Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You seem quite distracted. Are you sure that you can handle the consequences of sparring with a clouded mind?”
Edward ignored the teasing lilt in Thomas’ voice as he tightened the bandages he had wrapped around his hand, flexing slightly to make sure he was not cutting off the circulation of blood completely.
Despite his friend’s playful jabs, Thomas’ gaze held a serious edge to them when Edward, now done with his preparations, faced him from his side of the boxing ring. It had been a while since they had done this and it was imperative that all their focus was trained on the present.
However, as Thomas charged at him, Edward knew his mind was too far from his body. He managed to dodge the fist that swung at him and counter attack with a punch of his own, hissing with regret when Thomas sensed his intentions and blocked his attempts almost immediately.
“You’re not as quick as you usually are, Montford. Are you getting on in age?” Thomas mocked as he gave Edward a once-over.
“I am almost certain you are older than I am, Ravencroft.” Edward pointed out before he started forward suddenly, swinging his fists rapidly twice.
The first was a mere distraction that was headed for Thomas’ face, and when he dodged it successfully, it was too late to see the second that was headed for his torso. Thomas grunted, but grinned, as though he was proud that Edward had managed to land a blow.
“Perhaps it is you who needs to commit his focus to the current task. As I am sure you know, if I win this match, I will be gloating about it to our wives,” Edward taunted, beckoning Thomas closers with a flick of his fingers.
Thomas did not take the bait, his lips pulling into a smirk instead that left an unsettling pit in Edward’s stomach.
“I have no doubt that you will be running all the way to your wife to tell her about your wonderous victory, seeing as you appear to be quite taken with her,” the duke of Ravencroft stating slightly.
“You must be seeing things,” Edward sniffed, pretending to be unaffected by his friend’s words. “You might have something in your eyes, so come closer, let me help you knock it out.”
Thomas did come closer, but he dodged all of Edward’s punches, and even managed to land two of his own. It was nothing that wouldn’t fade in about a moment or two, but it made Edward feel unstable on his feet as he recalled that he had given into Thomas’ cheap attempt at distracting him.
But the fault lay entirely with him, as he had barely managed to keep his thoughts off Phoebe for a few days now.
It was as though after that night at the ball, she had taken up permanent residence in his mind, so greatly ingrained in his thoughts that it felt as though everything in him was fighting to be near her.
No matter how much Edward tried, memories of that night continued to plague his waking hour. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could feel her in his lap, trembling on top of him as her lips parted in pleasure with each thrust.
Edward had never imagined to pretend that he had not had his own fair share of trysts and secret love affairs, however brief they may her been, but she…
his wife was different in every way. It was almost as though he had grown to feel responsible for her as the pioneer of her first experience with pleasure.
But unlike him, she did not seem affected in the slightest.
She carried on with her duties, working hard to keep the estate running immaculately and when she was not fixing something amiss in the house, she was by herself, doing only lord knows what in her chambers.
As far as he could tell, she was not concerned with him in the slightest, which irked Edward to no end.
“My eye sight is fine. How else would I have noticed that you both were missing after the dance you had shared at the ball?” Thomas countered, stepping to the side to avoid the uppercut Edward had thrown his way.
“You are being ridiculous. She had grown weary of the party and wanted to get some fresh air,” Edward gritted out, getting frustrated and out of breath.
“You left in the opposite direction of the doors that led to the gardens, which had been opened all evening. Just admit you have grown to fancy your wife. It is normal to do so,” Thomas shrugged, raising a hand to signal that he was ready to yield the fight.
“I am telling you that you are young. There is no room for such frivolities in our relationship. But… I will admit that I am having a better time than I thought I would be as a husband,” Edward relented, breathing heavily.
“Ah… has she begun dragging you on shopping excursions on the town yet?” Thomas asked with a look of sympathy.
“What? No, I was referring to our… other activities. I would have never expected her to suit my tastes as much as she did. I must admit that I am quite impressed with how compatible we are in that manner,” Edward admitted, accepting the glass of water a steward brought him as he dabbed the sweat off his browns with a towel.
“Oh, I see,” Thomas made a strange face for a moment, then he shrugged, his features smoothening out as though he had accepted what he heard without any fuss.
“Well, that is certainly one way to get about things. But other than that – which I am… glad to hear that you are enjoying immensely – how is married life treating you?”
Edward paused for a moment to consider Thomas’ words.
To be honest, he and Phoebe had not spent a lot of time together, and as such, there was not much between them that would serve as a testament of whether or not things were going well.
Aside from the few minor hiccups they had at the beginning, it would seem as though he could still stand and relish in the brilliance of his decision for a moment longer.
But, there was something that nagged him consistently, like an itch he could not reach to scratch and it plagued him each time he recalled that although they lived together, they were barely a part of each other’s lives.
Even though he had wanted it to be that way from the start, there was a dissatisfaction within him.
I need to remain strong in my stance, he told himself consistently enough, but it was beginning to look as though he was not good at taking his own advice to heart.
“It is fine,” he stated, taking Thomas’ decision to rid himself of his gloves and bandages as a sign that they were done for the day. “She is quite the puzzle, if I do say so, but I cannot say that I have encountered any difficulties dwelling with her. I can only hope things remain the same.”
Thomas sighed, emptying his glass of water and immediately requesting for more.
“Well, I cannot say that will be the case. These situations more often than not have a way of fleeing from us and out of our control. But I am not sure why you would want to hold onto it in the first place. Isn’t life more fun when you surrender yourself to the spontaneity it has to offer? ”
“I cannot afford the mistakes that would come from letting things be,” Edward scoffed incredulously, his body tensing slightly as he recalled how his mother had clung to the hems of his clothes and begged her not to let them take away her love.
He had been helpless to do anything then, but he would not allow that to be the same again. This time, he would protect his wife from that same fate.
“Sometimes, life has a way of handling those ‘mistakes’, more seamlessly than you would imagine. I think that you are worrying too much about the things that are out of your control and perhaps you ought to let go of such notions. If you cannot trust me with your concerns, then you should lean on your wife. I understand that you have lived your life doing everything in your power to appeal to others as someone with an immovable strength and remarkable resilience, but that is not to say that you must live out the rest of your days as a lone mountain. Whatever it is, it can be resolved,” Thomas advised, holding out a glass of water to Edward.
Edward found it utterly ironic that he had spoken to Phoebe about her issues with ignoring her urge to control things – especially the ones that should not even register to a woman of her current standing – and now it seemed as though he was being accused of the very same thing.
He could only wonder how things would end for him in the long run.
“I will consider it,” he told Thomas, surprised to find that he actually meant it.
“That is all I ask, dear friend,” Thomas grinned. “I look forward to beating you properly next time.”
“You can continue to have such grand dreams, dear friend. They suit you quite well,” Edward mocked, deciding it was probably time he went home.
The house had begun to look and feel somewhat warmer and much more homely since Phoebe begun her role as the duchess. It amazed him endlessly, how much work she had put into renovating different parts of the house and redecorating, even though he had not asked her to.
He had wondered on several different occasions if perhaps their agreement truly was unequal on as many levels as it seemed, but then Phoebe still appeared content to do what was expected of her without much of a fight, going above and beyond as well.
And while he wished to find solace in the fact that he had not asked that of her – not expressly and as such, he held no direct influence over her decisions – the guilt occasionally bothered him.
“Your Grace, good afternoon,” the housekeeper greeted him as he walked down the hallway that led to his study. “I trust you had a wonderful day out.”
“It was excellent, but I have to suspend my intents to parade around London bragging about my win because my sparring partner has requested a rematch. Can you believe the audacity, Maude? It seems I must show that man that he must not trust that because his age would give any sort of advantage over me,” Edward stated resolutely, wondering if he should send a letter to the Ravencroft estate with his determination to beat Thomas thoroughly in its pages, and have it delivered directly to the duchess.
He had no doubt the entire affair would amuse Jane immensely.
“That sounds like a grand idea, Your Grace. I have no doubt that victory will be yours,” Maude stated hurriedly as he opened the door to his study. “That being said, there is a problem, Your Grace and w-we think only you would be able to resolve it.”
It was in that moment that Edward realized the older woman had been walking after him, clearly not wanting to interrupt his silly rant, even though whatever she wanted to say was quite important.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” he queried with a frown.
She glanced sideways briefly and leaned in close.
“It’s the duchess. Her Grace has not had anything to eat all day.
She has not even ventured out of her room at all!
We’ve offered to bring her meals or tea, but she has turned them all down.
At some point, she stopped answering our knocks at the door. ”
Edward felt his heart sink at the idea that Phoebe might be sick and was refusing to entertain the assistance of any of the staff. If she had been locked up all day, that was not good for her health under any circumstances.
“I will check on her at once,” Edward stated before closing the door to his study.
He quickly turned around and headed in the direction he had come, making his way to Phoebe’s room. When he arrived at the door, he knocked twice, and when he received no response, he tried to turn the handle of the door, irritated when it did not budge.
She had really locked herself inside.
“Phoebe? Phoebe are you all right? Can you hear me?” he called out, rapping against the door with his fist, slightly at first, then louder by the last three times.
She did nor answer, and he grew even more worried. He turned to Maude.
“Did she seem sick last night? Or hurt in any way?”
“N-No Your Grace,” the housekeeper stammered uncertainly. “She seemed fine, but when we came to fetch her for breakfast, she did not leave her room, only stating that she was not hungry. All attempts to bring her refreshments were refused and eventually she stopped answering.”
“You should have sent for a doctor! What if she grew ill and fainted?” Edward snapped as his anxiety continued to grow immensely.
He faced the door and knocked again, his heart thrumming in his ears as he tried not to let his panic win over his reasoning.
Unfortunately, things did not go as he had planned, and in the next moment, he was waving Maude away from the door. And then he slammed himself against it. At first, there was no give, then on his second try, the wood gave way as the lock broke and he stumbled into Phoebe’s room.
His eyes glanced around wildly, half expecting her to be beneath her covers on slumped in a heap on the floor, barely breathing.
Instead, he heard the sounds of a pen on paper, and followed the sound to find Phoebe, in perfect health, seated at her desk. Her eyes were trained on a piece of parchment and her hands clutched a fountain pen that moved across the paper swiftly, almost faster than his eyes could see.
She seemed to be drawing what looked like a cartoonish depiction of couples promenading in the park, their features indistinguishable, but no less human, with their large ears almost pointing in the direction of a man standing on top of a wooden box in the middle of the grass.
She continued to add little detail here and there, more shade to a tree, more definition to a parasol and it looked as though the whole thing might have taken her the whole day to draw.
“Have you been at this all day?”
Phoebe jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around to face him, eyes wide with fright.
“E-Edward? How long have you been standing there?”