AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He turned, ready to flee the room, unable to think of a response.
“Do not leave again,” she told him coldly. “You cannot simply leave the room anytime the conversation turns uncomfortable in your direction.”
“What do you want me to tell you?” he cried, turning back to her. “I came back home, thinking I might do what you ask. I thought I would come back and enjoy your company, only to find you have intentionally made a farce of the house to get my attention. You have acted like a child!”
“You are the one acting like a child, running away from people without so much as a goodbye!”
He faced her, trying to calm his breathing and his racing heart. There was no way that he could speak to her with a level mind with how his body betrayed him. Wiping his hands over his face, he took a slow deep breath.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, removing the hands from his face and throwing them wide, desperately.
“Sit,” she said, pointing to a nearby chair. “Sit and talk to me like a human with feelings. You will not allow me to ask you questions, so offer me something, anything, that would allow me to get to know you.”
Fergus plopped himself in the chair, his pulse still racing through his veins. Edwina returned to the flowers on the table, neatly tucking them into the vase, intermixing the blooms with leaves and smaller, dainty flowers.
“What do you wish to know?” he asked.
She gave him a brief, exasperated, look. “Anything you feel is safe to tell me.”
He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, watching her arrange the flowers. Watching her hands work, her dainty pale fingers clutching the stems, seemed to calm him slowly. He knew she got increasingly annoyed the longer he sat silent, but the pressure seemed to delay any ideas he had. Finally, he offered, “You know, it is only by fate that I became the Duke of Hillow.”
“How so?” Edwina asked politely and gently, encouraging him on.
“I had an older brother, so I chose to go into a military career.”
“What happened?” she asked in a soft voice, her hands stilling as she waited for him to explain.
“My father and brother died of consumption while I was away at war. My mother wrote me, asking me to come home. I only received the letter after…”
He trailed off, unable to speak of the terrible day when he was injured. He simply shook his head, explaining. “I was not close to my brother; he was older. I did admire my father, but he got me a commission when I was young. I thought I would go to the Royal Military Academy, but then, everything changed.”
“Do you miss it?”
He looked up, surprised. “Miss what?”
“Being in the army.”
Shaking his head fiercely, he said quickly, gesturing at his face. “No, I mean…”
She looked down as though embarrassed by not realizing the implications. Clearing her throat, she told him, “I do miss my life before my father became the Baron of Haverton. We had a small cottage in a village outside of town. My mother is buried by the parish church there. He fixed machines for the mill and for farmers. He loved inventing things. I hope he can keep it up. I enjoyed caring for him, tending the garden.”
“You lived a quiet life, then?” Fergus asked, confused. “But you act like a well-bred lady.”
“Oh, my grandmother saw to my education, made sure I had a governess, at least for a short time, to learn everything I would need to be introduced into society. But, until my father inherited the barony, I had no idea what thetonwas really like.”
“It is so superficial,” he mused, his eyes crinkling in amusement. Something about finding a common ground with Edwina reassured him, made the conversation feel easier. “Everything seems so critical, so important. But when you watch from a distance…”
“You just see how fake everyone is,” Edwina continued, smiling at him. She returned to the vase, fixing one of the blooms before backing away, setting her hands on her hips. “There. What do you think?”
Fergus looked at the vase, trying to tell if the arrangement was good or not. He shrugged. “Looks all right to me.”
She laughed, turning the vase to face a different direction. “At least we are of similar minds regarding our peers.”
“I must be thankful that we struck an accord,” Fergus told her. “For now I am no longer subject to the marriage mart to find a suitable bride that might have me.”
“And I am no longer feeling like I am parading myself around, trying to find the highest buyer.”
Fergus winced. “Is it really so bad for young ladies?”
