Page 34 of A Wallflower for the Disguised Earl

Edmund turned and walked away, his chest feeling tight and restricted. He had done what was necessary. He had protected Arabella from a disaster she could not possibly see coming. But the hollow, wounded look in Julian’s eyes haunted him as he made his way back into the glittering crowd.

He will not stay away from her, Edmund realized, the cold certainty settling over him like a lead weight.

He found Arabella a few minutes later. She was standing near a tall window in the main drawing room, her back to the party, staring out into the dark, lamp-lit street. She looked so young in the soft candlelight, her posture stiff and isolated, and Edmund felt a surge of protective fury that Julian had dared to blur the lines of their arrangement.

“Arabella,” he said quietly, approaching her with careful steps. “I need to speak with you.”

She turned slowly to face him. Her brown eyes were completely guarded, her expression composed. “I thought you might.”

“About Mr. Marsh,” Edmund began, keeping his voice low and carefully measured. “I need you to maintain your distance. He is not… he is not what he appears to be.”

Arabella looked at him for a long, silent moment. She didn’t blink. Then, she spoke, her voice completely calm, deliberate, and utterly devastating.

“You have constructed an elaborate, massive lie, Edmund,” she said quietly, her words cutting through the air like a knife. “A lie that is actively hurting innocent people. You have absolutely no standing to instruct anyone on what to be careful about.”

Edmund opened his mouth to respond, but his throat seized. He had expected her to be upset, to be confused, or perhaps to offer a tearful argument. He had not expected her to dismantle his entire moral authority with a single, precise sentence.

“You are deceiving the Ashwell family,” Arabella continued, her voice remaining perfectly steady. “You are deceiving Vivienne, who genuinely believes she is being courted by a wealthy earl. You are deceiving Corinna, who has no idea that the man she is growing attached to is not a secretary at all. And you are deceiving yourself, Edmund, if you actually think that any of this is justified.”

Edmund stared at her, the brutal truth of her words settling over him like a physical blow. He had no defense.

“I am doing what I must do,” he finally managed to say, his voice rough. “I am trying to protect this family. I am trying to ensure that I do not make the same catastrophic mistake I made with Cecily.”

“By making an entirely different mistake?” Arabella asked, her eyes flashing with anger. “By lying to everyone around you and convincing yourself that you are doing it for their own good?”

Edmund had no answer. He stood there, his hands clenched tightly at his sides, listening as his quiet sister delivered the truth he had been running from for weeks.

“I saw Cecily tonight,” Arabella said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I saw the way she walked into this room and touched Julian. I saw the way she looked at him, like he was a possession she had every right to claim. And I saw you standing in the corner, Edmund, doing absolutely nothing to stop her.”

“She is a complication,” Edmund said stiffly. “I am handling it.”

“Are you?” Arabella asked, tilting her chin up. “Because from where I stand, it looks remarkably like she is handling you. She attached herself to your best friend, and you let her. You let her parade him around the room like a trophy. You let her mark her territory in front of the entire society.”

She is right, Edmund thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat. I stood there and let her do it because I was too terrified of exposing the masquerade to fight back.

“What exactly do you intend to do about her?” Arabella pressed, refusing to let him off the hook. “She is a threat. To Julian. To Corinna. To all of us. And you are standing here lecturing me about parlor etiquette while she runs circles around you.”

Edmund opened his mouth to defend himself, to offer some logical justification for his strategic retreat, but he snapped it shut. He had nothing to say. He had been so focused on managing the immediate crisis of Julian’s wandering attention that he had completely failed to address the lethal threat Cecily represented.

“Go,” Arabella said quietly, turning her face back toward the dark window. “Go and figure out what you are going to do about her. And do not come to me with warnings about Julian until you have sorted out your own house.”

Edmund backed away, his mind reeling. He had approached her to offer protection, to act as the responsible older brother. Instead, she had exposed his failures with a clinical precision that left him entirely unmoored.

He made his way back through the drawing room, the noise of the party suddenly grating against his nerves. He found Julian standing near the refreshment table, holding a glass of wine. Julian was wearing a carefully pleasant expression for the benefit of a passing duke, but Edmund could see the tension in his shoulders and the tight lines bracketing his mouth.

I asked him to risk everything for me, Edmund thought, stopping a few paces away. And now I am asking him to sacrifice the one genuine connection he has found in this entire miserable city.

He walked over and stood beside Julian, their shoulders almost brushing. They did not speak for a long moment, simply watching the glittering crowd swirl around them.

“I am sorry,” Edmund said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the room. “I should not have spoken to you the way I did in the hallway. You are my friend. You have risked your freedom for me, and I…”

“It does not matter,” Julian interrupted, his voice completely flat. “You were right. I have been careless. I have been selfish. I have been thinking about what I want instead of what is required to keep us out of a London prison.”

“That is not what I meant,” Edmund said, turning his head. “Julian, look at me.”

Julian turned slowly. His dark eyes met Edmund’s, and the raw exhaustion written across his features was startling. There was no anger there, no burning resentment. There was only a quiet, stubborn resolve that looked suspiciously like grief.

“I meant what I said,” Edmund continued, his voice dropping. “I can see it in your face. But you have to try. For her sake. If anyone discovers the truth, if anyone sees through the act…”