CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CONVERSATION WITH Clara had been filled with tears, honesty, and brutal heartache as they conversed in the late hours of the night in the drawing room round a lantern and late-night refreshments neither of them touched.
“I had no idea, Edward,” she sniffed, wiping another tear with a wet handkerchief. “I never would have given you those elixirs if…”
“You didn’t know the doctor was hired by Maxwell. How could you have?”
“But I feel responsible.” Her shoulders slumped. Shadows jumped across her face in time with the flickering flames from the lantern. “I’ve been a mess since Emerson left me and James. I was scared. Our parents were gone. You were still young. You were sick, and there was a household to run. I was terrified and overwhelmed. I did what I thought was best for you under the circumstances. But…” Another sniff. “I feel awful for the times I have yelled at you, the times I have struck you. I’m sure I could have found a better way to handle things, to trust you more, rather than locking you in your room each night. Please forgive me.”
Never in his life had he seen Clara in this light. So vulnerable. So heartbroken. So defeated.
“I do forgive you.”
She continued speaking, her hand covering her face when she seemed to give up on the amount of tears flowing from her eyes. “It was difficult to watch you with Vivienne. I could immediately see the strong connection you shared. But it wasn’t fair. I’m the one who has been working so hard, so tirelessly, and you get rewarded.” She released a shuddering sigh. “I know my jealousy was wrong, and I feel awful about it. Please forgive me.”
“You already asked for forgiveness, and I have already given it.” He slowly reached across the space between them and hesitantly touched her shoulder. She stiffened when he gave it a brief squeeze. “Do you not like Vivi?”
“Oh, I do like her.” She laughed miserably. “I am so envious of her, too. I have been trying to catch the duke’s eye for years, to hopefully give myself a new beginning. And she swoops in and grabs his attention effortlessly.” She dabbed at her eyes again. “I know I am not as beautiful as her, not as striking.”
“But you are ,” he insisted. “You just aren’t bold enough.”
“I am undeserving of such happiness. I have treated you so poorly. How can I ever make things up to you?”
Edward had never been one to hold a grudge, and forgiveness came all too easily, even for people who probably didn’t deserve it. But Clara was his sister. He wanted to see her happy. “If we can maintain a better relationship with one another, perhaps that’s all the redemption you need.”
Tears clung to his sister’s eyelashes, and it was as if his words flew right over her head. “Please don’t abandon me. Please don’t throw me out after you marry.”
He had never planned on taking away her home. But now that she planted the idea in his head… “You have been so sad since your husband left you.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“Do you want to marry again?”
“Well…I…” The rosy blush on her cheeks became visible in the dim light. “I am not what the duke prefers.”
Edward shook his head, grunting as he struggled to stand with his cane helping to support his weight. He dug through drawers on the opposite side of the room until he found the box Vivienne had left behind—likely on purpose, too—the one containing the ruby necklace gifted from Duke Hastings.
“It’s time for you to be bold, Clara.” He grinned from ear to ear as he held the strand of red gems out to her. He’d found a way to make his sister happy while removing her from the premises entirely. “We are going to return the duke’s necklace. Just follow my lead.”
Vivienne paced back and forth, back and forth in her stunning green and cream wedding gown with a fitted bodice, long, lacy sleeves, and skirts that glimmered when they caught the light just right. It reminded her of the spring thaw after a relentless winter. Coupled with a crown of pine needles and winter florals, she felt beautiful in this dress.
But only one thing was missing—the groom.
“Are you sure he’s not dead?” Vivienne choked, shaking out her hands to relieve some of the tension from her fingers. “An assassin hasn’t finished him off on his way over? He’s thirty minutes late.”
“He’s coming,” her father reassured from where he casually lounged on a chair outside the chapel, his sword resting on his lap. “A servant sent word he was on his way. Besides…” He patted the weapon, the dangerous glint of a war captain in his eye. “I don’t think he would dare jilt my darling little girl on her wedding day.”
“Jilting is one thing. Dying is another.”
Earlier that morning, her father had personally led the search for Edward’s previous doctor. It had taken a couple hours to track him down, but finally they’d found him trying to flee the kingdom, the ship about to set sail. He would be tried for his crimes against Edward and his other patients. But her father reassured the man would be locked away for a very long time.
“Give him ten more minutes,” her father said, his foot bouncing against his knee. “He probably needs them to climb the stairs alone.”
“This isn’t funny, Papa!” She swatted his shoulder, but he only laughed. “Collapsed lungs are a very serious thing.”
His smile disappeared, but she still spotted the corner of his mouth twitching as if he tried to hold it back. “He’ll come.”
Vivienne turned to the window and gazed out toward the road, searching for any signs of his carriage rolling toward the palace. She forced herself not to touch her belly when she held in the bile wanting to escape. It was not easy to hide the pregnancy. But they were almost there. Almost to the altar. Where they should have been from the beginning.
Please hurry, she begged. I can hardly stand to wait any longer.
“So close now, Eddie,” Clara reassured. “You’re almost there.”
But unable to hold himself up any longer, Edward slumped down on the stone staircase leading into the castle, the remaining stairs taunting him with jeers and laughter. There were too many. He couldn’t do it.
“I need to rest for a moment.”
Over the last several days, he’d noticed his energy returning. His heart episodes became less frequent. His body and mind didn’t feel quite so fatigued. The palace doctor said it was a good sign, and that he would likely recover all the way from his poisoning. But it would still take some time to heal, especially for his lung.
Before he could gasp for another breath, two people grabbed him beneath the arms and hoisted him up the rest of the staircase, only for him to discover it was Barnaby and Charles with Tobie trailing behind. He couldn’t help but laugh at his weakness, even as his heart warmed with gratitude.
At the top of the stairs, they placed him back on his feet but heavily supported his weight.
“You were taking ages!” Barnaby cried. “We were on our way to hand deliver you to the altar ourselves. We never thought your delay was because you couldn’t make it up the stairs.”
“I was doing just fine,” Edward jested, brushing a piece of lint off his dress jacket. But as a servant rushed forward with a glass of water, he downed the entire thing in a few gulps and handed back the glass. “I’ll be there. I need to quickly take care of one more item of business.”
“All right,” Tobie tsked, wagging a finger at him. “But if you’re even five more minutes, we’ll drag you by the scruff.”
His friends disappeared down the hallway, and Edward took a moment to straighten his clothing before rounding another corner with his sister in tow. Duke Hastings sat in a chair, a disgruntled expression on his face.
“Don’t miss the wedding,” Edward murmured quietly to Clara.
“I won’t,” she promised, out of breath and clearly nervous when her hands kept wringing over gloved fingers.
“What is this about, Beaumont?” the duke growled as he stood. “Why did you want to meet?”
“Just a simple social visit. You remember my sister, Clara.”
Unbothered by the man’s attitude, Edward guided Clara forward, and she hastily dipped into a curtsy. She touched the Duke’s ruby necklace clasped around her neck and glanced shyly at the man. “I am flattered over the gift you sent me, Duke Hastings. You have such fine taste in jewelry.”
“I did what? No, they weren’t for you. They were for…” But then he trailed off, blinking slowly as his gaze took in his sister as if looking at her in a new light. She looked beautiful today, wearing a daring red dress and a hairdo that had taken a servant two hours to complete. Red was a striking color against her black hair. Striking and bold. Which was exactly what she needed to be today.
And then Hastings’ expression softened, and Edward didn’t miss the hint of hope in his eyes. “Ah, yes. The gift for Lady Clara.” He cleared his throat. “I am so glad you like them. You know, they were imported from across the seas from this beautiful city called Valhedra.” The man offered Clara his arm, and his voice moved farther out of reach as they ventured down the hallway together. Over her shoulder, his sister mouthed thank you .
He simply smiled, wanting to see her happy. Perhaps their sibling relationship could still be mended. It would likely take time, but he finally had hope.
But then his eyes widened as he spun around and quickened his pace down the hallway until he turned the corner and entered the corridor leading toward the back entrance of the palace chapel.
His heart jumped to his throat when he spotted his beautiful bride pacing back and forth before the window, dressed in a stunning green and cream gown with golden accents in the embroidery.
His mouth dried. His skin flushed. Her dress was beautiful. But the woman wearing it managed to outshine it.
His gaze traveled down her curled hair flowing over her shoulders and to the foresty crown lying on top of her head. Emotion caught in his throat when he spotted the necklace of pine cones he’d made for her weaved into the crown as if she were a forest nymph, her beauty next to none.
Behind her, the warlord nodded in Edward’s direction, and a moment later, Vivienne spun around to face him. Relief spilled over her features as he approached and kissed her cheek.
“You look absolutely ravishing.” He took her hand and spun her in a slow circle, admiring the way the dress flowed around her with the movement.
“Edward!” she giggled, playfully swatting his shoulder. “You ought not to see the bride before the wedding. Where have you been?”
“I was occupied.”
She placed her hands on her hips, bringing his attention to the short, lacy gloves covering each delicate finger. “Too occupied to attend your own wedding? My mind worked through every possible terrible scenario, and I felt every possible emotion in your absence. I would be far too angry at you for putting me through so much distress if I didn’t love you so much.”
When she spotted her fan he still hadn’t returned in the breast pocket of his dress coat, splayed out to reveal a lace similar to that of her gloves, a large smile spread across her face.
“I was taking care of Clara and settling a debt.” He winked. “I’ll act like I haven’t seen you yet. Viscount’s honor.”
She laughed again as he kissed her other cheek and rushed through the open doors of the chapel. At least a hundred guests sat on either side of the aisle, each releasing audible breaths of relief at his arrival.
A burst of energy gave him what he needed to climb two more stairs to the dais where his friends stood as witnesses to the wedding on one side while Vivienne’s friends and sisters stood on the other.
Barnaby approached, licked his finger, and Edward tried to unsuccessfully shove him away as he fixed his hair, and then next straightened his cravat, green to match Vivienne’s dress.
“Did you even once look in the mirror this morning?” Barnaby accused as he fixed the lay of his sleeves next, and then re-fixed his hair when the previous fix didn’t seem to appease him.
“It’s been a busy day thus far,” he admitted, his gaze flitting over the audience until he found Clara speaking animatedly to the duke on a back pew. He was shocked to find the duke allowing her to get more than just a single word in, as he was known for long-winded, one-sided conversations. And from how it appeared, he hung onto her every syllable, his eyes never leaving hers as if already smitten.
That, and after a failure to woo Vivienne, Edward wanted to believe the duke was trying harder to catch a wife by being more aware of his lengthy monologues.
He couldn’t help but smile to see his sister happy, as well as to witness James’ curiosity in the man as he peeked his head out from behind his mother. He hoped things went well for them. He truly did.
A musician struck up a slow, jovial song on the vielle, and nervous anticipation fluttered within his belly. But then his heart squeezed with fright as the entire room rumbled like an earthquake as the congregation stood for the bride when she appeared in the doorway on her father’s arm.
His hand flew to his heart as it flipped and flopped within his chest from the scare. He felt silly as he lifted his pointed finger to Vivienne to signal he needed a moment while everyone’s attention was fixed on her.
Bless the woman’s heart, she turned right and left to show off her dress, the audience oohing and awing, while he focused on taking deep breaths and remaining on his feet. He would not have an episode on his wedding day. He refused .
Thankfully, his heart recovered. He straightened, and Vivienne then began to walk down the aisle with a large smile on her face. He couldn’t help but mirror her happiness as he did, indeed, look at her as if he’d only seen her for the first time that morning.
He gazed at her with awe-filled eyes, admiring the way her skirts flowed around her with every step, the way her hair framed her lovely face, the way she exuded grace and poise with even the smallest movements.
This woman was going to be his wife . He still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it, as he was in a daze of disbelieving happiness.
Vivienne. His childhood friend. His sweetheart. The mother of his future child. He wanted to experience all of life’s joys with her by his side.
Her father guided her hand into his and clasped them together beneath both of his, emotion surprisingly wavering in his eyes.
“You take good care of her,” he murmured, emotion also thick in his throat. Vivienne would be the first to marry of all her siblings, and Edward supposed that giving her away likely was not easy.
“I will,” he promised.
And then the warlord took a seat at the front of the chapel next to his brother—the king—and the rest of his family. But Edward couldn’t divert his attention from Vivienne for long. His smile grew, the warmth in his heart burning him in the most pleasant way as he gazed into the rich brown of her eyes.
“You were right,” she whispered.
“About what?”
“You looked at me as if you hadn’t seen me already.”
He chuckled and squeezed her hands. “I’m quite sure that’s how I always look at you. I am rather smitten with you.”
A beautiful, rosy blush filled her cheeks as the priestess began her short sermon. When she finished, he and Vivienne spoke their vows, to love and cherish and respect one another through sickness and through health.
Edward’s heart pricked with emotion and immense gratitude when Vivienne gave a wholehearted “I do” to promise to love him even through sickness. His body was not strong. Perhaps it would never be. But for her to stay by his side through the thick and thin of it meant more to him than she could ever know.
They exchanged rings, and the priestess confirmed them husband and wife, instructing him to now kiss his bride.
Rather than a kiss, Vivienne threw her arms around his neck and held him tight as the audience clapped and whistled. And he couldn’t help but return the embrace with a fierce, loving hold. He loved her more than anything in the entire world.
Finally, when they parted, he gently placed his hands on either side of her face and drew her in for a kiss. The audience cheered even louder, but all he could focus on was his beautiful, incredible wife as he kissed her once and then again, his heart full to bursting with love.
They had found each other again. And this time, he never planned to let her go.