Page 24 of The Reclusive Earl’s Scandal (Vows and Vanity #1)

Breakfast in Thornshire House the day after the Balkans’ ball was lively, something Edward had come to start enjoying.

No, perhaps that was too strong of a word, but it was no longer full of silences that made him feel on-edge with his mother. If anything, the ire mostly came from Elena, but she had said very little to him since he had confronted her about not wanting to be with Catherine.

“I saw you speaking with Lady Rebecca a great deal last night,” his mother commented.

For once, she didn’t glare at him over her teacup, and he knew that had only changed due to him falling into line with what she wanted for him.

He had agreed to find a wife, and he was participating as well as he could; he was making her happy.

Her love and contentment with him was conditional, and Edward had long accepted that.

“I did,” he told her.

“Following the visit you made to Bancroft Manor, I would assume the conversation was positive?”

“Indeed,” he said. “In fact, so positive that I have some news to share with you both.” At that, his mother sat up straighter in her dining chair, lowering the knife she was using to cut open a bun.

“I have stated my intentions to marry Lady Rebecca Bancroft.

She is the most suitable lady for me, and we are well-matched as well as friends already.

I see no reason to waste my time sifting through quite frankly torturous dances to find a wife, when she is right there, and we will be happy with one another.

“I am making a point to visit her father later this week.”

Edward let his announcement settle with his family, and he looked back and forth between them. His mother’s face broke into utter glee, her grin making her look softer than he’d seen in a very long time, while anger slowly crept into his sister’s pretty features.

“Why wait so long to approach her father?” his mother asked. “I do not ask as a demand, but curiosity.”

He nodded. “We both know the match comes at the cost of other ladies for me, or suitors for her, being disappointed. She is a highly notorious duke’s daughter, after all.

Her wealth and status puts her at the top of many lords’ lists.

So I suppose these last few days are something I have offered her without stating it because I want her to ensure she is making the right decision with me. ”

“I believe neither of you are.”

His sister’s hard words came out clipped, her teacup slammed into her saucer. It drew Edward’s attention to her. Her mouth was pulled into a grim line as she shook her head.

“Elena!”

“No,” she snapped. “I heard you well enough yesterday, brother. You chided me at length, but I still do not have to be happy about it. I believe you are making a mistake. Do you truly think anything good will come of this?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked quietly.

“It is just—the two of you have history! You are friends, and friends ought not to marry. Does Lady Rebecca not deserve a love match?”

He knew the question was asked in Elena’s desperation to sway him, and it worked for a moment, but he had asked Rebecca the exact same thing, and she had still accepted.

“It was her idea,” he finally told Elena. “I trust her to know what she wants. Lady Rebecca is a good woman. She is honest and kind, and I can see her being a good countess.”

“As can I,” his mother supported. It was off-putting, in a way, to do something worthy of his mother’s praise and favor for once, especially over Elena’s own opinion. They were usually so on par with one another that the situation was strange enough to make Edward freeze for a moment.

In the silence, Elena took to angrily cutting up the potatoes on her breakfast plate that were already cut into small cubes. Her mouth worked around words she held back. He knew she would not be given half a chance once their mother left the breakfast hall.

“Heed me, brother,” she snapped in the end, “Lady Catherine is the lady you should have gone with. When this all goes wrong, do not be so surprised.”

Edward set his utensils down with more force than he needed to, and it got his sister’s attention enough that she jumped.

“Your worries hardly matter, Elena. I am the one getting married. I have done as you both asked. I have endured your lists and your plans. I danced with Lady Catherine, which was the only promise I made to you.”

He looked between them both before speaking more.

“You pulled me from the comfort of Thornshire Hall to take my proper place as the head of the family. I never asked to be the earl, but now I am, and I have undertaken my duties. Focus on your own prospects, Elena, present me with your lists for yourself, and worry less about me. I will do as I please.”

With that, he shoved back his chair and walked out of the breakfast hall, not quite angry, but more triumphant.

At once, he whistled for his dogs to follow him out to the gardens to give them a stroll.

The spring air coaxed him further out, deeper into the garden.

They were nowhere as expansive as the countryside estate’s, but they did the job of making him feel like he had space.

He wandered up and down the long, thin pathways while Benedict and Barnes sniffed their way through the flowers.

The Season had been hard enough with extra complications like his sister’s anger, but the way she was so insistent on him choosing Lady Catherine was grating on his nerves.

He didn’t like how continuously persistent she was about it.

He still had never made it to the Greenacre, and had declined a handful of balls.

There had been a dinner party that he’d refused to go to and had caused his whole family not to attend at all after their argument over Edward’s absence.

But as much as Rebecca didn’t like the ballrooms, it was easy to see she liked her socializing.

She enjoyed going out; she loved the lights, it was easy to see.

While she might not like the set-up of the matchmaking games, she liked the Season’s events.

If she married Edward, would he be signing up for a lifetime of discomfort to go out with her, or was she shackling herself indoors for her life to stay in with him? He would never, ever keep her locked away. He’d never dream of it—if anything, the thought of it made him feel rather ill.

Strolling down one of his old favorite paths, Edward imagined an evening as a wedded couple, the two of them venturing out to a dinner gathering, perhaps.

To his own surprise, he smiled, thinking about it.

Just the two of them... sounded good, he thought.

Still in public, but they’d be in their own bubble.

Around her, he felt braver. Around her, he thought that he could do most things he didn’t feel able to do alone.

How was it that he felt that way? Alone, going out felt like a chore, but slightly more manageable than going somewhere with his mother and sister.

The thought of their overbearing ways made his throat close up, and he quickly cut the thought down before it could take proper root.

He felt oddly calm right now; he didn’t want to ruin that.

Tentatively, he reached out for the idea of going out with Rebecca again.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her in a gown of deep green, on his arm, her hair prettily styled for their night out.

He would wear matching attire, and ensure he looked his own part as well.

Together, they would also go to the opera.

He recalled how much she had loved music as a young girl. At least he thought he did.

Did she still like it? He wondered and he surely wanted to find out.

He wanted to overcome his fear of going out.

Steadying himself against the onslaught of anxiety, he didn’t cut the thought down this time, not when it concerned her.

Instead, he pushed through. He imagined every detail he could think of, journeying in his mind from house to theater, and back again.

His hands shook, and he balled them into fists.

Everything that could go wrong went wrong in his mental scenario.

Rebecca hurt herself, Edward took suddenly ill, their carriage crashed, a fire began in the theater.

A myriad of terrible situations flooded him until his breath came harder.

Clenching his fists tighter, Edward forced himself to sit with the thoughts regardless.

He always ran from them, ran from everything he couldn’t face.

He always buried down everything that felt like too much , proved to be too heavy, or too overwhelming, but…

the more he avoided the worse he would get.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Thornshire House.

He had done the same here as in the countryside with a little more pressure to go out.

Ultimately, he had buried himself in the same rooms, blocking out a life beyond the front door.

He was four and twenty. How much longer would he confine himself and shrink his life down into a box that was heavily guarded for the sake of his anxiety? He would never be able to overcome that gnawing pit in his stomach if he never faced it aside from a couple of hours at a ball here and there.

Slowly, a realization slid into Edward.

Whether she did love him or not, Rebecca deserved a husband who would show up for her, who would give her the freedom to show up without going to places alone. He could not lock her in a life of explaining his absences like his mother and sister had suffered through.

Heavens, he had put them through a lot. Even if he couldn’t control his anxiety and wished they were infinitely better about it, he also had to step back and realize they had made excuse after excuse for him so he did not have to face it all.

Edward sighed, his eyes tracking across the windows of his house.