Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
A Host of Bailey’s
Bash
Always question the man who values power above all else; he has already forgotten what makes him human.
— The Mysterious Deep: A Comprehensive Understanding
Knowing Rose and then Oscar, it was easy to deduce that the Baileys were not the ordinary autocracy of London. Meeting them only confirmed my suspicions. I would have wagered the wraith herself that no family in London laughed as much as the Baileys.
“We had to force her onto the pony, and the whole time she’s begging it not to eat her.” Oscar laughed, tears falling from his eyes.
“I’ll give you all the carrots you could ever want, just please don’t eat me.” Oliver Bailey clapped Oscar on the back as he fought to breathe through his laughter.
“You two are terrible to poor Rose.” Lady Bailey said, though she was fighting her own smile.
“I don’t like horses,” Rose grumbled with her arms crossed.
She sank a little closer into the sofa we sat on, and I fought the urge to pull her into me. To kiss her forehead and tell her I’d give her a horse as a marriage present. However, I couldn’t bring myself to tease her when she was halfway to becoming one with the couch.
“Oliver said I was a natural at my riding lessons,” Rebecca said, chin rising with pride.
“But he said that to me as well,” Ramona said.
The twins, who were entirely indistinguishable from each other, turned incredulous glances to their oldest brother. His laughter died, and he cleared his throat, wrestling with his cravat.
“Two things can be true at once,” he said.
It was hard to see the same Oliver Bailey who glared at me between jail bars, but I understood him better than most men.
Forever the oldest Bailey, he loved his family with a fierceness that rivaled the sun.
He was unlikely to ever like me, but it wouldn’t be for my lack of character.
Instead, it was because of the threat I’d always be to Rose as well as Oscar. I could respect that.
“You two should know by now that Oliver wouldn’t tell you if you were horrid. You two are his weakness.” Ruby smiled, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder.
George Hardy was a stocky man with calloused hands that gave away his class status. He may have married into the Bailey family, but he was a worker. It was in his firm handshake and the stubbled face that smiled too easily, though that may have been a symptom of Bailey's house.
“To be fair, they are adorable,” Oscar said, flashing a smile at the twins.
“They are not,” Roberta said, huffing out a long breath.
There was a hardness to Roberta that didn’t match the other Baileys.
Even Richard Bailey was more solemn than the rest, but that was because his mind worked quickly, plotting and calculating every new word.
I was willing to bet the young man was bordering on genius, though he said little.
Roberta, though, was different. She often watched Rose as she was being teased, cheeks crimson with jealousy.
Eighteen was a hard age. Eager to belong, but unsure of who you were.
“So about the wedding-,” Oscar said, voice too high like he rehearsed this line.
I glanced at him, and he shrugged his shoulders in what I’d come to learn was an apology from him.
So be it. The sun had long since set, and we could only avoid it for so long.
Overall, the day went much better than I expected.
I’d been worried Rose would try too hard to be who she thought she needed to be, but instead she settled into herself, confident and stunning.
“What about it?” Lady Bailey said, holding her teacup.
“I was hoping it could be next week. I know it’s soon, but it’s better this way. We can honeymoon while the weather is still nice. I was hoping for a small ceremony anyway. You know I don’t do well with people to begin with. Plus, you don’t have to spend forever planning. I just think-”
“Rosamund, stop talking, please.” Lady Bailey said, a small smile working on her lips. “You don’t have to explain. We can manage just fine if that's what you want.”
Rose sat up straighter, staring at her mother with an open mouth. “You aren’t worried about what people will say?”
Leaning forward, Lady Bailey set down her teacup and folded her arms in her lap.
“I don’t care what people will think. All I care about is what will make you happy,” she said.
Whenever Rose spoke of her mother, there was love, but it was easy to see that Rose feared she would never live up to her expectations.
Whatever she believed her mother wanted from her, she was wrong.
Seeing her now, watching her daughter and all her children, it couldn’t be more evident.
The only thing Ophelia Bailey wanted was for her children to be happy.
The knowledge was poison as much as it was reassuring.
I tried very hard not to think about my own mother, but moments like this made her brown eyes flash in my mind.
It would remind me that her likeness faded from my memory more every year that passed, no matter how much I tried to nurture it.
She would have loved Rose. The two of them would have been as thick as thieves.
As always happened when I thought of her, I was reminded why she was gone.
Remember who was responsible for her death.
Rose threaded her arm through mine, and her green eyes asked what she couldn’t.
I took a steadying breath, remembering what I had instead of what I didn’t. She was enough. More than enough. I could do this. I could live for her.
“It’s getting late,” she said.
I nodded. “So it is.”
My knees protested rising, and it was clear I would struggle to regain the muscle I once had before my time in prison. A few hours sitting, and it was a monumental task just to rise.
“Thank you, Lady Bailey, for a perfect day. It’s been an honour to be welcomed into your beautiful home.” I said, bowing my head. “Lord Bailey, I hope to be able to see your docks whenever you have time.”
Lord Bailey beamed, standing and shaking my hand firmly.
“Name the day, son,” he said.
It was easy to see how Lord Bailey agreed to receive his payments from his partner without receipts. He was a kind-hearted and trusting man. He and Oscar were two sides to the same coin.
“Monday?” I asked.
“That will work just fine for me,” he said.
Detangling from all the Baileys was its own feat, but as Rose led me downstairs, I found that it was a shame to leave them all.
It was inconceivable to have grown up in a home with as much love and support.
Even though they may not have understood Rose as she deserved, they loved her with a ferocity that was beautiful.
The instant she opened the door, the cold air rushed in a fury. London winters were harsh, and even despite the fine clothes I now wore, I couldn’t forget what it meant to be poor at this time of year.
“You were incredible,” Rose whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. “Even when Rebecca asked you if you lost your arm to a tiger.”
Her teeth began to chatter, so I wrapped my coat around her shoulders. She sank into murmuring something that was halfway between a thank you and a groan of approval.
“You should go inside,” I said.
All night, I resisted the urge to touch her, but with just us outside, I couldn’t convince myself someone might see. Reaching up, I ran the back of my finger over her cheek and jawline. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes.
“If I go back inside, they will all tease me mercilessly. I think I’ll take my chances with the cold.” She chattered.
“You’re freezing.” I reminded her.
She opened her eyes and reached up, grabbing my hand and holding it between both of hers.
“Are you going back to the Wraith?” she asked.
I nodded. In fact, Oscar would be down any minute to meet me to make for Corpse Cove. Despite the comforts of Bailey's house, Inu was at home. Just as Rose was mine.
“Don’t touch my flag,” she glared up at me.
God, I wanted to kiss her. Polite society be damned. One glance up at the manor showed two small heads dashing behind the sheer white curtain.
“We are being watched,” I smiled.
Rose frowned and shoved a pointed finger in my chest that stung more than it should have.
“Don’t change the subject. Promise you won’t touch the flag,” she ordered.
With her upturned nose and round green eyes, she was far more adorable than fierce as she drowned in my coat.
“It’s my ship,” I said.
She stepped forward, and it took all my willpower not to pull her into me.
“Meet me at the Siren tomorrow night?” she asked.
I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger, making sure to memorize every freckle and curve of her.
“You could come back with me to the Wraith tonight.” I teased.
She huffed out a breath. “If only. Tell everyone I said hi and remind them I’m still the captain.”
This woman.
“A captain who has to declare themselves captain is no captain at all,” I said.
Rolling her eyes, she pulled off my jacket and shoved it at my chest.
“Good night, Edward,” she said.
I would never get used to anyone, including her, calling me by the name my mother gave me. Too many years spent as Flynn made it sound foreign. I hadn’t stopped long enough to begin to unravel how I felt about it. Maybe someday, when I was old and gray, I would have time to sort it out.
“Good night, Princess,” I said, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.
How strange life was to go from living for dying to living for the sake of living.
Now that I was awake, I wasn’t going to risk losing it. Which meant the Wraith needed to be ready to sail in one week's time. I still didn’t know what Edmonds needed from his bargain with Rose, but she needed to be released from the bargain they made.
I couldn’t help but feel Edmonds orchestrated this exactly as he intended.