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“Of course,” Edwina agreed, feeling a flush creep up her cheeks. Her heart started to race, thinking that as soon as brunch was over, Fergus could demand to start fulfilling his husbandly duties. If there was even a chance of that, she would drag brunch on for as long as she possibly could, even if the conversation felt awkward, or arrange to occupy herself as quickly as possible in the house. She wracked her brain, trying to think of ideas.
“Perhaps you could introduce me to the housekeeper after brunch?” Edwina suggested.
“Great idea,” Fergus agreed, quickly. He did not elaborate, so Edwina opened her mouth to ask another question but could not think of any. She thought he pretended not to notice. They fell into silence, the clinking of silverware against the porcelain the loudest sound in the room.
“Father, do you think you might set up your workshop at Haverton House?” Edwina asked, at last, breaking the silence.
“I had thought the solarium,” he replied excitedly. “With all that light, it would do nicely.”
“Was the late Baron much of a gardener?” the Duke asked.
“Oh, I have no idea,” father confessed. “I had never met him, and the plants in the solarium were long dead when we moved in.”
“And have you already thought of the tools you might need?” Edwina asked. “Your workshop before was so full.”
“It is such a shame I got rid of it all,” Father lamented. “I never thought I would get to go back to it.”
Edwina set down her fork, unable to pretend to take another bite nor think of any more conversation in front of the Duke. She realized that the Duke had long finished and just watched them in uncomfortable silence.
“I suppose this is where I must bid you farewell, then,” Father lamented, looking at her with watery eyes.
Edwina turned to the Duke, trying to hold back tears as well. “Might you permit me to have a few moments alone with my father?”
“You do not need my permission, Your Grace,” the Duke said. Edwina winced a little at the new title but rose, beckoning to her father. Ducking from the room, she took his arm, leading him down the corridor.
“I am so sorry for all of this,” he told her, his voice ragged and hoarse. He tried to wipe tears away from his eyes. “I never wished for any of this to happen.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she assured him, stopping him. She touched his wrinkled cheek, smiling kindly at him. “It is the Duke who should be sorry, and I will make sure that he is.”
“Oh, do be careful,” he begged. “You do not want to anger a man like that. Just, be good. And come see me as often as he will let you.”
“He has assured me that I will be able to act as a duchess, a lady in my own right. I mean to hold him to that. I will not always ask him for permission to do things, once I feel more at home here.”
“And you never have to do anything that you do not want to do. Do not let him force himself upon you if you are not willing. Do you understand me?”
She flushed red again, looking down. “I understand, Papa.”
He enveloped her into his arms. “When your mother died, I promised that I would protect you from any and all harm as much as I could. I cannot help now, and I feel like a failure.”
“This is my choice,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly shut. “I chose this, and I will make the most of it. As I always do.”
“I know you will,” he breathed. He pulled back, holding her out at arm’s length. “Do know that if you are ever in trouble, if he hurts you in any way, you can come home to me. No matter what. I may not be able to fight him, but I would figure out a way to keep you safe.”
“I know, Papa,” she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. “I know.”
“I am so, so sorry, my dear,” he said again, shaking his head.
“Papa,” she breathed, trying to reassure him, but the Duke stepped out of the breakfast parlor.
“Is everything all right?” he asked, ignoring their tearful expressions.
Edwina wiped her eyes again and smoothed the front of her skirt. “Yes, just bidding my father goodbye.”
“We hope to see you again soon, Haverton,” the Duke said, bowing stiffly.
Taking her father’s arm, she continued to escort him to the front of the home, finding their carriage had already been made ready for him. She felt a pang of regret, realizing the Duke had ordered the carriage for him, ensuring her father would leave after brunch. She hugged him one last time, afraid to let him go. She clung to his arm as he climbed up into the carriage, and she held his hand, even as the footman closed the carriage door.
“If you need anything, send for me at once,” he whispered.
