CHAPTER THIRTEEN
QUITE FRANKLY, EDWARD found himself growing tired of waking up in a bed after no recollection of falling asleep in the first place. And in an immense amount of pain at that.
His chest felt heavy, and each breath he took was like the stab of a knife through the ribs.
Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, but his disorientation only grew when he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling, lying on an unfamiliar cot in an unfamiliar room. Rather than walls of bumpy stone, he faced a flat surface a light green in color.
On the bedside table lay a variety of medical equipment, including an uneaten meal of bread and cheese and a glass of water.
His parched throat begged for the water, and unable to stop himself, he reached for it with a shaky hand, only to find another hand darting out to snatch it first.
He inhaled sharply, only to glance up to find Cedric offering him a sympathetic smile.
“Slowly,” his friend cautioned as he helped him drink the lukewarm water. Some of it spilled onto his shirt, but most of it made it down his throat.
“Where am I?” Edward croaked after he finished half the glass and glanced around with bleary, confused eyes.
“The palace infirmary. You collapsed outside. Well, your lung collapsed, too. But the doctor is treating it.”
“You’ve stayed with me this whole time?”
“Of course.” He chuckled sheepishly, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I had to be thoroughly inspected before I was allowed to be alone with you, stripped down and changed into new clothes. But I think I’ve cleared my name. Or at least, I hope.”
Confusion swirled in his mind as he tried to make sense of Cedric’s words. “I don’t understand.”
“You were poisoned,” the doctor from the palace infirmary—Doctor Clark, if he remembered correctly—said from the doorway. “Actually, it has been an ongoing poisoning for the past year.” The man crossed the room and sat in a chair beside his bed. “Do you know anyone who wishes you harm?”
His mouth dropped open as disbelief worked its way into his fatigued body and slow mind. Sleep and disorientation still flitted around his head, his mind finding it difficult to grasp the man’s meaning.
“No one would harm me,” he insisted in a raspy voice.
But then his lips pressed tightly together as he thought of his sister and how she would sometimes strike him. But poison him? Even she wasn’t cruel enough to do something like that. Surely.
The doctor inspected his chest, mouth, eyes, and watched as he took several deep breaths. Next, he set out a variety of ingredients, naming each one out loud as if wanting him to know he wasn’t trying to harm him in any way.
“Your fiancée is quite the spirited one, isn’t she?” The man glanced at him from the corner of his eye as he began adding ingredients to his mortar. “Wouldn’t leave your side until I forced her to step away to get some rest.”
“My what?” His confused and troubled mind couldn’t catch onto his words, unable to make sense of them.
“Lady Vivienne Winfield.” The man continued to watch him as if gauging his reaction while he added several more herbs to a mortar. “She said you proposed. And she accepted.”
Did she?
A slow smile crept up on his lips as his thoughts turned to the lovely woman in question. No one made him laugh quite like she did. He could spend hours with her and never tire of her company. And if what the doctor said was true? Then he was the luckiest man in the entire kingdom.
And then his train of thought turned to their fight in the carriage, to her life-altering secret. He wished she would have told him sooner. Then he would have been able to sort out this mess without the uncertainty of his death.
Despite how terrified he felt over the idea of becoming a father, elation also filled him at the new hope of building a life with Vivienne, at building a family. If the doctor was correct, that he’d been poisoned, perhaps he could recover. Maybe he wouldn’t die, after all.
“I must see her.”
“I’m sure she will show her face soon,” the man chuckled, seemingly appeased at his reaction to the unexpected news of their betrothal. “The entire castle is in an uproar. About how you were so excited to propose that you collapsed a lung.”
The quick gossip must have been Barnaby’s doing. Edward would recognize his friend’s meddling handiwork anywhere.
“Ugh,” he grunted. “I’m terribly embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. All the ladies at court are swooning over the romantic notion of it.” And then he grimaced as he mashed the ingredients together in a bowl. “Duke Hastings is rather put out. Furious, even. He had planned to propose to the Lady Vivienne, but you beat him to it.”
Edward released a long sigh, too exhausted to worry about the aftermath of his actions. “Not a great enemy to have.”
“Neither are you, Your Lordship. And he knows it.”
Edward found it refreshing that the doctor was rather open with his thoughts and opinions. Especially considering he catered to much of the upper class living within the palace.
Quick footsteps rushed in the direction of the room, and moments later, the door flew open without receiving a knock first. There, on the other side, Vivienne stood panting for air, her brunette hair wild with half of it in an updo and the other half falling out of the pins and around her shoulders.
Doctor Clark chuckled. “Ah, there she is now.”
“Edward!” Vivienne gasped, flying to his bedside and grasping his hand. “You’re awake. Oh, how worried I’ve been! I didn’t get a wink of sleep when the thought of your suffering plagued me every minute of the night. I was terrified you might never wake. So when one of the nurses sent for me, imagine how fast I ran to see you. Of course, others laughed at me for my haste, but more of a dreamy sigh kind of laugh? Anyway, I am so happy to see you’re conscious.”
Despite his fatigue, his body reacted to her simple touch by spreading heat through his chest, up his neck, and to his ears.
He didn’t get the chance to reply when the doctor instructed him to drink the medicine he’d created. It tasted like something foul, and he grimaced as he coughed and forced it down. But he did so with a flicker of hope. Perhaps he wouldn’t die if he wasn’t unknowingly consuming poison each day.
“I need to speak with Vivi alone,” he said after washing the medicine down with a swig of water.
The other two left, shutting the door closed behind them. He wasted no time before turning to her. “Everyone thinks we’re engaged. Did you accept me?”
She sat in the chair the doctor had previously occupied and picked at an errant thread on her dress. “Of course, I did. I would be a hopeless fool not to.”
He released a long, relieved sigh, the unease in his heart quieting to a softer joy. “I’m glad.”
More distracted fiddling. “To warn you, my mother has become quite involved with the upcoming marriage. She wants to marry us in one week’s time,” and then she stressed the next part, “ to avoid the heavy snowfalls should we wait longer. ”
Or in other words, to marry them quickly to avoid scandal. It seemed her mother knew. Did anyone else?
He decided he didn’t care. Whatever happened, he would stay by Vivienne’s side. And he hoped rather than succumbing to death after just a few weeks or several months, he might live for much longer once his body recuperated.
He reached for her, needing to touch her, to feel the reassurance of her presence. His fingers grazed her shoulder, and too weak to lift his hand for long, it trailed down her arm and rested over her hand.
“And no one suspects the quick marriage?”
Laughter escaped her, but the worry still lingered in her eyes. She also continued to look anywhere else but at him. “Everyone is too busy thinking our courtship has been overly romantic, the details fed down the gossiping chain by your zealous friends. Well, romanticized details without all the scandal.” She laughed and shook her head, staring into her lap.
“How did this become so…widespread?”
She shrugged one shoulder and played with a strand of hair brushing her shoulder. “Barnaby made quite the fuss out of the proposal, spinning a few tales here and there. It’s quite the love story in the palace gossiping circle.” She bit her lip, her attention fixed on her hair. “Well, I suppose one-sided love story. But that doesn’t matter to everyone when all they see is what they want to see.”
“Vivi,” he murmured, reaching to capture her fretting hand and tugging it closer to rest over his heart. “I have loved you since the moment you snapped your heel. There is nothing ‘one-sided’ about this situation. My only regret is making you feel as if there were.”
At last, she lifted her head, tears swimming in her eyes as she bit her quivering lip. “But why the sudden change of heart? Was I not enough? Why did I have to bring this,” she nodded to her belly, “into the equation before you finally accepted me?”
The sadness in her eyes drowned him in sorrow. What had he done to her? How could he fix this? “Because it gave me an excuse to be selfish. And for the first time in a while, I have hope.”
“You were fully willing to step aside for the duke.”
At the mention of the man, Edward’s lips thinned and his fist clenched. “Oh, believe me. I have imagined you married to the duke countless times, and each instance makes my blood boil. But I only wanted you to be happy.”
“I am happy with you.”
His heart caught at the confession, and denying himself no longer, he cupped her around the back of the neck and pulled her into a kiss.
A grunt of surprise escaped her, but then she melted into him, meeting each of his soft kisses with some of her own. His fingers skimmed over the silky tresses of her hair, his unleashed passion giving him the strength he needed to pull her closer until one of her hands braced against the cot beside him.
He deepened the kiss and sighed at the way she dug her fingers into his hair, at the way she whispered words of affection between kisses, at the way her touch set his entire body ablaze.
His childhood best friend was the woman he was going to marry. Never in his life would he have ever seen it coming. But it felt real. It felt right. And most of all, it felt wonderful.
“I love you, Vivienne Winfield,” he murmured the moment they broke apart and rested their foreheads together.
A warm tear plopped onto his cheek. He found her hand and pressed it to his chest, trying with all his might to convey his sincerity. He would express his feelings a thousand times if only so she might believe them.
“I love you, Edward Beaumont.” She trailed kisses from his temple to his cheek, from his jaw to his neck. “And I’m going to take care of you. Always.”
He chuckled but winced when his lungs weren’t quite ready for such a thing. “It’s never as bad as this. I promise.” His thumb caressed the smooth skin on her jaw. “I will have good days and bad. And on the bad days, I simply have to rest more and avoid manual tasks or activities.” His gaze fixated on her lips, on the way they curved into a worried frown at his words. “There are more good days than bad.”
“And what if you have an episode while I’m away? Who will help you?”
It was endearing the way she worried. But if what the doctor said was true, if they rid his body of the poison and it healed to its former health, then he thought he could manage.
“Cedric is always with me. He’s my friend, but he’s also paid well to be my shadow.”
When the words seemed to appease her, she stroked his hair and kissed his cheek. He’d never thought he’d find himself betrothed, let alone married. He was a lucky man, indeed.
“I told you that you liked my hair,” he teased weakly, letting out a long breath and sinking back into his pillows. Fatigue set into his bones once again as the heat from her kiss dissipated from his veins.
“Oh, hush,” she laughed, brown eyes sparkling with happiness. And then she said, “Given the nature of our fast-approaching wedding, I have a surprise for you when you gain back your strength. A short little adventure.”
“A surprise?” He frowned. “I haven’t done anything for you. I don’t even have a ring yet.” Well, not on him at the moment, at least.
Another laugh, and she lightly shoved his shoulder. “Barnaby spun a tale about how you were too love-struck and frazzled to remember the ring. Prepare yourself for unholy amounts of ribbing.”
“I’m certain there will be plenty of that from what I’ve been told.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips one last time. “Get some rest. I have to oversee wedding preparations, but there is a guard stationed outside the infirmary door just in case.”
“You are a dream, Vivi.”
“Oh…” She waved away his comment with a flip of her hand. “If you are trying to get me to stay, it’s working. So stop it.”
A grin spread across his face as she blew him one last kiss before disappearing from the room.
“Cedric,” he called, and moments later, his servant entered and dipped at the waist in a slight bow.
“Yes, Your Lordship?”
“I need a ring.”