Page 30 of The Reclusive Earl’s Scandal (Vows and Vanity #1)

“Speaking of,” Willoughby said, turning to him. “I heard you acquired a new estate in Bath. Whatever inspired you?”

“Well, I spent too long away from London, and I did not really… embrace my status as the Earl of Thornshire. I was made aware that I could enhance my assets, so I did.” What Edward did not say was that he had bought the house for Rebecca—a way to escape the trapped life she might find with him.

While he understood she might not want to live alone, he wanted to extend freedom to her to be outside of his isolated orbit.

And if she still wished for romance throughout their platonic marriage, then…

what he did not know would not hurt him.

It had pained him to put such measures in place, but he could not stand himself otherwise.

“He is trying to impress a lady,” Lord Bradley jested.

“Yes, but which one? You have been quite the favored suitor, Thornshire.”

“Do not sound so surprised,” Edward managed.

His bravado was slipping, the effects of the wine helping to keep himself grounded in the act but not truly enough to keep it up for very long.

“However, I did find myself unexpectedly garnering attention.” He grimaced, not having to feign being bothered by that.

“Lady Catherine seemed a favourite,” they noted. “Much to many other men’s disappointment.”

“Ah.” Edward forced a laugh. “The… the favour was not returned.”

“Who was it returned to, then? I do not see you dancing tonight.” Willoughby’s eyes gleamed as if he could smell gossip in the air. Some men turned their attention off such things while others were half as bad as the ladies of the ton .

Before he could answer, Lord Bradley laughed. “I believe he will not say, and for good reason, I suppose.”

Edward looked at him, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we have all seen you growing closer to the Bancrofts’ eldest. Lady Rebecca is quite the beauty, but it is a shame she has spoiled it for herself with that tutor’s son.”

Edward went cold. The accusation rang familiarly. The theater—the box next to his. He had not taken much stock in the gossiping, too focused on the arrival of the second half of the play, and then the panic that had pushed him to leave.

But he recalled something about a lady ruining herself, the devastation of her parents. Edward looked around the ball, suddenly questioning a great deal. Was everybody speaking about the rumor? And how ?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest.

The only person, to his knowledge, who knew of her history with Harry Maudley was… him. She had told him the truth. Edward struggled to breathe evenly. He had not started any rumors, but if he was the only person she had told would Rebecca think he had?

All at once, he saw people whispering. Heads turned towards Rebecca, who cringed in the corner, her eyes fixed on a group of ladies who hid smirks behind fans.

Edward had no doubt she was hearing similar comments.

Heavens— Heavens , he had to go to her. She backed away, stumbling, as she fought for a way out of the ballroom.

Fury ignited in him. He knew the lengths it would take her to drop her charismatic act and need to flee, to break the perfect ton image.

He whirled back to Lord Bradley. “Watch your tongue when you speak of the woman who will be my wife.”

His words were all but snarls, and then he took off running, chasing where Rebecca had disappeared in her flowing skirts of blue.

But just as he did, he saw the Duchess of Bancroft, with the duke notably absent from her side, hurry after Rebecca as well.

She beat Edward to it, but he still pursued Rebecca down the hallway.

“I told you this would happen,” the duchess hissed as Edward caught up to them.

Rebecca was cornered by her mother in an alcove far away enough from the ballroom that no others would overhear unless they were too bold in their nosiness and ventured into the hallway.

“I told you that you needed to quell everything with that boy!”

“There was nothing to quell,” Rebecca snapped.

Her voice was thick, as if she was crying.

Moments later, Rebecca’s soft sobs filled the hallway.

“There was nothing to quell, Mother. I have told you countless times that once, yes, there was something there, and I had hoped for marriage one day, but I knew it could not be. When I accepted that, I turned my back on him.”

“And this is his retaliation. Surely you recognise that.”

“Of course, I do, but I do not believe Harry is the only one behind it all.”

Edward approached closer, interrupting whatever the duchess was about to accuse Rebecca of further.

When Rebecca’s eyes found his, he saw only sorrow in them.

A deep ache that she could not wrangle under control amidst her upset.

Her face was pale, and her hands shook where she still held her fan which she gripped like a lifeline.

“Edward,” she whispered. The duchess made a noise of protest at the informality.

“I will marry you,” he told her. “As soon as I can, I will ensure that we are wed. I can obtain a special license from the bishop. It will be as immediate as we can make it. I will not have to endure this gossip.”

“But as you said, the gossip ruins us both.” It hurt him how weak her voice sounded. Edward shook his head quickly.

“I do not care about any of that any longer. My priority is you .”

“But your reputation...”

He let out a helpless laugh. “My comment was unjustified. If people speak about me, or speculate, it will not be the first time.” And he meant it. People would already speak on his honor, already had been, according to his mother and sister when they came for him in the countryside.

Edward met Rebecca’s eyes. “Let me protect you. I will not stand for any of this gossip any longer. I know your truth, Rebecca. I know you.”

She gave a small hiccup as her cries died down, her tears drying up. Slowly, she nodded.

“I accept.” Rebecca’s whisper made his heart flutter foolishly. “I accept your proposal.”

Edward smiled at her, pulling her closer with a respectable hold on her arm. “You may help with whatever you wish, but do let me take care of it all. You have enough to worry about.”

Rebecca sniffed again, but she nodded. “Thank you.” Looking towards her mother, she gave a small sigh. “I would like to go home.”

“That only looks like defeat, darling,” her mother reminded her. “If you flee after...”

“I do not care. I want to leave. You cannot expect me, nor ask me, to endure this any longer. Not tonight, not after this week.”

After a moment, her mother gave a weary exhale. “Fine, but I will be staying.”

“Then I shall escort you home,” Edward offered. “Ride with me in my carriage, and I will see you back safely and respectably.”

Rebecca’s mother looked ready to argue, but Rebecca was already nodding, eagerly stepping closer to him. “That would be perfect, thank you.”

“But the two of you?”

“We are already betrothed,” Rebecca muttered. “Edward can be my chaperone officially.”

The Duchess of Bancroft looked between the two of them as though she did not like the set-up one bit, but eventually nodded.

It was likely in favor of not wanting more drama, or being eager to return to her own night, but she conceded, and he didn’t waste another moment in pulling her from the Canterbury townhouse.

They located his carriage easily, and he ordered his coachman to head towards Bancroft Manor.

For a while, the carriage was silent, and the two sat apart.

Rebecca’s right hand rested on the bench between them, and Edward kept fighting the urge to reach out and slip his fingers through hers.

He didn’t; he knew she would pull away. Still, he lowered his own hand within reach, and hoped she knew she could take hold of it if she wanted to.

He searched for the right words. He needed to tell her why he had gone silent this past week. He needed to make sure she knew what she was getting herself into by marrying him.

“Edward, I must tell you something.”

Rebecca broke the silence, surprising him. He turned to find her eyes already on him, still teary and bright, but more sullen than before.

“I am ever so grateful for all you have done, and continue to do for me, but there is another thing you need to know.”

Part of him withered and wanted to ask there is more ? Because he felt like there were so many things he had been kept in the dark about. She had asked to speak to me, he reminded himself. I was the one who did not approach her to give her the chance.

But he had also promised her a husband she could always speak to, so he nodded for her to continue.

Rebecca gazed at him for a few moments. Her face was unreadable, and he thought she looked like she warred with herself. Her wavy hair was styled to frame her face, her skin pale, and freckles standing out even more with the highlight of the lantern hanging just outside the window.

Her dress framed her shoulders, drawing inwards towards the bodice with a respectable elegance that he found himself wanting to chase with his fingertips.

“There is a reason I had to cut off my connection with Harry Maudley,” she began.

Her voice shook terribly, and in that moment, he had never wanted more than to take away whatever pain burrowed in her.

Rebecca alternated between looking just past him and actually meeting his gaze.

“And it is the same reason I made myself so good at getting attention from suitors, why I put myself in the path of so many in the first place. Of course, every lady wishes to secure a good husband and tests her options, but… I fear I must tell you the truth about my reasoning because I have pulled you into my mess.”

Edward didn’t dare interrupt her, but he nodded.

“My father… I told you—well, you saw part of it, at least—is a drunk.

By day, he drinks everything he can find, and what is left of it at night he throws down on any gambling table he can find.

He has received more letters than I care to think about with threats of repossessing our assets, demands to clear his debts, and yet he does nothing.

Furniture goes missing, but the letters still come through.

My mother has been in a terrible bout of misery this past week, for he sold all her old gowns that were memories for her.

She is not a sentimental woman, but they meant a lot to her.

“Still, nothing seems to have been gained financially from them being taken. I have seen the account books, Edward and I confess I do not know what money my father has been able to offer you. I do not believe he can pay you my dowry. I was surprised at the offer, for I did not believe I had one. But we do not have the money for it, so I do not know where he is getting the money from. I fear that I do not have much at all to bring into our marriage. We were once a notorious name, and I have used that to woo suitors, but now my husband will be you and I could not be dishonest any longer. I...I cannot use you without you deciding if this is something you can take on.”

Her eyes shined with fresh tears, and Edward finally did reach out to take her hand.

She let him slip his fingers between hers, although she looked down at their joined hands for a moment too long, and he wished he wanted to pull back, to maintain that friendly distance, but he truly did not want to.

“Rebecca, I am grateful you have told me,” he said.

“But I want you to listen, and I want you to understand and relieve yourself of any guilt or burdens. My father was good with his finances, as was my grandfather. I have been a recluse for all my life, and even as the earl I have only ever made one big purchase.”

“Your new estate.”

Your potential home should you choose once you see your life with me , he thought self-deprecatingly.

“Yes,” he managed to say. “The Thornshire accounts hold more money than I know what to do with. I have other assets unused that can be liquidated should I need it, but I have plenty to take care of us, my sister, my mother, the estate, and your family. I do not care what you bring to this marriage. I do not care if you only proposed the idea to gain money. I do not care.”

A guilty flicker across her face said that Edward was at least partially right.

It may not have been her only reason, but it had factored in.

Yet there was a helpless desperation to it; it didn’t feel like Lady Catherine’s deception.

This was a woman who had sacrificed what she wanted in order to save her family.

“But...”

“No buts,” he countered, smiling hopefully. “I love you, Rebecca, and that is why I agreed to marry you. If offered, I do not even require your dowry. I want you , and that is quite simply all there is to it.”

I just do not know if you want me.

But the silence in the carriage made him think over what had just slipped out of his mouth and he stilled.

I love you, Rebecca .

Oh, Heavens.

Rebecca’s face changed, her expression flickering.

Edward looked away and pulled his hand back, but she squeezed it.

He didn’t dare think it meant anything, but he squeezed right back.

All the while, his heart pounded. Yet there was something he still had not let go of, not even as Rebecca whispered a soft thank you : had she truly only walked away from Harry to marry a wealthy man for her family’s sake?

Did that mean she might still hold some affection for him, no matter how faint it might be now?