Gesturing towards a nearby chair, Mr. Warren offered, “Please sit. I could use the company.”
Mrs. Warren interjected, “I will return shortly.”
Mr. Warren’s gaze followed his wife’s retreating figure until she disappeared out the door. Then, in a hushed voice, heturned towards Edwina and said, “I think my wife is trying to kill me.”
Edwina eyed him warily. “Pardon?”
“She is trying to kill me with boredom,” Mr. Warren joked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “She won’t let me leave this chair.”
“That is per doctor’s orders,” Edwina reminded him.
Mr. Warren reclined back in his chair. “You sound like my wife,” he said with a wry smile.
“Good, because she is a very wise woman,” Edwina stated, daring him to contradict her.
“I am a smart enough man to not disagree with that remark,” Mr. Warren said. “How have you been faring?”
Mustering up a small smile, she replied, “I am well.”
Mr. Warren didn’t look convinced. “I would prefer the truth, if you don’t mind.”
Edwina should have known that Mr. Warren would have seen through her facade. “To be honest, I am not well. My uncle says there aren’t enough funds for me to have a Season alongside my cousins.”
“He told you this?”
With a slight hesitation, she admitted, “No, but I may have overheard it in passing.”
Mr. Warren gave her a knowing look. “You mean you were eavesdropping.”
“Perhaps,” she said, seeing no reason to conceal the truth.
“What does your aunt say?” Mr. Warren questioned.
Edwina smoothed the delicate folds of her black gown. “She is adamant that I am to have a Season, but I do not wish to upset my uncle.”
“You have always put other people before yourself, which is admirable, but not at the expense of your own future,” Mr. Warren counseled. “You deserve to have a Season.”
“What if I have a Season and I don’t get an offer of marriage?” Edwina asked.
Mr. Warren shrugged, throwing his hands up. “And what if you marry a prince?” he inquired. “You don’t know what the future holds for you.”
“I don’t aspire to marry a prince.”
“My point is, it is all right to be a little selfish every now and then.”
Edwina’s gaze drew downcast as she admitted, “My uncle considers me a burden.”
“Did he say this to you or did you overhear it?”
“Does it matter?” Edwina asked.
With displeasure in his voice, Mr. Warren said, “Since I am no longer in Lord Dallington’s employ, I can speak freely, and tell you that he was wrong to say such a thing. You are not a burden.”
“But he said it none the less.”
Mr. Warren shifted in his seat to face her. “Your father loved you, more than life itself. I have never seen a father dote on his child more than he did on you,” he remarked. “He would be furious by the ill-treatment that you are receiving from his brother.”
“Uncle isn’t entirely unkind to me,” Edwina admitted. “I know he is under immense pressure since he assumed my father’s title.”
