Chapter 26 #2
His words left me breathless, but I turned away, shame burning my cheeks. “I’m not that woman anymore, Edmond. I’m a nobody now. I have no money, no title, no social standing. If anything, I’m not worthy of you.”
“I don’t care about any of that, Helena. I never have.” I looked back up at him, and his gaze softened. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
I rolled my eyes. “How could I forget? It was the first time a man ever recoiled from me.”
“No.” He drew a breath. “We met long before that.”
“We did? When?”
“Ten years ago. At Rosemont.”
“Rosemont? You mean, the Pratts’ residence?”
He nodded. “In the hedge maze.”
“That’s not possible…” But my voice fell away as the final pieces to Edmond’s puzzle fell into place. His low birth, his garden, the maid I’d seen on his doorstep.
The memory hit me like cannon fire. On that awful day, ten years ago, a boy in servant’s clothes found me in the hedge maze and gave me a jasmine flower plucked from the garden to cheer me up.
“You’re that boy,” I breathed. “The one with the flower.”
Edmond’s eyes never left mine. “I was just a servant then. I worked in the gardens under a man named Jenkins. He practically raised me. He scolded me every time I got distracted while watching you whenever you visited Miss Pratt.”
I let out a laugh in disbelief. “It really was you. How—how is that possible?”
I thought back to that day, to the servant boy who knelt in front of me as I cried, twisting a small, white flower between his fingers.
It had been Edmond, though I hadn’t realized it until now.
He’d been caked in dirt, and his hair was cut so short that I couldn’t see its color.
I should have recognized his green eyes, but that day was wrapped in so much grief and anger that I could hardly see anything beyond the red stains on my dress.
Everything made so much more sense now. It wasn’t just that he was the illegitimate son of a drunken commoner…
he was a servant. A servant for one of the most prestigious families in London, a family he was now supposed to marry into.
Surely the Pratts didn’t recognize him. If they had, they wouldn’t be marrying their daughter off to him.
On top of it all, if the truth ever came out, anyone associated with Edmond would be shunned.
His business dealings would suffer, for no man of high breeding would take him seriously.
He would be exiled from society forever.
Just like I was.
A sad smile graced my lips as I asked a question I already knew the answer to. “Your mother was the maid Sybella got dismissed, wasn’t she?”
He nodded. “The maid you stood up for.”
“You saw that?”
His expression grew tender. “My mother lost her job because of Mrs. Pratt’s injustice, and we suffered for it. But you tried to stop her, even as a child. Why do you think I followed you into the hedge maze? Not many young ladies of your station would defend a maid.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were before?”
He gave a small shrug. “I wanted you to see me for who I am now, not who I was. I—I wasn’t sure you’d accept me if you knew from the start.”
I hated to admit it, but he was right. If I had known from day one that he was a servant for the Pratts, it likely would have changed the way I viewed him. I didn’t like what that said about me.
Edmond reached for my hands, holding them gently in his. “I don’t regret all that I’ve done to get here, Helena. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but you’ve helped me see that I don’t have to be someone I’m not. Which is why I stand here before you now, offering myself as I am.”
I lifted my hand to caress his jaw, which was still cold from the river. A small breath escaped his lips as my warm skin met his, but he didn’t pull away.
“It’s nice to see you again, Edmond,” I whispered. “To truly see you.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m sorry all I could give you then was a flower, and not a pony.”
I frowned, my hand dropping to my side. “Pony?”
“You remember… after I gave you the flower, there was another boy who came into the hedge maze. He was the son of a marquess, I believe. He offered to buy you a pony to cheer you up. And you left with him.” I blinked at Edmond, and he blew out a disbelieving laugh. “Wait—you don’t remember this?”
“Not in the slightest,” I answered truthfully. “Did I really leave you behind and go with him?”
“Yes, you did!” Edmond pushed his wet hair off his forehead.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember. That was the moment I realized I had to change everything about my life.
All I could offer you then was a flower I’d picked from someone else’s garden.
So I vowed that day I’d become more than a gardener—I’d become a king if that’s what it took. ”
“Tell me you weren’t considering regicide.”
“Luckily it didn’t come to that.”
I laughed. “And that day you recoiled from me? Whatever was that about?”
He blushed. “I had just come into London. I had obtained your address and wanted to pass by your residence, hoping to catch a glimpse into your life, nothing more. But when I saw you across the street, I realized I was sorely unprepared, and I—well, I fled.”
I shook my head with a smile. “You could have saved us quite a bit of hassle if you had just introduced yourself.”
“I don’t think you understand the courage it takes a man to even approach you, Helena.
” His hands closed tighter around mine. The touch sent sparks of heat up my arm and through my body.
“I’ve spent years trying to become a person worthy of standing by your side.
But as I’ve come to know you, the real you, I’ve realized I don’t need to be the perfect gentleman.
All I need to be is the man who loves you. ”
The breath fled my lungs. “Forgive me—but, I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”
“I said I love you, Helena Weston.” He leaned forward so close I could smell the river water on him. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but I wasn’t about to let that ruin the moment.
“Why didn’t you say so before?” I asked, breathless. “There were so many opportunities.”
“I got it into my thick head that you had to say it first.” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw.
“There were so many times I wanted to tell you how I felt—and nearly did. But I knew if I said it too soon, before you loved me back, then I’d be risking everything.
The only way I could ensure success was by hearing you confess your love before I did. ”
My heart sank. Edmond had loved me all this time, and yet he had been waiting for me to say it first. The cruel irony settled over me—I, too, had been holding back, waiting for him to confess.
I looked at Edmond, really looked at him, and for the first time, I saw the entirety of him.
Not just the arrogant competitor I’d first met, nor the wealthy gentleman he’d become.
Beneath those surface layers was a brave boy who had lost his father and built a life from nothing, who had defied every obstacle and risen against the odds, who had grown into the deeply selfless man standing before me now, willing to give it all up—for me.
“I love you too, Edmond,” I said softly. “I love all of you.”
One would have thought I’d shot the man. Edmond froze, his face blank and his knees buckling slightly. But then he seemed to remember how to breathe again, and his crooked grin slowly spread across his features.
“May I kiss you, Helena Weston?” he asked.
“Here?” I glanced around. “Between the fish crates?”
“Is that where we are?” His heated gaze was trained on me. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I swallowed, my eyes trailing down past his lips and to the rapid rise and fall of his chest, which was made painfully apparent by the thin fabric of his undershirt that clung to his water-slicked frame.
A voice in my head scolded me. What kind of unmarried lady would allow herself to be kissed in a filthy alley by the docks?
No, I told the voice. There was no shame in being here with Edmond. This was my choice, not my father’s. Let propriety shatter.
I grabbed his shirt with one hand and pulled him toward me. “Then kiss me, Edmond Hawke,” I ordered, “before I resort to kissing you.”
He loosed a tight breath, then cupped my cheek in his hand. His skin was deliciously warm despite the cold water.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time,” he said, his lips barely an inch from mine.
His soft breath curled against my skin. My entire body shuddered with warmth as his hand tightened around my waist. He pulled me closer until nothing separated our bodies but the thin fabric of our damp clothes.
Our lips met like storm waves crashing against a seaside cliff.
Edmond tasted faintly of muddy river water—earthy and real.
I savored it. My hands splayed across his broad chest, absorbing the hammering of his heartbeat.
I arched into him, as if I could share his pulse.
He dropped his other hand from my cheek and wrapped it around my back, his fingers tightening around the cotton of my pelisse as he fit me firmly against his chest. The soaked fabric of his undershirt chilled my skin, but everywhere his body touched, mine burned.
I pulled away just as my breath utterly fled from me. I gulped in air and looked up at Edmond, smiling wider than I ever have. He looked back at me, dazed and just as breathless as I was.
But then a horrible realization came to me.
Before I could even think, I pushed Edmond away and put three steps between us. “I can’t do this.”
His eyes widened. “Helena—I’m sorry if I—I thought you wanted me to—”
“You’re engaged.”
He reached out for me. “I have no intentions of ever talking to Miss Pratt again, much less marrying her.”