Prologue #2
She swallowed. This was the moment, then. Perhaps not as romantic as she might have imagined it. “I think you should tell me why you asked to call on me today.”
They sat, and Edward took her hand in both of his. She watched his face, noting the tension in his expression, the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. He was nervous. That realization steadied her somehow.
“I believe I can trust you, Juliana.”
“Of course you can trust me, Edward. We are friends, are we not?” Her brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He drew a deep breath. “I consider you my dearest friend. I adore you and I would very much like for you to consider becoming my wife.”
The words hung in the air between them. She’d known they were coming, had prepared herself for this moment, but she opened her mouth to respond. She was going to say yes, because how could she say no to the person who had become most dear to her. But Edward held up a hand.
“There are some things you should know before you give me your answer.” He glanced around the garden, then closed his eyes as if steadying himself.
“I cannot offer you a marriage of passion or love beyond friendship. But I can offer you security and your freedom. You will not have to worry about a husband who would treat you poorly or control you. You may live as you wish, and should you ever… wish to find companionship elsewhere, I would not object. Provided you maintain discretion.”
Juliana blinked. Then blinked again. Find companionship elsewhere? Her mind struggled to make sense of what he was saying. Why would he suggest such an arrangement?
“I don’t understand, Edward. Why would you wish to marry me if you don’t want a marriage in truth…including companionship?”
“It’s not that simple.” He didn’t meet her eyes, but his grip on her hand tightened.
Her stomach dropped. “Edward, tell me what it is. I promise I won’t repeat anything you share. I can tell whatever it is weighs heavy on you.”
He placed his other hand on top of their joined ones. She watched emotions flicker across his face—sadness, shame, defeat. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He started to look at her, then looked away.
“Edward,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “I am not certain exactly how to say the words, as I’ve never said them to anyone who wasn’t also like me. I prefer the attention of other men. If you understand my meaning.”
She gulped, uncertain how to respond.
She stared at their joined hands, absorbing what he’d just told her.
The future she’d been trying to imagine—a marriage where affection might gradually kindle into love—had changed in an instant.
But with it came an unexpected sense of clarity.
She hadn’t been in love with Edward. She’d been hoping to fall in love with him. There was a difference.
And now she understood why their friendship had always felt so comfortable, so easy. Why his touches never stirred anything in her beyond gratitude and warmth. Why she’d had to work to imagine them as more than friends.
She glanced up and saw the fear in his eyes as he waited for her response. He thought she would reject him. Worse, the fear that she might expose him. She knew what happened to men like him if society discovered the truth. Ruin was the least of it.
Her heart ached for him. For the burden he carried. For the loneliness of keeping such a secret.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I believe I understand.”
She didn’t, not really. She didn’t fully understand the mechanics between a man and woman, let alone this.
But she understood enough. She understood that Edward was still Edward—still kind, still good, still the man who’d saved her when she needed saving most. Who he was attracted to could never change that.
“I know this is a lot to ask of you,” he said. “I will understand if you say no. I must marry eventually, and if a marriage of convenience should suit us both, I’d prefer it to be with my dearest friend.”
“But what about children? What about an heir?”
“We may try for children, when and if we are both in agreement. We can decide that together.”
She’d always wanted children. And it seemed to be a possibility. She nodded slowly, trying to process what he was offering. A marriage, but not the marriage she’d imagined. Safety and security and friendship, but not passion.
“If you say no,” Edward continued, “I ask that you please never speak of this with anyone. I’m sure you understand the consequences I would face.”
“I would never do such a thing to you, Edward.” And she wouldn’t. He was too dear to her. Whatever her answer, she would guard his secret as fiercely as he’d intervened that night in the garden. And he ensured that no one ever knew what that bastard Lord Peel had attempted.
She thought about his offer. Turned it over in her mind, examining it from every angle. There was no one else who had captured her interest. And love marriages were a rarity in their society.
Marriage to the wrong man would be so much worse than marriage to a friend.
Lord Peel had seemed charming until he wasn’t.
How could she trust her judgment after that?
At least with Edward, she knew exactly what she was getting.
Honesty. Kindness. Freedom. And the chance to protect him the way he’d protected her.
But there was a small part of her that mourned what she was giving up.
Not Edward specifically—she could admit to herself now that she’d never truly wanted him that way.
But the possibility of passion. The hope that someday, with someone, she might experience the kind of love she’d always imagined. The kind her parents had.
But she would let that hope go. Perhaps that was the price of safety. Of honoring true friendship.
She drew a deep breath. “I will marry you, Edward.”
His eyes widened. “Are you certain, Juliana? I promise our friendship will remain unchanged if you say no.”
She squeezed his hands. “I am certain. We shall lead a contented life together.”
She believed it. Contentment might not be passion, but it was more than many women got. And Edward was good. He would take care of her. She would take care of him. They would be safe together.
He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, his lips soft and gentle against her skin. It was chaste, brotherly almost. Nothing like the kisses she might have imagined with her future husband.
“I believe your mother will be delighted,” he said.
Juliana laughed. “You are correct in that regard.”
She took his arm, and as they walked back toward the house, she thought about what they’d just agreed to.
A marriage of friendship and mutual protection.
He had saved her once from Lord Peel. Now she could save him by giving him the respectability he needed.
And one day an heir. They would keep each other safe, and she would have fun with him.
It wasn’t the future she’d once imagined, but perhaps it was better than most.