Chapter 20

20

E dward remained in his carriage after it pulled up in front of Adrian's home. He took a deep breath. Expelled it again. Part of him dreaded what the evening would bring even as he looked forward to spending time with his friend. It had been months since they'd last sat down together and talked.

Too long .

A lot had happened in the time since. Adrian had married and Edward…

He stared toward the handsome building he was about to visit, at the white columns flanking the black front door where a brass knocker waited for him to announce his arrival. The last time he dined here, he'd sat across from Adrian's sister, Evie.

The memory of her smiling at him with warmth in her eyes, a stray lock of brown hair curling softly against her brow, made every breath hurt. It felt like his ribs were curling, digging into his lungs and squeezing around his heart.

Almost four months.

That was how long it had been since her death.

To think the world had gone on without her, that he was finding the will to do so—to get out of bed every morning, dress, eat, and manage estate matters only to repeat the process the next day—was hard to comprehend. But getting foxed and sleeping all day was not an option.

Not when he had responsibilities to tend to, a mother and sisters who depended on him. He had to stay strong for them. Carry on. Find a way through this crippling heartache. His throat tightened and his eyes began to sting once more.

Christ, he was a mess. Hell, the fact that he'd used the deception he'd crafted with Adrian's wife to create for himself the one moment he'd longed to experience with Evie proved how destroyed he was. He'd put everything into that kiss, a kiss intended to catch Evie's killer, losing himself to devastation and the reality filling his soul.

The guilt that clawed at him daily, reminding him that he was a coward, a fool who'd wasted precious time waiting for the right moment to declare himself to Evie. Had he only acted sooner, told her how he felt – how deeply he loved her – she would have become his wife.

The events put in motion to ruin her reputation would not have worked against a married woman, which meant that the killer would not have singled her out and that Evie would still be alive.

With a ragged exhalation, he closed his eyes against his surroundings, against the ethereal glow of the dimming light as day gave way to evening. He wasn't sure how he managed to find the strength to reach for the door handle. Could not recall crossing the pavement or knocking upon the door. It swung open and Edward blinked at the butler.

"Good evening, my lord," said Elks, stepping aside to grant Edward entry. "Please come in."

Edward crossed the threshold and took off his hat. The door closed behind him with a soft snick. This wasn't the first time he'd come here since Evie's death. He'd visited once or twice before. But it was the first time he'd have to sit at the dining room table without her there to encourage Adrian to tell some outrageous story.

Like how he'd climbed an oak tree when he was eight years old in order to catch a glimpse through a brothel window, or hitched a ride with a peddler after his horse had lost a shoe. Edward already knew every story well, but he'd enjoyed the enthusiasm with which Evie listened to each retelling.

"My lord?"

Edward realized Elks was waiting for him to hand over his hat. He apologized for the delay and gave it to him, then pulled off his gloves and dropped them inside. Elks set the items aside on a hallway table, then preceded Edward toward the parlor door where he knocked.

Numb feet carried Edward forward. His arrival was announced and he entered, his attention going straight to Adrian, the only other person capable of comprehending the depth of his grief.

"It's good to see you again," Adrian said, standing to greet him. He stuck out his hand and Edward took it, the firm shake followed by a brotherly hug they only permitted themselves in private.

"You too." A solid pat on the back and they stepped apart. Edward fought the emotion pouring through him and managed a smile. "I'm glad your wife invited me to join you for dinner."

"She mentioned your being away at Longmeadow this past month. Care for some port?" Adrian asked the question while turning toward the sideboard.

"Please." Edward took a deep breath and expelled it. "The estate needed my attention and it's been a while since I last saw Mama. It was time."

"I understand." Adrian handed Edward a glass and clinked his own against it. They each took a sip of their drink. "And how is she faring?"

"Well enough, considering her age. She's taken up baking, says she enjoys kneading the dough. I'm not sure I understand it, to be honest, but it seems to make her happy."

The bread rolls she'd made while he was there had actually been rather good. Not quite up to Cook's standards, but tasty enough when slathered with butter and jam.

"And your sisters? I trust you saw them as well while you were in the area?"

Edward nodded. Neither Lavinia nor Theodora cared for London, preferring the peaceful serenity of the countryside over the chaos and filth of the City. Though they had been presented at court when they debuted, they'd quickly returned to Longmeadow where they'd both met their future husbands – Lavinia while enjoying an evening out at the local assembly hall and Theodora the following year while shopping for the next book she wanted to read.

Both were now comfortably situated and, most importantly, happy. Edward hated himself for envying that, but it was hard not to when both had found the love matches he'd been denied.

"Lavinia's youngest sprained her foot while I was there. She's incredibly lively – can't sit still for one second. So it made sense that she would try balancing along the edge of a fence."

"I take it she fell?"

Edward shook his head. "Landed wrong when she hopped down."

"Sounds like she keeps her mother busy."

"She'll have another cousin soon. Theodora is once again expecting." Edward reached for the decanter so he could top up his glass. "Mama is naturally delighted by the prospect of becoming a grandmama for the fifth time. "

"And you?" Adrian asked, eyes carefully searching Edward's. "How do you feel about it?"

"The same. Naturally." That all too familiar ache began building behind his breastbone again.

He drank some more port. Prayed the liquor would soon have the soothing effect he needed to get through the rest of this evening. How many glasses had he downed since that tragic May day? An endless amount, though not nearly as much as he wanted – never enough to find the oblivion he so desperately craved. He would never be reckless enough to venture down such a disastrous path. Not when he had family to care for.

"It's nice to get out of the City when possible," Adrian mused. "If you recall, Samantha and I travelled to Deerhaven Park after our wedding. Spent a couple of weeks there."

Edward had visited the estate only a handful of times, but he'd enjoyed each one. Nestled between expansive heaths, lush forests, and the sea, Adrian's ancestral home made for the perfect retreat. They'd ridden there, hunted together, and dived from rocks jutting out from the sandy shore.

"That must have been wonderfully romantic." Edward aimed for a cheeky look.

Something unpleasant flickered in Adrian's gaze. He sipped his port, banked whatever it was, and produced a smile so bright Edward wondered if he'd been wrong to suppose he'd just said the wrong thing.

"It certainly was. "

And yet, there was a hint of anger to Adrian's words. Maybe even regret or some other emotion Edward couldn't quite pinpoint. Something must have happened during that wedding trip. An argument perhaps? Or something else?

Whatever the case, it was none of his business and also seemed to have been forgotten by the time Samantha came to join them. The affection Adrian showed his wife could not be disputed. More than one kiss was dropped to her cheek before dinner was over. He doted on her, allowed himself every chance he could find to compliment her one way or the other. It was lovely to see, even if it compounded his own sense of loss.

In Edward's estimation, love wasn't easy for Adrian. Despite their decades-long friendship, Edward suspected there was more to him than met the eye, that he kept a large part of himself hidden. A necessity for the sake of preserving the bond they'd forged with each other. For although Edward knew his friend to be a dependable man of principle who would tear the world apart for those dearest to him, Adrian was rumored to have done things that Edward could never accept.

But as long as there was no proof, as long as Adrian did not confide these deeds in Edward, then he could pretend there was no substance to it. He could tell people they were wrong to suppose that Adrian had a hand in Clive Newton's death.

"I realize what I'm about to say may not be well received," Adrian told him after dinner when Samantha had taken her leave and a footman had brought a bottle of sherry for them to enjoy. "But I need to tell you this."

"Tell me what?" Edward prayed his friend was not about to make some heroic confession. That his conscience was not suddenly prompting him to give Edward a difficult choice.

And yet, this was precisely what he believed Adrian planned until he said, "I want you to know that I would not blame you if you were to start considering other marital prospects."

Bloody hell. This was worse.

Edward stopped breathing. His cravat was too tight and it felt like his heart might explode from the pressure forced upon it by the relentless squeezing of his chest. His palms grew sweaty and a vein started pulsing against his right eye.

He shook his head. "No."

"You're past your thirtieth year and you're also the Earl of Marsdale," Adrian pressed on without remorse, though his gentle tone proved he knew how sensitive the subject was. "You'll need children. Heirs. And the opportunity to find the woman who'll—"

"Stop." He was suddenly at the window, peering out at a part of the garden that flanked this side of the house - a collection of bushes and trees vaguely distinguishable in the darkness. Pulse racing, he struggled to catch his breath. "There's no replacing your sister. There never will be and for you to suggest as much is—"

"Watch what you say," Adrian warned, the sudden steel in his voice prompting Edward to turn and face him. The harshness in his eyes was unmistakable. "I would never suggest replacing her, Edward. All I'm saying is that you are free to find love again, which is what I know you deserve, and what I pray you will do, if only because Evie would want for you to be happy."

The words nearly broke him. Standing there, faced with his friend's permission to move on completely, Edward feared an attempt to speak would end in tears. So he chose to say nothing, the only indication he acknowledged what Adrian said, a very slight nod. Upon which he grabbed his glass and tossed back the contents, desperately hoping that it would block out the pain.