Chapter Eighteen
Celestine was feeling nowhere near as confident as she might have appeared. All day, she had sat in a state of nervous anticipation as she considered the night that was to come.
It helped a little that Edward was confident enough for the both of them. Too often she had noticed his sideways glances, the smirk on his lips, and the way he squeezed her hand as if to remind her of what was on his mind.
So, she did her best to return these gestures. Even though she was feeling so nervous, she knew that she wanted this, just as she knew how right it was sure to feel when it happened. What was more, she trusted Edward and she held onto that trust for all it was worth.
“Here we are…” Edward’s voice broke through the silence.
She started in surprise, having lost herself in her thoughts. They sat across from one another in the carriage, but she felt itstarting to slow. Her throat restricted, she swallowed, and then she looked out the window. There on the horizon, standing out from the purple and red hues of the early evening skyline, stood Blackthorne House.
My new home…
It was not the first time that Celestine had seen it, but it felt as if it was. It came with a different feeling, as if she was about to step into a new world that she did not know. However, as she slowly started to wrestle with such feelings, Edward took her hand and his touch alone was enough to calm her.
“I want you to know that I have no regrets about today,” he said gently as he squeezed her hand. “I thought I might. I thought…” He shook his head. “Truly, until I saw you, I wondered if I might panic and run.”
“There is still time,” she said jokingly.
He laughed. “The time for running has long since passed, Celestine. Now is the time for celebration.”
“Oh…” Her voice cracked.
“Or rather, proving to ourselves that we have done the right thing. Not that I am worried, but it is best that we make sure.”
“And…” Her voice cracked again as her heart leapt through her throat. “How are we going to do that?”
In answer, he smiled at her, one that reached his eyes; those eyes shone in the darkness, the hunger in them ever-present so that Celestine felt it throughout her body.
Keeping hold of her hand, Edward helped Celestine from the carriage.
“It goes without saying that this home is now yours,” he explained as they walked down the driveway and towards the front door. There was a footman waiting for them, and he threw back the grand doors as they approached. “Whatever you want, whatever you desire, it is yours.”
“That is quite the offer.”
“The life of a duchess,” he said. “You best get used to it.”
The household staff were lined up across the foyer. Stepping from them was an elderly butler, he who was clearly in charge. He bowed deeply as Celestine and Edward came to a stop.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.”
“Charles,” Edward said. “I would like for you to meet my wife.”
“Your Grace.” Edward bowed again. “It is a pleasure, and I look forward to waiting on you.”
“Millicent?” Edward asked Charles.
“As you requested, she is not home, Your Grace,” he said. “With a friend until the morrow.”
“Good.” Edward squeezed Celestine’s hand again. “I hope that Her Grace’s things have arrived and been unpacked, Charles. You have not been slacking, have you.”
“As requested, her room has been made, and her things await her. Shall I escort you?”
“No need,” Edward said. “And that will be all.”
“My room?” Celestine asked as the two started up the stairwell. “I thought…” She looked away with embarrassment.
He chuckled. “You have your own quarters, of course. Tomorrow, I will give you a tour of the eastern wing, where they reside.”
