curled up on his bed, but the fatigue only seemed to grow when his mind spun dizzily, and his eyelids felt as if they were weighted with bricks.
Clara tucked blankets around him before opening the door, turning back to him one last time with a smile on her face. “Oh, you poor thing. Sweet dreams.”
Finally, the fatigue dragged him into cool waters, and his entire world turned dark.