“Besides,” she added. “I already have another proposal to consider, andthatis an offer of love.”
“What?” Edmund and Vincent both asked in unison, one with an anguished frown, the other with a tone of pleasant surprise.
She got to her feet and curtseyed to Edmund, who was rising up from his fruitless proposal. Her eyes followed him up to his full height, briefly lamenting the fact that she would never feel safe in his arms again, experiencing the singular wonder of him curving himself around her, as if he really would be a shield between her and anything that would cause her harm.
But he could not shield her from himself, and that was the problem.
“The Viscount,” she said curtly. “He has sent me gifts every day, and notes asking when he might see me again, for he has something very important to ask me. I hate to assume, but he is so… open with me that I do not think I am mistaken; I believe I know what the question will be.”
Vincent nodded, clapping Edmund on the back. “That must be a relief for you! I can certainly say it is a relief for me. Heavens, I thought I would have to brace myself for your entry into spinsterhood!”
Edmund did not say anything; he just stared at Isolde, his expression unreadable.
“The Viscount does not wear a mask when he is with me,” Isolde said, unable to help herself. “Indeed, I think I shall be very happy. So, if you will excuse me, I have preparations to make for this evening’s dinner party.”
She walked out of the room and up the stairs at a measured pace, only running the last short stretch to her bedchamber. Once she was inside, she closed the door behind her and pressed her back to it, panting hard as her heart wavered in her chest and tears threatened to fall once more.
For days, in her melancholic stupor, she had prayed that Edmund would come to the house and declare that he had changed his mind and wanted to court her, apologizing as profusely as he had during the strawberry tart incident. When he had not, the crack in her heart had widened.
Now, it splintered altogether, as she realized with all certainty that he was never, ever going to change his mind. He did not love her. He would not love her. Indeed, he would not even entertain the idea, leaving her with just one option: to throw herself into the next best thing, hoping it would not be the greatest mistake of her life.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Will you be at the dinner party tonight?” Vincent asked, leading Edmund to the front door.
Edmund barely heard his friend’s question, his gaze turned back toward the staircase, wondering what Isolde was doing. She had not given him a second glance when she left the drawing room, and it stuck in his chest like a rope of thorns, wrapping around the hilt of the icy blade that she had firmly driven into his heart with the words, “Besides, I already have another proposal to consider, andthatis an offer of love.”
“Tonight? I… had not given it much thought,” he replied. “After all, I assumed I would be in Davenport for the foreseeable. I also assumed that you would not want to be in my company for a while.”
In truth, I expected that I would lose both of you in one fell swoop.
Whether or not the kiss had ever been revealed to Vincent, Edmund had known that he would not be welcome at the Grayling townhouse or the Grayling estate again. Not until Isolde was married and living elsewhere, at least.
He had not thought that day would come so soon, nor had he suspected how much it would hurt.
Vincent laughed and patted Edmund on the shoulder, though there was a warning in his voice as he said, “As long as you swear not to cause any further upset or do anything to disrupt this… courtship of hers, I see no reason why we cannot continue on as before. It was clearly an error in judgment. If Isolde can move past it, so can I.”
“If it is what she wants, I will not intervene,” Edmund replied, hating each word.
Vincent smiled. “Good. Well then, I shall see you this evening. If not, then let us make time to attend Golding’s one day this week—perhaps, if all proceeds well with the Viscount, I will have something to celebrate.” His eyes brightened. “I could even bring him along. It would be a fine thing to get acquainted with him, if he is to be one of the family.”
Like one of the vivid, visceral memories that assaulted his mind from time to time, Edmund suddenly saw the version of the future that had just been set in motion: Noah becoming like a brother to Vincent, Noah and Isolde greeting her family on the porch of Grayling House after months apart, Noah and Isolde celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, holidaysas a couple and as an extended part of the Wilds family. Then, Noah and Isolde announcing the arrival of their first child, their second, their third, building a family together.
It was a vivid future in which Noah had taken the place that Edmund had not realized he wanted for himself.
“Edmund?” Vincent nudged him. “Are you well? You cannot bethatappalled by the idea of inviting this Viscount along to Golding’s.”
Edmund shook off the visions, forcing a smile. “Not at all. The more the merrier.” He opened the front door and stepped out. “I will see you this evening.”
“I look forward to it,” Vincent replied, raising his hand in a wave as Edmund walked off up the street.
Out of sight of the townhouse, Edmund paused and bent at the waist, stooping to catch his breath. He knew he was doing the right thing by Isolde, giving her the chance to find someone worthier, but he had never expected that denying himself the privilege of a happy future with her would sting so much.
I should have asked her differently.He flinched, expelling a rough breath.I should have told her that I would try to be what she wanted, if she would just say yes.
But it was too late now. She had rejected him, and rightly so, for he had made a very poor offer. To make matters worse, he hadnot even offered the full extent of what he was willing to give, if it meant that he could have her as his wife.
When he had made the vow to never marry, he had meant it wholeheartedly. He had wanted the punishment of it, to alleviate just a little bit of the guilt he carried with him. But, stubborn and defiant and tricky as she was, Isolde had swept back into his life like a whirlwind and turned everything upside down.
