Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

" I s everything all right, my dear?" Edmund murmured, his lips close to Adeline's ear.

Her eyes darted away from his. "Perfectly fine, Your Grace. Why do you ask?"

Edmund's frown deepened. The formality in her voice was a stark contrast to the warmth they'd shared in recent days.

As they moved through the steps of the dance, he tried to catch her eye, but she seemed determined to look anywhere but at him.

"You seem… distracted," he noted, his voice low and intimate. "Perhaps I could help you focus your attention elsewhere?"

He allowed his hand to slide lower on her back, remembering how she had shivered at his touch earlier. But instead of the soft gasp he expected, her spine went rigid.

"I don't think that would be appropriate, Your Grace," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Edmund's steps faltered for a moment, surprise and confusion warring within him. What had happened to change her demeanor so drastically?

As he scanned the room, his eyes landed on a flash of crimson silk.

Joanna. Of course .

He should have known she wouldn't be content to leave well enough alone.

"Adeline," he began, his voice softening. "Whatever Joanna said to you?—"

"I don't wish to discuss Lady Strathmore," Adeline cut him off, her green eyes finally meeting his.

The hurt and uncertainty he saw there made his chest tighten uncomfortably.

As the music drew to a close, Adeline stepped back from him, dipping into a perfect curtsy. "Thank you for the dance, Your Grace. If you'll excuse me, I believe I see my sister preparing to leave. I'd like to say my goodbyes."

Before Edmund could protest, she had turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him standing alone on the dance floor.

He watched her go, frustration and concern churning in his gut. He should follow her, he knew. Should explain about Joanna, about their past, about the letters…

He hesitated, wondering if keeping his distance truly protected him or if it was only deepening the chasm between them.

Could opening up to Adeline, letting her see the truth, be the only way forward?

"Well, well," a painfully familiar voice purred from behind him. "The great Duke of Holbrook, abandoned on the dance floor. How… unexpected."

Edmund turned, his face a mask of cool indifference as he met Joanna's calculating gaze. "Lady Strathmore," he said, his voice clipped. "Funny seeing you again."

Joanna's painted lips curled into a predatory smile. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you here. Social gatherings were never quite your… forte."

"People change," Edmund replied, his tone glacial. "Though I suppose that concept might be foreign to you."

A flash of anger sparked in Joanna's eyes, quickly masked by a throaty laugh. "Oh, Edmund. Still so quick with that sharp tongue of yours. I've missed our little… exchanges."

Edmund felt his patience wearing thin. "What do you want, Joanna? I'm sure you didn't come over here simply to reminisce about old times."

"Can't an old friend simply wish to catch up?" Joanna asked, batting her eyelashes in a way that might have once sent his heart racing. Now, it only served to irritate him further.

"We were never friends, Joanna," Edmund stated flatly. "And whatever hold you think you still have over me, I assure you, it's long gone."

Joanna's smile faltered for a moment before returning, sharper than before. "Is that so? Then tell me, Edmund, who has a hold over you now? Your precious Duchess, perhaps?"

Edmund felt his muscles tense, anger coiling in his gut.

"No one has a hold over me," he growled, the words coming out harsher than he had intended.

Joanna's eyes gleamed with triumph. "Oh, Edmund," she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "It's clear you're falling for her. But we both know you'll never truly let her in. You're too afraid, too damaged by what happened between us."

Edmund clenched his hands at his sides, fighting the urge to lash out. "You know nothing about my relationship with Adeline," he spat.

"Don't I?" Joanna countered, leaning in close. "I know you, Edmund, better than anyone. I know how you guard your heart, how you push people away before they can hurt you. It's only a matter of time before your lovely Duchess tires of your cold facade. And when she does…" she trailed off, her fingertips ghosting along his arm. "Well, you know where to find me."

With a final, knowing smirk, she turned and sauntered away, leaving him rooted to the spot, his mind reeling.

As the crowd of dancers swirled around him, Edmund found himself grappling with the truth of Joanna's words.

He was falling for Adeline.

The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow. The warmth he felt in her presence, the way his heart raced when she smiled, the deep-seated need to protect her from the cruelty of the ton… it all pointed to one inevitable conclusion.

But even as he acknowledged this truth to himself, fear gripped his heart. The memory of Joanna's betrayal, of finding her in his father's arms, flashed through his mind. The pain of that moment, the shattering of his trust and his innocence, still haunted him. Could he truly open himself up to that kind of vulnerability again?

His eyes searched the crowded ballroom, seeking out Adeline's familiar form. He spotted her across the room, engaged in conversation with her sister.

Even from a distance, he could see the tension in her posture, the forced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. He had done that to her, he realized with a pang of guilt. His inability to let her in, to trust her fully, was causing her pain.

For a moment, he was tempted to go to her, to pull her aside and explain everything. To lay bare his fears, his insecurities, his growing feelings for her. But the thought of exposing himself so completely made his chest sink with anxiety.

What if she rejected him? What if, once she knew the full extent of his past, she found him unworthy?

Adeline's hand trembled as she raised it to knock on Edmund's door. The silence of the carriage ride home still rang in her ears, a stark contrast to the thundering of her heart. She hesitated, her knuckles a hair's breadth from the polished wood.

Knock, knock.

The sound echoed in the empty corridor. Adeline held her breath, counting the seconds until she heard footsteps approaching from within.

The door swung open, revealing Edmund in his shirtsleeves, his cravat discarded. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of her.

"Adeline? Is everything all right?"

She lifted her chin, steeling herself. "Why didn't you tell me about Joanna?"

Edmund's jaw clenched. He stepped back, gesturing for her to enter. "Come in. We shouldn't discuss this in the hallway."

Adeline swept past him, the swish of her skirts unnaturally loud in the tense silence. She turned to face him as he closed the door.

"Well?" she prompted.

Edmund ran a hand through his hair, mussing the dark locks. "It doesn't matter. That's why."

"Doesn't matter?" Adeline's voice rose. "I saw you speaking with her at the ball. And the letters, Edmund. How long have you been receiving them?"

His eyes flashed. "How do you know about the letters?"

"So it's true," she breathed, her suspicions confirmed. "Why keep them secret? Why not tell me?"

Edmund clenched his fists at his sides. "Because it's not important. Joanna is trying to make me miserable, to meddle in my life. I didn't see the point in dignifying her attempts with a response."

Adeline took a step closer, her eyes searching his face. "Even so, you should have told me. We're married, Edmund. Don't you trust me?"

"Trust has nothing to do with it," he snapped. "It's not a real issue. I'm handling it."

"Handling it?" Adeline's laugh was brittle. "By ignoring it and hoping it goes away? By keeping secrets from your wife?"

Edmund turned away, striding to the window. "You're making too much of this, Adeline. It's in the past."

She watched his rigid posture, the tension in his shoulders. "Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it seems very much in the present."

He whirled to face her, his eyes stormy. "What do you want from me, Adeline? A detailed account of every interaction I've ever had with Joanna? Every mistake I've made?"

"I want honesty!" she cried, her composure cracking. "I want to know that when something's troubling you, you'll come to me. That you'll let me in."

Edmund's laugh was harsh. "Let you in? To what end? So you can use it against me later? So you can leave when you realize what a broken mess you've married?"

Adeline recoiled as if slapped. "Is that what you think of me? That I'd use your vulnerabilities against you?"

"It's what people do," he growled. "They get close, they learn your weaknesses, and then they strike."

"I'm not ‘people,' Edmund," Adeline said, her voice soft but firm. "I'm your wife."

He turned away again, his shoulders hunched. "A wife of convenience."

The words stung, but Adeline pressed on. "Is that all I am to you? A convenient arrangement?"

Edmund's silence was deafening.

Adeline's heart raced, fear and hope warring within her. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Edmund, look at me."

He turned back slowly, his face a mask of careful indifference.

"Could you ever love me?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

Edmund's eyes widened, a flicker of something—panic or longing?—crossing his face before it smoothed into blankness once more.

"Love is a fool's game, Adeline," he stated, his voice cold. "I thought you were more sensible than that."

Adeline felt as though the floor had dropped out from beneath her. She stumbled back a step, her hand flying to her scarred cheek.

"I see," she whispered. "You can't even bring yourself to say it, can you? That the very sight of me disgusts you."

Edmund's brow furrowed. "What? Adeline, that's not—it's not about your scars at all."

"Then what is it about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, hope and fear warring in her eyes.

Edmund opened his mouth and then closed it again, fumbling for the right words. The silence stretched on, his face a battlefield of warring emotions.

Adeline waited, her heart in her throat. But no explanation came.

Finally, she nodded, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "I see. I'm going to retire to my room."

She turned to leave, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

"Adeline, wait!" Edmund called, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

She paused at the door, her hand on the knob. "What is it, Your Grace?"

Hearing his title seemed to knock the wind out of him. He opened his mouth again, but then he shook his head.

Adeline hung her head in resignation. "Goodnight, Edmund."

The door clicked shut behind her with a finality that echoed in the room.

Edmund stood frozen, staring at the space she had occupied moments ago. His chest ached, a physical pain that threatened to overwhelm him.

Go after her , a voice in his head screamed. Tell her the truth. Tell her you're falling in love with her .

But his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by years of carefully constructed defenses.

Outside in the hallway, Adeline leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her sobs. She had laid her heart bare, and Edmund had all but crushed it beneath his heel.

She pushed off the wall, stumbling towards her chambers. Her mind raced, replaying every moment of their argument.

How could she have been so foolish? To think that someone like Edmund could ever truly love someone like her?

As she closed her bedroom door behind her, her resolve hardened. She couldn't stay here, couldn't continue this charade of a marriage. Not when every moment in Edmund's presence was a reminder of what she could never have.

With shaking hands, she began to pack a small valise. She would go to her father's house, she decided. Isabella would be there, would offer her comfort until she could figure out what to do next.

As she folded a simple day dress, a knock sounded at her door. Adeline froze, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Adeline?" Edmund's voice was muffled through the wood. "Please, can we talk?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing away the surge of hope that threatened to overtake her. "There's nothing left to say, Your Grace."

A pause, then, "I disagree. Please, open the door."

Adeline's hand hovered over the doorknob. Part of her longed to fling it open, to fall into Edmund's arms and forget this nightmare of an evening had ever happened.

But the memory of his cold dismissal, of the disgust she imagined in his eyes when he looked at her scars, held her back.

"Goodnight, Edmund," she called, her voice steadier than she felt. "I think it's best if we both get some rest."

She heard a soft thud, as if he had rested his forehead against the door. "Adeline, please. I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean?—"

"It doesn't matter what you meant," she interrupted, her voice cracking. "Your actions speak loudly enough. Now please, leave me be."

Another long pause, then the sound of retreating footsteps.

Adeline sank onto the edge of her bed, her legs no longer able to support her. Her tears flowed freely now, soaking into the delicate silk of her ball gown.

How had everything gone so wrong? Just hours ago, she had been dancing in Edmund's arms, her heart full of hope for their future together. And now…

She glanced at the half-packed valise, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. Perhaps going to her father's house was not the answer, not yet. She needed time to think, to plan her next move carefully.

With a heavy sigh, Adeline rose and began to undress. She would sleep on it, she decided. In the morning, she would decide with a clear head what to do.

But as she lay in bed, staring at the canopy above, she knew sleep would elude her. The memory of Edmund's face, of the pain and fear she had glimpsed beneath his mask of indifference, haunted her.

Oh, Edmund . What happened to make you so afraid of love?