He seemed to realize the lack of tact in what he had said, as he sank back on his haunches, still holding her hands. “I have been an idiot, Isolde. For years, I have had a… set of rules that I abide by, in order to alleviate the guilt that I hold in my heart. Those rules were designed to prevent me from feeling happiness, and when I felt happiness with you, I pulled away because I thought those rules were more important than anything. I have since discovered that one thing is more important.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I am listening.”
“Youare more important, Isolde.” His throat bobbed. “And though I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, I want you to understand why I have behaved so badly.”
She glanced over at the counter, but Madame Versailles and Teresa had still not emerged… almost as if they were hiding back there deliberately, allowing Edmund and Isolde to have a moment alone. It reeked of organized deception, which baffled her more than trying to comprehend what Edmund was saying.
“You felt guilty? Why?” she asked.
He hesitated, dropping his gaze. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
She nodded.
“I had… just lost my entire family. We were venturing to our house by the sea, but the weather turned foul, and a fog rolled in across the roads. The driver did not see the carriage coming in the opposite direction until it was too late, and it was moving too fast.”
He cleared his throat, his voice thick. “The crash was… brutal. The carriage was thrown off the road, and it rolled down a hill. I do not remember much. I think I was rendered unconscious, but when I woke up, I was alone on a tree stump with a blanket around me, and a stranger was apologizing profusely for what had happened. I must have asked where my family was, because he told me, with tears streaming down his face, that they were gone.
“My mother, my father, my sister, my grandmother—there one moment, talking about how excited they were to swim in the sea, and then… just gone. I did not understand why I was alive, andthey were not. I have never understood it, and… denying myself what they could not be there to share or see or enjoy became… a way of life that I relied on. It is why I vowed to never marry. I did not want a legacy that they would not be there to witness. I did not want to be happy if they were not there to share in my joy. I did not want to have what my sister, especially, would never have.”
Isolde gaped at him, her heart stinging. She had known some of what he had just said, through Vincent, but she had not realized just how much he had lost. Nor had she realized how much it had haunted him, which made her feel awful about the tricks and jests she had played upon him, at a time when just waking up must have been a great effort.
“So, when I realized that I was falling in love with you,” he continued, “I retreated from it. I was overcome with a tremendous wave of guilt, and I thought that distancing myself would make it go away. Instead, I just… missed you. The regret of not being near you was greater than the guilt, and these past weeks, I haveonlyfelt regret.”
He… loves me?The shock was a visceral blow to her chest. She should have been leaping for joy, throwing her arms around him and confessing the truth of her own heart, but a different feeling rushed to the fore.
“What is wrong with you?” she rasped, shaking her head at him. “Why did you not say any of this before? Why make me think that you were toying with me, injuring me with your mercurial moods? I would have understood if you had beenhonest! Indeed, why say that you could only offer a marriage of convenience when, if you had said what you have just said, I would have accepted your proposal!”
She was furious. Furious and frustrated that she was now embroiled in an engagement she did want because he had been too afraid to be truthful. She liked to think she was a fairly reasonable person; she could have forgiven him if he had explained in detail. Instead, he had let her think that he was not interested and had scurried off to the countryside without another word.
Edmund blinked. “I made a mistake.”
“I should say!” she retorted. “Indeed, I would like to ask why you have had a sudden change of heart?”
“Because I finally found the courage to admit something I have not told anyone before—about my guilt, about the shame that I have carried. You are the first person I havewantedto tell. It has come a little late, admittedly, but I cannot lose you, Isolde.” He gripped her hands tighter. “I love you, and I am sorry it has taken me so long to confess it.”
Hedoeslove me…
She pulled her hands back. “I am getting married in two weeks, Edmund! There will be a scandal, my family will suffer,Iwill suffer, and… you have just waltzed in here with your charming confession, sending my mind into a spiral! Why on earth did you not say somethingbeforeI became engaged? My goodness, youhave such atrocious timing! I do not know whether to embrace you or smack you!”
He laughed, gaining a sharp glare.
“Isolde, if marrying Noah is what you desire, then I shall not stand in your way,” he said. “So, tell me—is it what you want? And do not speak of duty or scandal or your worries about society’s opinion. Just tell me truthfully if he is everything you hoped for.”
Isolde scoffed, as incensed as she was moved. “Just because he is not does not mean that you are, Edmund.” She rolled her eyes. “No, he is not what I want. I have been dreading the wedding ever since the engagement was announced. What is more, I do not think he wants to marry me either, but what is done is done. I have to do my duty now. So, thank you for making it even harder than it already was.”
He smiled—one of his rarest, most genuine smiles. Why he was so cheerful after what she had just said, she did not know. Could he not see that it was hopeless? Was he glad that his confession had come to naught?
“What if I told you that I could take care of the betrothal?” he said, lifting his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing the flushed apple of it. “What if I told you that your brother is waiting for me to give him good news, and that you will not have to worry about anything?”
She squinted at him, gesturing at the shop around her, where swathes of fabric spilled from their colorful rolls. “Did you organize this? Did you arrange this so you could make a dramatic confession, leaving me oblivious all this time?”
“Your brother did,” Edmund replied. “He came to me yesterday and told me you were unhappy. He said that if I felt something for you, I should act now. And I do feel something for you, in case you missed it the first two times. I love you, Isolde. I will make all of this right, if you will consent to be my wife. Not in a marriage of convenience, but in a marriage of love.”
“That is very presumptuous,” she muttered, her heart pounding, her soul screaming for her to put him out of his misery and just tell him that she loved him too. But she had suppressed her stubbornness for years, and it wanted to make itself known one last time.
“Is it?” he murmured with a smile, as he leaned in.
The first searing graze of his lips against hers blew all of the obstinacy out of her veins, softening her temper, soothing the jagged edges of her frustrated ire. Perhaps, that was why he had done it, and she found she did not care. She just wanted to enjoy the singular pleasure of kissing the man she loved, without worrying about everything that might come with it.
