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He instantly thought of Leah. He had to admit that she also managed to capture his attention, but with more than just her looks. She was beautiful, that much was undeniable, but there was this fire inside of her that he wanted to see more of. It lured him, it pulled him closer to her, and he knew that he wanted to find out more about the woman who was now his wife.
CHAPTER8
Leah had been married exactly a week. Seven days of married life, during which she did not spend much time with her husband. Not that she wanted to. At least, that was what she tried to convince herself. By the time she had gotten up for breakfast, he was already done and either in his study, or already out of the mansion. He would be home in the afternoons, but always stuck in his study with his work, so she was left alone or with Mrs. Livingston, who turned out to be a great companion.
That afternoon, Leah found herself in the drawing room, occupying her attention with embroidery. Mrs. Livingstone kept her company for an hour, as the two of them discussed drapery ideas for the main hallway and decided that they would go shopping the following day. Edward had given them complete financial freedom when it came to the renovations, but Leah still felt that she ought to be careful and not overspend.
She heard a knock on the door, and lifted her gaze in that direction, thinking that Mrs. Livingstone must have forgotten to tell her something. To Leah's surprise, it was Edward.
"Good day," he said, with a smile. "Mrs. Livingstone said I would find you here."
"Oh, hello," Leah replied, putting the embroidery hoop in her lap.
"How are the renovations coming along?" he asked, walking around the room and taking a seat opposite her. She looked at him slightly warily. There must have been a reason as to why he was here, making small talk.
"Very nicely," she replied. "Mrs. Livingstone has been a great help."
"I am very happy to hear that," he replied. He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "I know I have been away this week a lot. And... it probably made you think that I didn't want to be here, that I was avoiding you."
"Yes." She surprised even herself with her response. It was out of her mind before she could even reconsider saying it. "I mean, I've noticed it," she tried to soften the blow. "But I do know you are busy. I have also been busy with the renovations."
"Yes," he nodded, raking his fingers through his hair. "Well, I wanted to tell you that I hope to... have more free time next week, which of course does not mean that we need to spend time together or anything, but... I just wanted you to know that I have not been using work as an excuse to run away from home, just because you are here."
"I understand," she said again. It was true she believed that he was avoiding her. Then again, she was avoiding him as well. She was fine being two passing ships in the night, and only having dinners together. She did not imagine her married life being thus, but she could not demand more, taking everything into account.
"Well, then," he said, getting up, looking awkward, almost as if he regretted coming in to tell her all this. She knew that it must have taken him a lot of effort to say this. He was trying to make her feel better, to make her feel welcome in her new home. She should show him the same amount of courtesy. "I shall leave you to your, uhm, embroidery."
He started heading for the door, when she called out to him. "Your Grace?" He stopped and turned around to face her again. "Perhaps we could refer to each other by our first names?" he suggested.
"Edward," she said his name.
"Leah," he replied with her own.
"I have called for some tea," she informed him. "Perhaps you would like to join me?"
He thought about it for a moment, then walked away from the door and back to where he had been sitting. "Why not?" he smiled, sitting down.
In turn, she put away her embroidery hoop, completely losing the little interest she had in it up until that point. "Has work been going well?" she asked, realizing that the question might sound a little silly, but she wanted to talk to him. He showed effort at keeping her company at her request, the least she could do was show interest in his affairs. It was just a small kindness, which they could both extend toward each other.
"Very well," he nodded, leaning back into the armchair as he spoke. "It was honestly much easier when I had my father to help me. Now, I feel like some decisions I've made haven't been the best ones, but I didn't have anyone to ask for advice."
"I know how that feels like," she admitted. "My mother was also a guiding strength in my life."
"That is what good parents ought to do," he agreed.
"And good children ought to find out what happened to their parents, if they died a suspicious death," Leah said, once again silently scolding herself for having a faster tongue than her mind. She should have kept quiet about this, but something was urging her to open up to him. She wanted to confide in him. She wanted them to be close.
The thought both frightened and thrilled her at the same time. This man was still a stranger. She knew very little about him, although he had always been her neighbor. His family always kept to themselves, and their business, apart from what everyone knew, was mostly kept private. Now that she was married to him, he was still that same strange man in whose chamber she woke up one night, but at the same time, he was so much more than that. There were so many things about him she wanted to learn, to know, and the only way to make him open up to her was to do the same, to open up to him first.
"I thought your mother's death was an accident," he said, sounding confused.
"Everyone thinks that," she confirmed, with a heavy sigh. "Even Father. But I know that's not true. I have been talking to people who might know something about what happened that day, trying to piece together the final puzzle of the last day of her life."
"Was it a carriage accident?" he wondered.
"Yes," she acknowledged. "I have seen the carriage for myself. Father has explained to me that the wheel could have fallen off due to decay, but someone could have tampered with it as well. There is no way to prove or disprove this, unless someone had actually seen it, with their own eyes."
"Do you have any reason to believe that someone might want to hurt your mother?" he asked, leaning forward as he spoke. She could tell that she had managed to capture his entire attention.
