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‘No, Edmund…’
‘And who can blame him?’ he continued. ‘You are indeed a fair maiden, Miss Linton. Every gentleman in England should be seeking your hand. You…’ his voice broke, and after a moment he continued: ‘You are far too good and beautiful for common folk.’
‘Edmund! What are you saying?’ She cried out.
‘I am saying goodbye, Miss Linton.’
‘Goodbye? Edmund, why do you torture me so? And why so distant? Why call me Miss Linton?’
‘You are right,’ he said in the same hollow voice. ‘I should call you Lady Wilkins. For that is who you soon shall be.’
Apparently, I had been wrong before: Ella had still some colour left to drain from her face. It vanished at Edmund’s words, plummeting towards the earth’s core.
Suddenly not at all amused by the scene, I sat up straight, staring whole arsenals of daggers at Edmund.
What was that bastard doing? Was he so heartless that he could just stand there and hurt my little sister? He should be pulling her into his arms and telling her all would be all right! After climbing over the fence, that is.
‘I will never marry Sir Philip,’ Ella proclaimed. ‘Never!’
‘But why not?’ Edmund asked, his voice still as hollow and dead as an entire graveyard. ‘Is he not a most eligible match?’
‘I do not care how eligible he is,’ sniffled Ella, taking two rapid steps towards the fence. Edmund stepped back hastily as she stuck her hand through the poles, trying to reach him. ‘I… I…’
‘Yes? You?’ he inquired and his voice wasn’t quite as dead as before.
‘I love you, Edmund.’
‘Ah. A platonic love, surely, since you are soon to be married?’
‘No! A lover’s love, Edmund. If I could, I would be thine, to have and to hold.’
‘Oh Ella! Come into my arms!’
What the heck? Just ten seconds ago he was egging her on to marry somebody else, and now he wanted them to snuggle? If all lovers behaved like this, they should be summarily committed to lunatic asylums!
Surely, Ella would be too proud and self-respecting to throw herself at a man who had just scorned her?
‘Oh, Edmund, my love!’
No, apparently she wasn’t.
I watched in mingled horror and fascination as she indeed threw herself into his arms, or at least as well as she could with the fence in the way. I wondered how long it was going to take one of them to think of the ladder leaning against the garden shed. Probably a good long time still.
Anyway, both of them seemed to be much too honourable to just throw themselves at each other. I had expected at least some action and was a tiny bit disappointed when they only took hold of each other’s hands and stared into each other’s eyes. I had seen both of their pairs of eyes before. They weren’t that interesting.
‘So you do not simply feel friendship for me?’ Edmund demanded, his voice deep with emotion. ‘There is more?’
A little colour returned to Ella’s cheeks. ‘You know there is.’
‘Yes, but the delight of hearing you say it…’ He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing blissfully. ‘There is no song of angels that is sweeter to my ears.’
Yes. He really read too many romance novels.
My little sister, not in the least repelled by his sappiness, took one of his hands and lightly pressed it to her cheek. Now we were getting somewhere!
‘I love you, Edmund.’
When Edmund opened his eyes again, they looked a little more interesting than before. Certainly more intense.
