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Chapter Twelve
The two foils clanged against each other. Edward gritted his teeth to counter the brunt of Charles’ weapon on his. He took a few steps back, gained momentum, and then raised his foil to Charles’ again. They sparred for a few seconds, changing tactics and as they gracefully moved against each other. But when Edward found an opening, he held his foil at Charles’ throat. He couldn’t see his face clearly through the mesh headgear he was wear but he heard him chuckle. “I can never beat you at fencing.”
“It’s only practice,” Edward said drily. He pulled his own mask off and the two men bowed to each other. Sweat clung to his nape and hair as he shook himself off the confines of the headgear. The two men walked to the side where an assistant handed them two fresh white towels and took their foils away. “Imagine me holding a saber at you.”
“You can only wish,” Charles said, chuckling. “Neither of us will win.”
“You overestimate yourself, cousin,” Edward said wiping his sweat off his brow.
Charles grinned. “It’s good to see you as your old self for once. I don’t mind taking a sword to my neck for it.”
Edward fell silent. His cousin has been quite adamant in inquiring about what had been plaguing his mind. His wishful daydreaming of Ariadne had grown more and more intense over the course of the last week. He had done everything in his means to seek her out, to remember where she lived. But he didn’t have her address nor a general idea of where it could be. He remembered flashes of his carriage ride. He had already asked the driver and his footman and they had both refused to answer his inquiry as his father had forbidden them to speak about it. His father wanted the whole incident buried which meant that he wanted no word of it out. The Duke of Bromswell was greatly respected among his servants and his subjects, and it was quite certain that they would never go against his wishes.
“The gossips have been talking about you,” Charles said. “Did you bother to keep up?”
“What now?” Edward asked in a slightly irritated voice. There was never a good thing written in the gossip columns and he didn’t imagine things were different this time.
“People are talking. They think you’ve gone soft,” he said. “They remember your remarks at your engagement ball.”
“What, because I told them we aristocrats are no better than the poor?” he asked.
Charles nodded. “It has created quite a stir in the ton. Besides, you’ve not made an appearance at the last two sessions of Parliament either.”
“Well it’s the grousing season,” Edward lied. It was a white lie and technically he could get away with it. The Lords were not expected to attend all the sessions at Parliament as the Season was underway. “I’ve been busy and you know how erratic our schedules are this time of the year.”
“I know it’s a sufficient excuse but you’ve not gone hunting either,” Charles said. “What is the matter with you?”
“I have other pressing matters to consider,” Edward said, looking away. He kept the towel away and then headed toward the bath. He didn’t like himself covered with grime and sweat.
But Charles wasn’t done yet. “Pray tell me what it is? What’s more important than Parliament? I know you, Edward. Politics has been your whole life since childhood. You were the president of the debate association at Eton, you stood up for the council president in our final year and won. Administration and polity is your zeal. What happened to it?”
Edward stopped midway and turned to his cousin. “Desire and want have become two tangibly different things for me. I’ve wanted to be at the seat of decision making for as long as I can remember. But I desire something else now.”
Charles furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? And how are the two things different?”
Edward looked up at him and gave him a short look. A look of realization came over Charles’ face and his eyes widened. “It is about a woman, isn’t it?”
Edward didn’t deny it. His mouth pulled into a thin line. “Not just any woman. She is a vexing character, but she has enthralled me all the same.” Edward chuckled at the thought.
Ariadne was all he could think about when he went to bed and when his footman came to draw the curtains and wake him up. He knew that his other responsibilities had been suffering because of this distraction. There was only one to solve this problem. “I need to find her.”
Charles made a face. “I think you’re quite mad. You’re engaged to be married at the end of winter. That’s not even four months from now.”
“My mother would rather have me married in three weeks,” Edward said. “She suspects something about my state of mind and that’s why she concocted the idea of the engagement ball. It was not my choice or decision.”
“Are you telling me that you’re being forced into this marriage?” Charles asked, frowning.
Edward winced. “Not quite. My parents are unaware.”
“But the Duchess suspects that you fancy another?” Charles continued. He looked skeptical.
“It’s not quite a fancy,” Edward said. He wasn’t sure himself what he felt for Ariadne. He had only known her for three days but she had awakened the sense of passion in him that nobody had in his twenty-eight years of life. “It’s complicated.”
“Who is the lady in question?” Charles asked. “Don’t tell me it’s Violet. She has pretty eyes but she’s quite thick in the head.”
Edward shook his head. “She’s no lady.”
Charles frowned. “Where did you meet her then? At a social event?”
