by Rose Gordon
“Do you like being outdoors?” he asked after a minute, his eyes oddly intent.
“Of course,” she said with a wistful sigh. “What young girl doesn't dream of having some sort of adventure?”
“I don't know. I've never been privy to the thoughts of young girls.”
She swatted at his arm. “You know exactly what I meant.”
“Yes. I think I do.”
~Chapter Twenty~
Edward did know exactly what she had meant, and he knew exactly what he needed to do to give it to her.
“John,” he said, opening the door of what used to be their third story nursery before last summer when John had taken some strange notion to use it as his bedchamber.
John looked up from where he was sitting in a green chair by the fire, reading a book. “Is something wrong?”
Edward stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. “No. I just wanted to talk to you now in case I don't see you in the morning.”
John sighed. “I already told you everything that happened.”
Edward lifted his hand to halt his brother's words. “I know,” he said with a swallow. “And though Mr. Sweeny doesn't believe your tale, I do.” This wasn't what he'd wanted to speak to John about, but perhaps now was the perfect time to reassure him. “John, sometimes our best intentions can still go wrong. Look at what happened when I tried to keep the truth about our betrothal from Regina to spare her feelings?”
“It's not the same.” John swallowed and closed his book. “I didn't go out there with the best of intentions.”
Edward nodded. “I was fourteen not that long ago. I know exactly what your intentions were.”
John shifted uncomfortably. “Does this ruin my credibility as a vicar—should I still choose that path?”
“No. It just means you're human.” He untied his loosened cravat and pulled it off. “I think it speaks far more for your character than against it that you changed your mind and tried to do right by her.”
“But if I hadn't changed my mind, nobody would have ever known what happened that night.”
“Perhaps, but you'd have known.” He took a deep breath. These were conversations better had between a father and son. A memory of his father's conversation with him about what had happened to Joseph's father when he didn't keep his prick in his pants sprang to mind. Thinking about it that way, Edward might be better suited to guide John than Father would have been, after all. “I know you're embarrassed right now because you changed your mind— don't speak, I'm still talking.” He sighed. “In the end, you made the right choice. That's all that matters.”
John didn't look so convinced.
“John, what if you had gone through with it and she'd conceived? How would you feel then?”
“I hadn't considered that,” John said quietly.
“Well, don't consider it now. You didn't do anything.” Knowing John and his overwhelming sense of always wanting to do the right thing, he'd have begged Edward to let him marry the tavern wench even if there was a possibility the child could have been conceived from the seed of another man. Likely, if he'd been of age when this had happened, he'd have hauled her off to Gretna Green and married her instead of just giving her all the money in his pocket and his clothes. “John, you have to stop worrying about this. You did nothing wrong.”
“I know,” John admitted dully.
Edward wanted to groan. “Do you regret your choice and wish that you had slept with her? Because I can tell you right now, there is a vast difference between a woman who wishes to share her bed with you and one who's accepting your attentions because she doesn't have a choice.” Edward didn't know who was more stunned by his comment and didn't exactly care. Though Regina was the only woman he’d been intimate with, there was an enormous difference in her behavior when she’d welcomed him into her bed when she’d wanted him there and when she hadn’t.
“That's not what I meant, Edward.”
Edward took a calming breath. He was this close to snapping at his brother. But that wouldn't get him anywhere. “John, are you afraid of someone's altered opinion of you?”
John nodded.
“I've already told you that I do not think this will be the blemish on your reputation as a vicar you're imagining it to be.”
“It's not even that.”
Edward sighed. Between John and Regina, he didn't know who was more vague. “All right, are you afraid you've lost all of your friends' respect because you didn't bed her?”
“No.”
“Then what the devil is the problem?”
“You.”
“Me?” Edward asked, slapping his open palm against his chest.
John found something about his boots that seemed to be of great interest and studied it for a moment before finding the right words to speak. “Have you...er...changed your opinion of me?”
Ah, so that's what was troubling him. “No, John. I haven't.” Edward scuffed his boot along the bottom edge of a nearby table leg. “Would it matter to you if I had?”
“Yes.” He swallowed audibly. “I know most boys crave the respect of their fathers, but not me. It was always your approval I sought. Not his.”
The unspoken reasons for John's statements hung between them. “You can't blame him completely,” he said softly. “He couldn't know she'd be such an awful mother, too.”
“No, but he could have been a better father.” He flicked his wrist through the air. “It doesn't matter anymore, does it?”
“It never did.”
“To you perhaps.” John propped his elbow up on the end table next to him and leaned his head against his hand. “At least he was a father to you, for a while. I have doubts he ever even knew my middle name.”
Edward swore under his breath. John was right though, on both accounts. Father had been more for Edward than any of the others. John, being so much younger than Edward, had never had much of a chance to know his father before Mother died. “It's little consolation, I realize, but I know your full name, John, and your birthdate.”
“I know you do. You might be deplorable when it comes to your own wife, but you were always a good older brother.”
Despite himself, Edward laughed. “With any luck, there's still hope for me on that score, too.”
John made a face similar to what he'd have made at fourteen if someone was talking about ways to woo their wives. “What was it you came here to say, anyway?”
Right. He'd almost forgotten. “I've decided to take a trip to Watson Estate for a few days and wanted to ask you to answer any questions the servants have in regards to the meeting I'll be hosting when I return. There shouldn't be any, but in case one arises, I'd like you to answer it.”
John groaned. “Do you not trust Lady Watson to oversee the placement of the furniture retrieved from the attic?”
“I do. But she'll be with me at Watson Estate.”
“Oh?” John questioned, waggling his eyebrows.
Edward scowled at him. “Stop that. It's perfectly acceptable for a man to take his wife with him for a few days in the country.”
“I know. But it seems you've been spending a lot of time with her as of late.”
“That was your suggestion, was it not?”
“In a matter of speaking, it was. But I didn't think you'd follow it. I assumed you'd find something she enjoyed doing and tolerate it every now and then to appease her. Though he's reluctant to admit it, it seems Lord Sinclair uses that tactic.”
“Tennis,” Edward muttered, curling up his lip in disgust. “She seemed to enjoy that fairly well, but I don't think she liked it well enough to enjoy tennis lessons.” Heaven knew he'd hate to be subjected to a fate of tennis lessons.
“I can see where that might be a problem with a heavy skirt and all,” John mused. “Have you considered introducing her to pall mall?”
“Absolutely not,” Edward said adamantly. “I might not care for tennis, but I abhor pall mall. I'm sure I'll introduce her to the game, at some point. Ideally, after we have a few offspring who are old enough to play with her, so I don't have to.”
“It's not so bad.”
Grimacing, Edward said, “Perhaps not. But I detest the game and cannot fathom why anyone enjoys it.” John was right, though; Regina would probably enjoy pall mall better than tennis. She seemed not to mind playing lawn chess at Ridge Water, even if she didn't know the rules. If his next plan failed, he'd buy a confounded pall mall set. Until then, he'd pray that wouldn't be necessary.
“Tell me something, Edward? Did Regina really have such a terrible time playing tennis, or is there another reason you're taking her with you to the country?”
Edward dropped his elbows to his knees and bent forward. Since when had his youngest brother grown so damn perceptive? He was only fourteen. He was supposed to be ignorant and causing trouble. He undoubtedly was doing his share of the second due to his lack of the first. Even so, he wasn't supposed to know so much. The truth was Regina had enjoyed tennis. From the looks of it, she appeared to enjoy it just as much as he enjoyed getting a new shipment of plants from the Amazon. Which was fine—excellent, even, but what if there was something they both enjoyed doing?
He shook his head. When had this become about finding things for them to do together? He just wanted to make amends for his part in the deception that hurt her.
“Edward?”
His head shot up. “Yes?”
“A man can only fight so long before his heart makes him surrender.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” His eyes narrowed on the book John had been reading when he came in. “Have you been reading the book of Proverbs again?”
“Of course, I need to be well versed on the advice I give to my wayward parishioners. How fortunate for me that I'll be very well practiced after living with you until I'm eighteen.”
“Put the Bible down and get to sleep, John. You're only fourteen, not forty.”
John intertwined his fingers and placed his hands on the back of his head, leaning back in the chair. “Oh how I wish I were.” A smile took his face as if he were lost in a dream. “My life will be so much simpler then. I'll be a quiet country vicar with a nice quiet wife and children who never get into trouble and drink up my advice as if it were punch.”
Edward snorted. “That's what's called a fantasy. Most men reserve those to dream about beautiful women joining them in their bed because they can't charm one there in real life. If I had to wager what your life will be like at forty, I'd say you'll be married to a lady who has the ability to drive you mad and have a brood of urchins who defy you at every turn.”
“I think not,” John said with a scowl.
“What was that you said a minute ago? Oh, right, 'A man can only fight so long before his heart makes him surrender.' I predict you'll find out the truth of that statement soon enough.” An image of a young girl who used to have a heavy dose of calf-love for John came to mind. “Say, do you remember Rebecca Klammer?”
“Do not ever mention that name to me again,” John said.
Edward tried to contain his smile. “Didn't Mother make you entertain her when Mrs. Klammer came to visit Mother?”
“Yes.” John's lips twisted as if the memory brought him great pain. “No matter what I did, she'd clap her hands, jump around, and try to kiss me as if I'd just won freedom in the gladiator arena.”
“She sounds charming.”
“She wasn't.”
“Don't fight it, John. You enjoyed her attention just like you'll enjoy your wife's, and I will be right there to delight in your heart's surrender.”
“No maddening lady will have the ability to make me surrender, I guarantee it.”
“But if it's what the heart wants...” Edward trailed off and walked to the door before John had the opportunity to goad Edward about what his heart wanted; because honestly, he didn't know anymore. And that was the reason his father had arranged his marriage for him.
~Chapter Twenty-One~
“Good morning, Regina,” Edward greeted before Regina could fully cross the threshold into the breakfast room.
“Good morning to you, too, Edward.”
“I've a surprise for you today.” Ah, that explained why a grin larger than the stiff, white crescent along the right shoulder of her nightgown was splitting his face.
“You do?”
“That I do.” He stood and walked to the sideboard with her.
She allowed him to help her fix her plate. “There's something I need to talk to you about first.”
“Does it have anything to do with the breakfast, your duty as baroness, Lady Sinclair's demands or anything of the like?”
She could delay it no longer. Yesterday, it was all she could do not to blurt out her folly. If she didn't tell him—and soon—he might learn of it a different way. “Yes,” she said with a small hitch in her voice.
Edward scowled. “Then I do not wish to hear of it.”
“But—”
Edward stunned her into silence with a kiss to her soft lips. “I mean it, Regina. Not a word of any of that today.” His silky voice fell over her like a caress.
“Even if it's important?” she hedged.
He nodded. “Even then. You've worked very hard these past weeks, and I want us to do something fun before we both suffer inhumanely. That means not a word about anything I listed a moment ago until after your surprise has ended.”
“All right,” Regina agreed, a small smile pulling on her lips. But she would tell him when she got back.
Edward mumbled something she couldn't make out then cleared his throat. “Excellent.” He carried her plate back to the table and set it down in front of her seat.
“You are in quite an excellent mood,” Regina mused, spearing her coddled eggs. “Is your night blooming cruces due to bloom this eve?”
His fork full of coddled eggs stopped moving halfway to his mouth. “I have no idea.”
“So what is this surprise?”
“You'll see when we get to Watson Estate.”
“But my breakfast,” she protested. “It's only a week and a half away, and your meeting is in four days. I cannot make a trip to Watson Estate right now. What if I'm needed?”
He stabbed a kipper on his plate. “You're not. I've discussed everything with Calvert and Mrs. Rourke.” He ate what was on his fork. “Besides, John will be here. He might have a penchant for finding trouble without looking for it, but he's not a simpleton. He can settle matters, if need be.”
She wiped her mouth. “Very well.”
His grin grew, if such a thing were possible. “Excellent. I have to pay a call this morning then we'll be able to leave after luncheon. We should be there after nightfall.”
An odd feeling of nostalgia swept over Regina as the carriage began its journey to Watson Estate. This was the same journey they made the day they were married. But, it was different this time. In April, she'd believed she was going to the country to spend time alone with a man who loved her. She squeezed her eyes shut. There was no denying that she still loved him. She'd never stopped. But would he ever grow to love her the same way? Or would he always insist on taking her on these outings to relieve his own guilt?
“We're here,” Edward said sometime later, waking her.
She rubbed her eyes. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“A few hours.” He helped her descend the carriage then escorted her to her room. “Sleep well. I have a busy day planned for us tomorrow.”
Georgie, who'd made the journey with them in the carriage behind, came in a few minutes later and helped her remove her gown and don her nightgown. Edward had made it a habit as of late to join her in bed after she'd gone to
sleep. He made no demands during his visits, just pulled her body close to his and slept alongside her. She certainly didn't understand this strange behavior, neither did she wish for it to stop.
And he did not disappoint.
No more than an hour later, the adjoining door creaked open followed shortly by the mattress dipping under her husband's heavy frame. His right arm snaked around her midsection, holding her against his firm body. As it always did, his touch made her skin tingle. She inhaled his spicy scent and allowed herself a measure of pride when Edward inhaled just the same against her hair.
Falling asleep against his powerful body while feeling his heart beat so close to hers was her favorite time of day.
She closed her eyes and was awakened by Edward's whispering.
“It's time to wake up.” His hand squeezed her hip affectionately then he rolled out of bed. “Be sure to wear a gown that doesn't require paniers.”
Regina flushed at his mention of her undergarments. “A-all right.”
After he left, she rang for Georgie, who helped her into a simple pink morning gown that had a white lace trim around the edges.
“We'll be gone all day so be sure to eat until you think you're about to burst the seams of your gown,” Edward informed her as she sat down to eat.
“Always so eloquent,” Regina murmured before sipping her coffee.
“Just like the place we're going today.”
Regina took a bite of her biscuit. “And just where might that be anyway?” And where were his coat and cravat?
He flashed her a devilish grin. “You'll see.”
That was it. All he'd say on the topic for the remainder of breakfast.
After they'd finished, he led her outside and toward the conservatory. She bit her lip as anxious feelings stirred inside her. She hadn't been in his conservatory since the day she'd found their betrothal agreement and learned everything had been a farce. Her pulse raced with each step closer they got. This is foolishness, it's just a building. Ah, but it was a building he'd only invited her into out of obligation.
