Chapter 34
E dward knew he should be relieved that the day of the wedding was almost upon them and the circus would soon be leaving town. But that also meant she would soon be leaving too.
The idea made him feel sick. Rarely a moment passed that Scarlett didn’t cross his thoughts– a turn of phrase, a memory of her smile, something he’d see or hear that made him think, Would Scarlett like that? Or Would she find that funny? Or What would Scarlett think about this? On and on it went.
Considering how little time they had spent together, his visceral reaction to the situation, to her, made little sense to him.
It made him angry with his past, the world, and himself in particular.
So, he did what he did best and leaned into everyone’s least favourite characteristic of his: his pig-headed stubbornness.
He’d bat each thought away like a midge, and during the day it was a relatively easy feat as he would be up before five am, filling the hours with various tasks, particularly anything that took him outside.
His current favourite pastime was taking a more active interest in forestry and game management.
As a child, he’d always found game hunting barbaric and that hadn’t changed as he became an adult.
He hadn’t allowed any hunts on his land to take place after his father’s death.
Instead, he tirelessly researched more effective and ethical ways to manage the ecosystem of the estate, and trudging through the woods, he once again mulled over the idea of introducing a couple of lynxes.
Maybe this would be the year to do it. It was a more unorthodox way of doing things, but they were adaptable and able to make their new environment their home without much hassle.
They also shied away from humans, could share the estate with other species, and were a good natural predator.
He was enthusiastic about the idea, but Andrzej wasn’t sure how their neighbours would feel.
Edward decided he would have a conversation about it at the next meeting.
Besides, he had enough to get on with. So far, he’d done an inventory to ensure the woodlands were in good health, including checking that they’d planted enough vegetation that year, monitoring water sources, and overlooking the various animal habitats they’d installed over the summer.
Andrzej had put up numerous bird and bat boxes and Edward had created more log piles in the past couple of days, too.
There was plenty to do to keep him occupied and away from the house.
He was always on hand to carry out duties on the estate and had a detailed overview, but he was visibly more active than usual.
However, he avoided any direct contact with Andrzej, who he knew could read his mood well enough and, much like the rest of the household, was giving him a wide berth.
Besides, he still wasn’t sure what he’d seen in June’s apartment.
Was Andrzej having boiler issues, so June invited him over to take a hot shower?
Was she treating him to a meal, and he spilled something on himself?
Or was there something else going on? He didn’t like it– everything was out of sync with his usual rhythm and although he didn’t begrudge his staff having personal lives, he expected to be kept in the dark about it.
Although wasn’t it he who had intruded on them, not vice versa?
Again, he swatted the thoughts away. They weren’t welcome.
He could see through the dense canopy of the trees above him that the sky was darkening; a chill was taking hold of him.
He was tiring, yet he didn’t particularly look forward to the evening.
As was usually the case, when the house fell silent and he tried to sleep, feeling his most vulnerable, particularly when the usual respite of unconsciousness evaded him, thoughts of Scarlett returned, and even when he finally drifted off, there she was, waiting for him in his dreams.
Everything in him ached for her. It was like a whole new level of torture, which left him feeling physically and mentally exhausted.
Upon entering the house via the boot room, he strained his ears for any activity.
Save for the usual kitchen noises, he didn’t hear anyone so quietly made his way towards his rooms.
His shoulders slumped when the library door opened and Ana?se appeared, beaming a smile in his direction.
“Finally, Edward! Please join me for a moment,” she said, taking hold of his arm and leading him inside.
He contemplated pulling his arm loose and walking back out, but he was cold and tired, and the warmth of the crackling fire was too much to resist.
“What is it?” he asked, as she signalled for him to take the armchair across from the one she’d been sitting in, judging by the blanket discarded over the arm.
“This port you have is divine– here, I’ve got a glass ready for you. Sit.”
Edward raised his eyebrow, suspicious of what was coming next, but he took the glass and sat down, briefly closing his eyes.
Fuck , he was tired.
“We need to have a little talk, Edward,” Ana?se said as she sat back in her chair, pulling the blanket over her curled-up legs.
“We do?” Edward looked at her steadily.
“Y’all have that steely look running through your family, but it doesn’t have any effect on me. You should know that.” Ana?se shrugged. “Besides, I’ve just invited you to sit and have a drink with your future sister-in-law. Nothing to get your back up about.”
Edward didn’t respond or change his facial expression, making Ana?se roll her eyes.
Always with the theatre, he thought.
“First, I wanted to say thank you. You have been immensely generous and gracious, letting us all invade your home and allowing us to have the wedding here. I don’t know you very well.
You’ve kinda made sure of that.” She winked to show she was being good-natured, making Edward shrug and nod in concession.
She continued, “But I realise that this hasn’t been easy for you to accommodate and I wanted to personally make sure you know how grateful I am– we are– that you’ve allowed it.”
Edward hadn’t been expecting this, and his face must have softened, because Ana?se smiled at him, seemingly pleased it had the desired effect. She then sat back, taking a drink from her glass, looking into the fire.
Edward did the same. “The house hasn’t had this much life in it for a while. It’s good for it to be in use,” he finally said.
“None of us fare well alone and abandoned,” Ana?se responded.
Edward looked across at her and noticed she was talking to herself more than him, and for the first time since meeting her, he saw past the blonde mass of hair, high-pitched laughter, and obscene demands.
He realised there was a sadness he couldn’t quite put his finger on and a depth of feeling she seemed to keep hidden behind her childlike attitude to everything, and he wondered why she did that.
“No, I don’t suppose we do,” he replied, moving his attention back to the fire. “You’re welcome, by the way, and you know, I’m not quite the miserable old bastard I make myself out to be, or that others might tell you I am.”
Ana?se laughed quietly. “You give off that impression quite well all by yourself, Edward.”
Edward smiled. “That’s fair.”
“I don’t think that’s an accurate depiction of who you really are, though, and you hide behind it. Safer that way, I guess. But it must get lonely after a while.” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“No different to hiding behind superficial conversations, high-pitched giggles, and copious amounts of alcohol.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Oooh, touché.” Ana?se laughed. “And he bites.”
“And no doubt she stings.” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at her.
“I can, but I don’t tend to waste my energy on that anymore. Life is too short.” She waved the idea away with her hand.
“So, you’re now diverting your energy into marriage instead?” Edward returned his gaze to her, suddenly curious about the woman he was soon to consider family.
Ana?se’s smile faded, just a little. “Something like that, yeah.”
“Whatever floats your boat, I suppose.”
Ana?se looked down into her glass for a moment before brightening up again. “Oh well, it’s something to do, I guess.”
“Indeed.” Edward watched Ana?se’s eyes glaze over. That was the honest exchange over, and it was obvious she was relapsing back into the status quo. “Well, if that’s all, I need to get showered and changed.”
“Will you be joining us for dinner, then?” Ana?se’s face lightened.
Edward drained his glass, placed it on the small table between them, and shook his head. “No, I have work to do.”
Ana?se nodded slowly. “Very well.”
“I’ll say goodnight, then.” He stood and gave her a curt smile.
“Edward?” Ana?se said as he reached the door.
“Yes?” He looked back and saw her staring at him.
“We don’t get many chances at real happiness, you know. And I’m a firm believer that we only get presented with a limited number of opportunities to find it in people, maybe once or potentially twice– if we’re really lucky.”
“Right, okay.” Edward furrowed his brow, turning to leave again.
“You’d be a real fool to let yours pass you by,” she added.
Edward paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.
“Goodnight, Edward,” Ana?se said, turning back to look at the fire, which was now crackling angrily.
“Goodnight,” he said again, his voice small and barely audible. But Ana?se wasn’t listening anymore, her thoughts clearly absorbed by the burning embers in front of her.
Edward walked towards his rooms, slightly dazed with a diminished sense of purpose and determination. Ana?se’s words had shifted something inside him. Was that what Scarlett was– his last chance at happiness?
When Lily was born, he’d felt it, but his wedding and subsequent marriage hadn’t been a happy one, and although some of his past relationships and trysts had brought him elements of enjoyment in various forms, happiness was not something he’d attributed to any of them.
For a long time, Edward had concluded that happiness was overrated, superfluous, and temporary– there for only brief moments in time.
But that way of thinking was beginning to feel a bit like a lie– one he’d been feeding himself over the years to defend his personal choices and protect himself from making poor ones.
This approach kept him inside the carefully constructed bubble he’d created around himself and the estate; he’d handpicked the people inside, like actors in a play, and this was fine, as long as everyone followed the script.
However, Edward saw his players were now improvising– Andrzej and June’s situation was a perfect example of this– and that was probably because his script was feeling old and outdated, and he was potentially the last stubborn player in the cast to realise it.
Or even worse, he’d had very little control over it all in the first place.
He may well see himself as the director of all he surveyed and the people around him, but he wasn’t God.