Chapter 16

Edward tried not to stare at Arabella as she walked away, but it was hard with the way her hips swayed. He couldn't believe how their relationship had transformed so quickly, couldn't believe he'd found himself so at ease with a woman that he'd been in no hurry to take his pleasure.

He remembered how she'd sounded as she'd come apart in his arms and the sweet taste of her, and desire began to simmer in his veins again.

They'd talked about staying married, but he couldn't help but wonder if she was having second thoughts, as she'd asked if they could discuss it on the morrow.

He'd been honest with her about his feelings and felt a twinge of fear that she'd only said what she said in the heat of the moment and was fast regretting her words.

He led their horses to the stables and handed them to the stable master, trying not to let the dark thoughts weigh him down, but it was a difficult feat, considering how deep she was imprinted in his mind and heart.

He considered how loudly she'd laughed when he'd teased her and her soft smiles when she wanted to say something she was afraid to admit. She'd made it easy for him to open up to her, and now that he had, he couldn't help but worry he'd handed her his heart too quickly.

He shook thoughts of her out of his mind as he walked to his study to finish up some correspondence he'd abandoned but was startled by his brother's presence.

"Charles, what can I help you with?" he asked with a sigh, pouring himself a drink.

If Charles was here now, he was sure it wasn't with good tidings, and he was in no mood to deal with his brother's foul moods and negative criticism.

He could only wonder what the man wanted to complain about now.

"I ask you again, Brother…" Charles began. "When do you plan on fixing this grievous error in judgment you have made?"

Edward frowned, trying to decipher his brother's cryptic question. "Excuse me?"

"Don't feign ignorance, Brother," Charles chided. "You know what I'm referring to."

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking."

"I'm talking about the error you made marrying that… girl," Charles stated. "I do not see why you insist on having her?—"

"I already warned you against speaking about my wife," Edward interrupted him, not wanting to continue the conversation.

"And I will continue to do so until you see how foolhardy your decision was." Charles was nearly yelling now, betraying his anger. "I refuse to believe that silly story you fed Mother and Emily in the dining room. You must have bedded her and then been forced to wed her by her social-climbing brother?—"

"Enough!" Edward yelled, slamming his hands on the table. His chest heaved as anger turned his vision red.

If Charles weren't his brother, he was sure he'd have throttled him or worse by now.

"I have tolerated your criticizing my decision to marry Arabella, and I will continue to do so until it sinks into your head that I do not intend to do as you ask," he hissed, his voice slow and threatening. "What I will not stand for is you slandering my wife's name and reputation or that of her family, who are now our family by extension?—"

"They are no family of mine," Charles snapped.

"They will cease to be as will Mother and I if you push me into excommunicating you."

"You wouldn't dare!" Charles yelled in outrage.

"You forget, dear brother, that I am renowned for making rash and brainless decisions," Edward threatened, throwing words his brother had said to him back in his face.

Charles turned positively red and stormed towards the door, but not before he had the final word.

"When the time comes and she shatters the heart you have so willingly handed her, I hope you will remember that I warned you."

The loud sound of the door slamming shut did nothing to silence the racing thoughts his final words had set off in Edward.

Was it that obvious he'd handed his heart to Arabella?

He took another long sip of his drink, rolling the liquid around his tongue before letting it burn a path down to his stomach.

Edward had meant every word he'd said to his brother, but a little part of him feared his brother's warning.

He shook the thoughts out of his mind, choosing to focus on the one thing he had control over—the estate he'd inherited. When he found himself confused or needing an escape, the numbers helped him deal with whatever emotions raged inside him.

He was cross-checking a sum he just did when a knock sounded at the door to his study.

He wondered briefly if it were perhaps Arabella and hastily bade her to enter.

The door opened to admit Joana, who was dressed less than appropriately in a night robe. She was holding a food tray which made him realize he'd missed dinner.

"I thank you, Joana," he said once she set it in front of him, averting his gaze when she leaned down and her cleavage came into view.

He coughed into his hand, keeping his face turned away till she straightened up.

"'Tis not proper to walk around in your night robe, Joana," he scolded, although his words held no bite.

Perhaps she had been in too much of a hurry to get him dinner to remember her state of undress.

Joana shot him a lopsided smile that confused him as she walked around to perch on the edge of his desk, the slit of her gown sliding back to reveal the pale skin of her thigh.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning back in his seat with a frown.

She was being too improper, and he wondered if perhaps she had over-imbibed on wine during dinner.

"I had an interesting discussion this evening, and I'm positively excited to share it with you." She smiled, visibly excited.

"With whom, if I may ask?"

"Arabella, of course," she chirped. "She is positively divine."

Edward tried to school his expression to hide the way his stomach twisted with curiosity.

What could they possibly have discussed?

"Indeed?" he asked, surprised by how even his voice was.

"Indeed." She smiled. "I finally understand why you surprised us all with your marriage, but, dear Edward, you shouldn't sacrifice your happiness to preserve someone's honor."

Edward couldn't hide the frown on his face. "What do you mean, Joana?"

"Arabella told me all about how you heroically saved her from certain ruin by marrying her."

"She did, didn't she?" he asked darkly. "You two seem very close."

"Indeed, we are." She pouted. "She tells me everything, and I'm sorry, but the next thing I have to tell you will not be pleasant."

Edward didn't ask but arched an eyebrow at her. The sweet wine accompanying his dinner did nothing to quell the emotions coursing through him. His body craved a much stronger drink, but it was by sheer will that he refrained from entertaining his craving.

Since he had married Arabella, he had entertained the unhealthy habit too often.

"She told me she was happy that you two had finally talked and she was happy that your charade is finally coming to an end."

A hollow pit settled in his stomach at her words. Joana could have meant Arabella was happy they'd finally agreed to stay married, couldn't she?

"Indeed?" He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

He pushed the tray of food aside and moved to his side table, pouring himself a much-needed drink. To think his day had been going so well.

"Indeed," Joana affirmed. "She told me how she has been looking forward to finally ridding herself of the burden when all she'd wanted was to experience passion."

Edward frowned, wondering if he'd perhaps misread everything that had happened between them that afternoon. Arabella was the one who had confessed her feelings, and she'd come willingly into his arms.

Had that been all for show? And why had she discussed something so intimate with Joana?

He looked at Joana sitting on his desk still, now with a concerned look on her face. She'd been his ward since the accident that had claimed the lives of her parents and his father, and he couldn't deny that he'd noticed she'd harbored affections for him, but he'd been quick to dismiss the notion before it became something dangerous.

Especially considering he'd never hidden his escapades from her. He wondered if perhaps this was just another attempt at getting what she wanted, but he'd never known her to possess such a dark side.

Perhaps Arabella had been telling the truth.

He shook his head.

There was no way she could have said those things. She was the most expressive woman he'd ever met, and if she really meant the words she'd told Joana, then she was indeed a good actress.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice Joana had walked up to him.

"Oh, Edward."

That was all the warning he got before she planted her lips on his.

He froze for less than a second and then pushed her off him, glaring at her. "Don't ever do that again," he warned, wiping the taste of her off his lips.

"Why not?" she asked, pouting as tears filled her eyes. "I just want to help you forget her. See how she's hurt you?"

Edward stared at her, wondering when she'd become such a cunning woman, using tears to get what she wanted. It was a clear contrast from Arabella, who didn't play such paltry games.

He wondered why Joana would even think to do something as absurd as kissing him when he'd never shown any romantic interest in her.

"Because, Joana, I am married," he explained, choosing to believe perhaps she was confused.

"But she doesn't even want to be married to you!" she cried, trying to put her hands on his chest. "She has deceived you and hurt you. Let me help you forget her. You and I were meant to be together from the beginning."

He grabbed her hands before she could touch him and pushed her off him, not caring how her face crumpled.

"I never had any intentions of marrying you or anyone else," he told her. "I see you as nothing more than a sister."

"But you married her!" Joana cried, startling him. "I've known you longer than she has. I know everything about you and have kept your secrets. I have seen your secret smiles and how you watch me when I walk. How can you say you don't love me?"

She looked so unlike herself that he couldn't believe it. Neither did he care. His skin crawled where she'd touched him, and he couldn't believe she'd even kissed him.

He was still having a hard time believing that Arabella had truly said she wanted their relationship to end and was determined to get the truth from the source. He was tired of hiding and burying things. He wanted to know—no, needed to know if they were going to remain married.

"I did marry her, and I hope you remember that," he warned her. "I will forget what you did tonight, but I warn you never to attempt such folly again."

"What does she have that I don't?" he heard her whimper as he stepped out the door, heading towards Arabella's chamber.

He couldn't help but recall how his wife's eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, or her uncontrollable love for sweets. He loved how polite she was to the servants and how she'd immediately integrated herself into his family.

He loved how, in just a few days, she'd turned his whole world upside down and wrecked the self-control that had been his pride, making him feel so many confusing things all at once.

He'd written bloody poetry about her!

He loved…

He loved her.

And he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that he had fallen in love so quickly, when he'd said he wasn't capable of such a paltry emotion. Yet, it had crept up on him like a slow stream, knocking down the walls he'd built around his heart.

"Fuck," he breathed, drawing to a halt.

He loved her.

Somehow, he'd come to love his wife, and he didn't know how to feel about it.

Fear snaked down his spine as he wondered if she'd really said those things, but he pushed forward.

He needed to know the truth of her heart. If she did want to end things, he'd make a good case for them. There was no way he would let her go so easily now that he realized how much he wanted her.