The Curious Swan

by Kenzie Hart

  She moves to the staircase, and with each step she takes, she inhales and exhales deeply. By the time she is at the bottom, a smile is on her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s moving through the sitting room to the large French doors leading out to the lawn when she spots Edward walking into the house from the entry. A large bouquet is held in his hand, and he looks wonderful. Klara’s stomach does a little flip when Edward’s eyes land on her, and a wide grin spreads across his face.

  “Happy birthday,” Eddie says as he strides toward Klara. She looks breathtaking, and he tells her so. With her skin tan, it’s as if she were a glowing orb.

  “Thank you.” Klara smiles but watches as Edward’s brows furrow.

  Eddie notices Klara’s red eyes, and he drops the bouquet onto a side table, pulling her into a hug.

  He pushes a stray hair away and whispers in her ear, “Is everything all right?” Eddie feels Klara hold him tighter, pushing herself as close as she can to him.

  Klara breathes Edward in and feels light-headed. It’s as though the shell she puts around her heart slowly melts away in Edward’s arms, and as quickly as the tears left Klara, they return. She’s crying against him, trying to push her feelings back.

  “Shh,” Eddie soothes. “What’s the matter?” he asks, pulling back to look into her eyes. He wipes away a heavy teardrop with his thumb, holding her face in his palm.

  “It’s just a lot sometimes,” she replies, sucking in short breaths, trying to get the words out.

  “What is?” Eddie asks, trying to calm her down. He can see her face turning pink, and he doesn’t want to upset her more, but it’s something she seems to need to talk through.

  “It’s Father,” she says, trying to steady herself. “He is in so much pain still, and it hurts me, too.”

  Eddie feels slightly shocked at her admission but can’t believe that Klara seems to always defend her father. He’s obviously done something to upset her. But here she stands, likely justifying it by saying he’s in pain. Eddie shakes his head.

  “What can I do to make it better?” he asks, not wanting to see her hurting.

  “You’re doing it now.” She melts into Edward, feeling more relaxed. Her head starts to pound less, and her breathing slows down. As she pulls away, her cheeks are still stained with tears, but she has calmed herself.

  Cordelia walks into the room from the lawn, looking with surprise between Klara and Edward.

  “Grandmother,” Klara says, pulling back from Edward and placing a wide grin on her face. It is a genuine one, because she couldn’t be more relieved to see her grandmother.

  With Grandmother and Edward both standing near, her anger slips away and is replaced with warmth.

  But Cordelia isn’t as quickly put at ease.

  “What is it?” she asks, moving closer to Klara. Her chest tightens at the sight of Klara’s face.

  “Everything is as it should be, Grandmother,” Klara replies, trying to get a look out through the French doors at the party.

  Grandmother insisted that, while Klara might be involved in the planning, the actual reveal should be a surprise.

  Cordelia narrows her eyes at Klara and looks to Edward. His face is etched with worry and confusion. “Dear, why don’t you go out and greet your guests? I would like Edward to help me move something.”

  “Move what, Grandmother? Haven’t you hired a staff to help with the setup?” Klara says, still with a smile, lightly tilting her head.

  “If you must know, I need to have a word with him,” Cordelia replies before lowering her tone. “In private.”

  Klara lets out a giggle. “Look at the both of you, trying to surprise me. In that case,” she says to Edward, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll see you outside.”

  Eddie smiles at her, but it is halfhearted, and he watches as she moves out through the doors. As they open and then shut, he can hear laughter and chatter from outside.

  Cordelia’s demeanor changes the moment the doors shut, and she folds her arms, one over the other. “What is going on?” Cordelia says.

  Eddie sighs out. He is in a situation in which he will never win. Does he tell Cordelia what Klara said and possibly break her trust or do nothing and let Charles walk all over Klara? He runs his fingers through his hair, likely messing it about, but he doesn’t care. “I honestly am not sure what happened. Klara came downstairs, and as soon as I got to her, she was crying.”

  “Did she say anything at all?” Cordelia continues.

  Eddie slightly drops his eyes but raises them back to meet straight with Cordelia’s. “She said that her father was still in pain.” He takes in a sharp breath. “And that she is, too.”

  Cordelia’s nails dig into her crossed arms, “That bastard. He should never have come for her birthday.”

  “Why?” Eddie asks, desperately trying to understand. “I need you to level with me, Cordelia.”

  Cordelia’s eye twitches slightly, but she responds, “What has Klara told you about her mother?”

  Eddie crosses his arms this time, taking a stance of his own. “Just that she died, and her father still has a hard time with it. But that is what I don’t understand. Why hasn’t Charles gotten over it?”

  Cordelia closes her eyes for a moment, remembering. “Evelyn didn’t just die, Edward.” She leans in slightly and whispers, “She killed herself.”

  Eddie sucks in a breath.

  “And the ten-year anniversary of her death is tomorrow.” Cordelia pushes her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. She isn’t sure what she is feeling. Part of her wants to let tears fall while the other part wants to growl.

  Eddie feels as though the weight of the situation has finally been set down upon him. “And so Charles is grieving.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. My grandson is a good person, but he did not take to Evelyn’s death well. We had known she was ill. He’d tried everything. But, in the end, nothing helped her.”

  “Bloody hell,” Eddie says.

  “I told Charles not to come here,” Cordelia replies. This isn’t something she planned on talking about with Edward, but it is comforting to have someone outside of the family to discuss the matter with. “To grieve in private at his home in London. But could he do that? No. He had to come back to the place where it’d happened, allowing himself to self-destruct further and further.”

  “Cordelia,” Eddie asks hesitantly, his hands slightly clammy, “how did Evelyn pass?” He feels like a complete ass for asking, but feels it’s best if he knows everything.

  Cordelia uncrosses her arms, putting them down at her sides, lightly grabbing at her dress. “She tossed herself out their bedroom window.”

  Eddie’s eyes go wide. “That must have been quite traumatic for you all,” he comments, rubbing his fingers against his palms.

  Cordelia’s mind flashes back to the day it happened, and her stomach twists. “It was. Though I still can’t believe Klara never had night terrors over it all. And that’s what is so upsetting about this whole ordeal with Charles. If anyone should be traumatized and pitied, it should be Klara, but of course, that isn’t how Charles sees it.” Cordelia is seething. The anger within her seems to be returning. “Klara was there when it happened. I found her glued to the open doorway of their room, the window wide open. Her scream echoing through the house is what got my attention. But, by the time I got upstairs, it was too late.”

  Eddie’s head starts pounding, and he moves to take a seat on the couch. She watched her mother jump to her death? This piece of news is the hardest to grasp, and Eddie swallows hard.

  “I thought Klara might tell you in her own time,” Cordelia comments, walking over to where Edward is seated on the sofa, his face as pale as a ghost. “She’s never spoken of it to anyone. But I think you should understand the situation now.”

  “Yes,” Eddie says shakily.

  He can’t believe, after everything he and Klara have shared together, she has kept this from him. His st
omach stings a little. He has opened up to her completely. But it appears that she hasn’t done the same.

  “Now, why don’t you find Klara and help her enjoy her night?” Cordelia says, pushing back her shoulders. “I am going to find Charles and sort this out now.”

  Eddie stands and looks into Cordelia’s eyes, trying to refocus himself. Cordelia lightly squeezes his forearm before heading for the staircase. He needs to do what Cordelia asked. Find Klara and try to have a nice night for her. Put on a smile and relax.

  After all, everything Cordelia told him, though shocking, happened in the past. But the pain Klara still carries with her isn’t in the past, and Eddie isn’t sure how to continue on with the night as if nothing has changed.

  Rage fills Cordelia as she swings open the door to the room that used to belong to Charles and Evelyn. Any sympathy she had for Charles left Cordelia when she found Klara with tears streaming down her face, and her nostrils are flared as she glides into the room.

  “How dare you,” she says out of clenched teeth.

  “Mother,” Charles replies, not bothering to get up off the bed or look in Cordelia’s direction. His head lies flat against the bed, his arms outstretched, the bottle still uncorked in his palm.

  “Sit up, Charles,” Cordelia growls out.

  She stands only slightly over five feet, but looking at her now, it’s as though her tiny body has grown in size. Her stare alone could pierce you dead, and it’s for that reason that Charles avoids her eyes. He sits up slightly, having to slow his pace as his head spins.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” she asks, her eyes lighting ablaze.

  “I’ve got nothing to say, so you might as well leave me,” Charles replies, trying to keep his focus on Cordelia’s dress, but she seems to be swaying and splitting into two, moving apart and then coming back together again.

  “Look at you. This is unacceptable.” Cordelia turns away, feeling a little nauseous herself at the sight of Charles. “Evelyn wouldn’t have wanted this. You are destroying that girl, Charles.”

  “Please, Mother,” he says. “She’s the brightest and happiest girl I’ve ever met. I think she manages just fine.”

  “You don’t actually believe that, Charles, do you?” Cordelia questions. “She is just a little girl despite what she might have you believe. A little girl who needs her father,” Cordelia adds, crossing her arms, pacing the length of the room. “Do you realize your daughter is downstairs, trying to celebrate her seventeenth birthday, while you lie drunk here, in this godforsaken room? If you were going to spend the night buried in a bottle, why bother coming back?” Her brows furrow, and her face feels like it’s on fire.

  Charles tries to answer her question; he really does.

  There were a million reasons he came back to the Kentwood Estate. He did want to see Klara on her birthday. He kept hoping that, eventually, seeing her wouldn’t bring up all the pain of losing Evelyn, but that hasn’t been the case, and as she gets older, it seems to get worse. With each passing year, she becomes more and more like her mother, and it twists Charles’s insides.

  With the anniversary of Evelyn’s death being tomorrow, it seemed just self-destructive enough to come back to this place. To this room. Maybe it was a tortured decision, or maybe he thought that, if he came back, he could face the demons that had been haunting him. Regardless, this year wouldn’t be the time for any of that, and so this is how he found his way into a liquor bottle and in his previous room.

  Charles finally decides to give Cordelia the truth. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  “Your intention?” Cordelia spits out, wanting to scream. “Good intention or not, you’ve already pushed Klara to tears once today, and so help me, you will not do so again. You need to be here for your daughter. I gave you time to grieve. You had your space, but you’ve abandoned her.”

  “And what shall I do, Mother?” Charles pushes. “Take her back with me to London? Leave my life there and move home? What do you want from me?” He feels disgusted with himself and quite helpless.

  Cordelia grabs on to the jacket of his tuxedo, pulling him upright to face her. “I want you to clean yourself up and come down to dinner tonight for your daughter, or you can get the hell out of my house,” she says, dropping her hands and stepping back. She turns on her heels, heading for the door, but turns back short of it. “And, Charles, if you do leave, don’t bother coming back,” she says with shaking hands.

  “There you are!” Klara says, bouncing up beside Edward. “How was your chat with Grandmother?” Klara giggles with excitement. Her grandmother always only gets her one gift, and she dearly loves it each year. Klara loves the fact that her grandmother picks that specific thing out just for her.

  “You’re in a good mood.” Eddie smiles, pulling Klara against him. He dips his head, placing a kiss on her lips.

  He wants to have a conversation with her about everything Cordelia told him, but now isn’t the time or the place. And, with Klara being so happy and able to turn her mood around, he should as well.

  “Of course I am,” she says against his lips. “I’m excited for tonight. I just love parties. All the people and conversations. Can you believe what Grandmother did with the lawn?”

  Eddie takes a moment, pulling back from Klara to really get a look around. Large canopies are set up with streams of fabric hanging down. Sparkling lights are mixed into the fabric as though the whole thing were glowing. A dancing performer moves past Eddie, her face painted and her body clad in a silver costume. Small stalls are set up with food and drinks, and he even spots a fortune-teller in the corner. She’s surrounded by candles and pillows, and Eddie swears, her eye catches his from across the lawn. He quickly darts his eyes away.

  “It’s quite magical,” Eddie says, knowing it’s exactly what Klara hoped for. And he has to admit, it actually is. It’s a warm summer night, and the decor and furniture make everything seem even warmer. If only that warmth could be bottled and given to the people residing in the Kentwood Estate.

  “It is,” Klara says. “Come. Why don’t we grab a drink and then find a cozy seat somewhere? I would love nothing more than to just sit and watch everyone converse.”

  Eddie nods, lacing his fingers through Klara’s. As they weave through the crowd of what Eddie guesses is close to a hundred people, he grabs two champagne glasses off a tray passing by and pulls Klara down onto a sofa at the edge of the canopy where pieces of fabric hang down around them. With candles on every table, it is quite the romantic setting, and Eddie looks to Klara. Her blue eyes are sparkling, and her lips are bare though rosy as ever. They match the slight pink of her cheeks as her eyes catch his.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Eddie says, handing Klara the glass of champagne, letting his fingers graze against hers for a few seconds longer than necessary.

  Klara smiles at him, her heart feeling full. She just nods. Of all the different ways she has seen Edward, this has to be one of her favorites. Her favorite is when he is casual, and they are out in the woods or in the meadow together. She loves seeing him feel so comfortable in nature, but she has to admit, he looks utterly stunning tonight. His freckles stand out against his skin, and his warm brown eyes make her insides melt. His strawberry-blond hair is parted nicely, the color contrasting against his dark tuxedo.

  “Have you gotten your fortune told to you tonight?” Eddie asks, gently placing his hand on Klara’s knee and looking out at the varying faces. Some he recognizes from the 1920s dinner party while others are new.

  “I haven’t yet,” Klara says, looking over at Madame Bougard. “She has long been a close acquaintance of Grandmother’s, and Grandmother sees her and values her judgment more than she might like to admit.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Maybe, later this evening, we can have our palms read then, yeah?”

  “That sounds perfect. It will work out quite well because we have an abundance of time before dinner to en
joy all of this. And then, after, we will come back outside for cake, champagne, and sparklers.” Klara sighs happily.

  “Every time I think of a party at your house, I think it will always be of the 1920s party,” Eddie says, taking a sip of his champagne, relaxing back into the couch.

  “And why’s that?” Klara asks, her head tilting slightly.

  “Because of the way you kissed me in your father’s study. I think, up until our recent night spent together, that had to have been the best night of my life,” Eddie says, a flush rising to his cheeks. He didn’t mean for it to sound so cheesy, but it came out that way. In all reality, the kiss was extremely hot, but with the way Klara is blushing now with how he worded it, he would rather not correct himself.

  Klara takes Edward’s hand in hers and brings it to her lips. She presses a soft kiss on it, looking up over his knuckles at him. She loves watching his mouth fall slightly open when she does things such as this. He licks his lips and places his hand on her cheek, pulling her to his lips. He tries to keep the kiss innocent, but Klara opens her mouth slightly, and he has to keep himself from tossing his champagne glass onto the ground and pulling her closer to him. Klara relaxes against Edward, lightly running her hand through the back of his hair. Their kiss is completely improper, but she doesn’t care. Of everyone, her grandmother can appreciate a little scandal, and it feels all too wonderful to stop.

  “I love you, Edward,” Klara says, moving her lips to place a light kiss on his nose.

  “Well, I find this wildly inappropriate,” Cordelia says, walking up to Klara and Edward, looking quite comfortable on the couch. Too comfortable, if you asked her, but that is a discussion for a different time and place.

  “Grandmother,” Klara says, pulling away from Edward, her face flushed. She looks up at Cordelia, who has her arms crossed over her chest, but her eyes aren’t pointed at her, and just from that, Klara can tell that she isn’t truly upset.

  “Edward, collect yourself. Your eyes look as though you just came out of a hookah bar,” Cordelia says, placing her fingers against her temples.