She brought her gaze back up. “You did, and I am rather impressed by your ability to make up words as well,” she joked.
“I learned from the best,” Miles said with a smile.
Her uncle cleared his throat. “Are you two quite finished?” he asked.
“We are,” Edwina replied.
With a sigh, her uncle rose from his seat and asked, “Why, pray tell, do you not wish to marry Lord Hilgrove?”
Edwina tilted her chin. “I have my reasons.”
“Would you care to elaborate on those?” her uncle asked.
Her aunt stepped closer to Edwina and placed a hand on her sleeve. “It is all right, Child. You do not need to tell us. We trust that you are making the right decision for yourself.”
Walking over to the drink cart, her uncle picked up a decanter and asked, “Do you like living here, Edwina?”
“I do,” she responded hesitantly, not sure where this conversation was heading.
“And do you think I will let you remain here for the remainder of your days?” her uncle inquired as he poured himself a drink.
Edwina shook her head.
Her uncle placed down the decanter and picked up his drink. “You are right. My generosity has its limits. I will not allow you to become a drain on my finances.”
“Lionel, can we discuss this in private?” her aunt asked, her words holding a warning.
Turning towards his wife, her uncle said, “We will not. It is time that Edwina understood that her time here will come to an end when she reaches her majority. If she is not married by then, she will be forced to seek out employment.”
Bennett eyed his father trepidatiously. “What about Edwina’s dowry?”
“Under her father’s stipulations, Edwina cannot access her dowry until she is twenty-five years old,” her uncle explained.
“Surely Edwina can remain with us until she is twenty-five,” her aunt remarked. “That is what Richard would have wanted.”
Her uncle stiffened. “Richard is not here, is he?” he demanded.
Edwina felt the tears burn in the back of her eyes at the mention of her father and blinked them back. However, one managed to escape and it slipped down her cheek. This wasthe moment to be brave, to inquire about her inheritance, but her words eluded her.
As she struggled to find her voice, Miles extended her a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket.
With a weak smile, she accepted it and swiped at her cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Miles’ eyes held compassion as he held her gaze. “It will be all right,” he whispered. “Trust me.”
“I do,” she responded.
Her uncle’s voice broke through their conversation. “Is everyone truly this blind?” he asked. “It is obvious that Edwina and Miles care for one another.”
“Perhaps, but you must let them find their own path,” her aunt insisted.
Bennett shifted in his stance before saying, “As enjoyable as this conversation is, we did want to speak to you about something much more important.”
Her uncle lifted his brow. “More important than my niece refusing to marry a wealthy earl?”
“Yes, it has to do with the funding you are providing to the village,” Bennett replied.
With a scoff, her uncle placed his glass down onto the desk. “What do those ingrates want now?” he asked.
