Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Edmund noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was a flash of movement that he might have ignored if he were back in London, for that city was a place of constant movement. Out here, however, in the sleeping, motionless meadows, there was only one thing that movement could mean.
Rose had slipped.
There was a cry of surprise that startled the mother and her foal, although Strum and Pluck remained unbothered and were not distracted from their drink.
Edmund moved swiftly, stretching out his arms as he threw himself forward.
Rose landed in his arms, but his momentum drove him forward, and he was unable to stop himself from falling as well.
He twisted his body to ensure that he bore the brunt of the impact, but he only realized at the last moment that he was heading toward the shallow water at the edge of the lake.
They landed with a splash. The water wasn’t deep, but it was cold. It seeped beneath his coat and into his breeches, and the long, wet grass tickled his back. As he fell and lost his footing, he twisted to the side, and Rose landed in the water as well.
She reached out a hand to steady herself, but it disappeared beneath the water, and half her body ended up soaked through. They stared at each other for a heartbeat, and he thought she might erupt with anger, castigating him for ruining her dress and making a fool of herself.
Instead, she laughed.
It was a sweet sound, one that perfectly matched the lightness of the day and the gentle ambiance of the meadow.
Edmund pulled up his hand, and water dripped from his fingers and sleeve.
He plucked out his handkerchief from his pocket, the very same one that she had returned to him, and found that it was sodden as well.
Even so, he used it to wipe his hands.
“I am not sure this is very effective,” he admitted in a wry tone, and Rose seemed to find this remark absolutely hilarious.
The laughter continued to bubble out of her.
Her cheeks became rosy, and her body shook powerfully, sending ripples across the water.
She clasped her hands together, and Edmund couldn’t help but laugh either.
Joy spread across his face, and he laughed so hard that he felt a pain in his side. He pushed the handkerchief back into his pocket, and it made a squelching sound that made them both laugh again.
Strum and Pluck lifted their heads and looked at them curiously.
“They must think we’ve lost our minds,” Edmund said after a time.
“Perhaps we have. I thought you were taking me for a ride today, not a swim.”
“The entire lake is at your beck and call, my lady.”
She drew back. Edmund studied her. The water settled upon her face, making it glisten as though she were made of marble.
Her eyes seemed brighter, her lips fuller.
He followed a drop of water as it ran down her cheek and lingered on her chin before it dropped.
Strands of hair were matted against her forehead, the color darkened by water.
And her dress was now clinging to her so that it seemed no thicker than a shadow.
It clung to her form, tracing the gentle lines of her figure. His throat tightened, and a burst of fire rushed through the core of his body.
He felt his gaze lingering upon her, and he tore it away, reminding himself again that he must retain control. He could not allow this situation to get out of hand or Rose to keep getting under his skin.
The laughter faded, and he began to move. Water sloughed off his body as he stood up.
“We should probably rise before the toads become suspicious of us. They might believe we are here to claim their territory.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” she said.
He held out his hand. She took it. Their fingers were damp, but he could feel the softness of her skin and the warmth that simmered beneath her flesh. He pressed her palm as he lifted her up. Water dripped from her dress.
“It’s a shame you did not come accompanied by a chaperone. She might have carried some spare clothing,” Edmund said.
“I suppose I will just have to muddle through. At least the day is temperate,” she said, looking up to make sure that there were no grim clouds lurking in the sky. Not that it would have made much difference. They were wet enough already.
When she looked up, Edmund noticed the curve of her neck and the hollow of her throat, which once again shimmered with a lingering sheen of water. There was something enticing about it, something that played with his mind. He fought to regain his composure as they moved away from the lake.
The foal and its mother were gamboling away, leaving them alone with Strum and Pluck.
“Would you like to return home?” he asked, expecting that she would, and what a relief that would be for him to escape this unwanted trial of conflicting emotions.
“I am not sure it would be best for me to return in such a state. Perhaps we could sit for a while. The breeze and the sun will dry us,” she said.
Edmund opened his palm, and they returned to drier ground.
“I would offer you my jacket, but I am afraid it is not fit for purpose at the moment,” he said. He took off the uncomfortably damp garment and wrung it in his hands. Water squeezed out of it and trickled near his feet.
“I hope you are not seeking to create a lake here as well,” Rose said.
Edmund realized what he was doing and then cast his jacket aside. He stretched out his arms, allowing the breeze to ripple around him in the hope that it would dry his thin shirt.
“I believe one lake is enough,” he said.
“I agree.”
“So you spoke of how your mother took you to the countryside. What did you do with your father?” Edmund asked.
“He loved museums and models. He would take me all around London, and we’d spend hours looking at the exhibits.
We never got through all of them in a single visit, so we kept returning.
He was always thrilled when they announced a new exhibit, and we were often the first in line.
At home, he would often involve me in his model-making; my small fingers were good for delicate work.
He never let me paint them; I wasn’t skilled enough for that, but I could handle all of the small pieces. ”
“I see, and is that something you do together now?”
“Not so much,” she said, and Edmund wondered if he detected a hint of regret in her voice. “You would have hated it, being dragged around all those museums.”
“I imagine so. The thought is enough to make me shudder. What on earth possessed him to visit them on so many occasions?”
“I asked him the same thing myself once because there were so many things to do in London, and yet we only ever seemed to visit the same places over and over again. He told me he liked learning about other people because he could imagine a life beyond his own. Now that I think about it, he always seemed to dream of being in another place and time. I wonder if he is unhappy about the life he has.”
“Perhaps, but I am sure he isn’t unhappy about the people in his life,” Edmund said, feeling an urge to reassure her. She flashed him a grateful smile, and it was the first time they spoke without bickering or arguing, while their voices were calm.
“I like to think so, although…” she trailed away, catching herself before she could continue.
“Although what?”
“I cannot say. It goes against the rule of not speaking about marriage,” she caught his eye with a measured gaze and then continued speaking. “What of your happy memories with your parents? Did you do different things with each of them?”
Edmund looked into his lap to hide the frown that crinkled his brow.
It was always difficult for him to talk about his parents, yet in this instance, if he refused, Rose would undoubtedly ask why he was so reluctant to speak of them, especially because Lydia clearly did not have such qualms. Perhaps it was simply best to offer her a small fragment of his past to placate her.
A little piece would hardly hurt him too much, after all.
“No, we always liked to do things together. There were some moments I spent with them alone, but the other was never very far. On the lake, for example, father and I would row the boat while mother would be on the lake with Charlotte and Lydia, watching and waving at us. We were always in nature, either in the garden or in the country, although our garden was big enough that at times it felt like the countryside.”
“Really?”
Edmund nodded. “Our parents made sure of it. They were never really built for the trappings of London, which I suppose is why they went off on so many expeditions together.”
“Did they ever take you?” she asked.
Edmund swallowed a lump in his throat. “No. They said it was too dangerous, and they wanted to make sure we kept to our routine. In truth, I sometimes wonder if they realized we would find it so exciting that we would never be able to concentrate on anything ordinary again. I was supposed to go with them, though. They promised me that the next time they went, I would be old enough to join them. Only… You know what happened.”
His tone faded as he referenced the fatal expedition that took his parents from him.
“I am sorry it happened. It was a tragedy.”
“Yes, a tragedy,” he repeated, though a harshness tinged his words, hinting at something deeper.
His hands trembled with anger, and he pressed them into the ground, twining blades of grass around his fingers before ripping them up.
A shadow crossed his face, and he clenched his jaw.
He felt a burning knot inside him, something that ran as deep as his blood.
It terrified him.
Before Rose could ask him anything more about his parents, he pushed himself to his feet and walked away a few paces, back to face the lake. She followed moments later, coming to stand beside him.
“I am curious about something, Edmund,” she said.
There was a sinking feeling in his heart as he anticipated another question about his parents or his childhood.
The afternoon had actually been pleasant for a change, and now it was all going to be ruined because she couldn’t stop herself from asking about something that was none of her business to know.
However, he found that his assumptions were mistaken.
“Why did you never leave London?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just that you have never made a secret of the fact that you disagree with the expectations placed on you.
You mock tradition at every turn and seem indifferent to many things.
Since you appear to want to enjoy life to the fullest, it strikes me that you would rather be traveling the world like an explorer.
While I am sure many men might have such ambitions, you are someone who has the means to turn them into reality.
Since you are free from marriage and have the advantage of being a man, why have you not ventured out into the world? ”
It was a prescient question, and one that Edmund had asked himself many times over the past few years. He always came back, circling the same answer.
“Because I am not as free as you may think, Rose. I have my sisters and my estate. I cannot leave them, not until they are both married. Charlotte now has Nathaniel, and I am sure it will not be long until Lydia is married, considering she has had her heart set on it since she was a child. Once I can be certain that they have secure lives, then the circumstances of my life can change,” he said in a hoarse voice.
It was the first time he had admitted this plan to anyone.
“Then you are going to leave,” Rose said, the hint of surprise in her voice. “Does Lydia know?”
“Nobody knows,” Edmund snapped. “And nobody can know. You’re right.
I am tired of London, and I have been waiting for a long time to leave, but I was never going to leave my estate while my sisters depended on me.
I have been trapped by responsibility and duty, and so I have had to put my life on hold.
I cannot start living until Lydia’s future is secure. ”
The words poured out of his mouth in a torrent of emotion, and the force of them took even him by surprise. They certainly took Rose by surprise, for she recoiled back.
“I am sure if Lydia were aware, she would find a suitable man soon enough.”
“No,” Edmund said, cutting Rose’s words off immediately. “She must choose for herself when the time is right. I want her to make the decision because it is right for her, not for anyone else. She deserves that much.”
Edmund breathed heavily. He felt he had revealed too much to Rose and now had to rely on her discretion so that Lydia would not learn of his ambitions. Tension rippled across his body again, so uncomfortable that he had lost sight of the dampness that itched his skin.
Once again, it had been a mistake to come to this quiet place with Rose. He should have left as soon as they emerged from the lake.
This was all getting far too complicated for his liking, and he did not appreciate it. Not one bit.