‘Ah, Selina. How was your visit?’ He rose to greet her almost hurriedly, holding something in one large hand. ‘I hope your grandmother is well and your people are enjoying the festivities?’
Selina was about to answer when she realised what it was that Edward held so carefully: one of her handkerchiefs, its lace edge peeping from between his fingers.
She felt a slow blush begin to climb up her neck. He has opened my gift already, then. Her heart quickened a fraction. I wonder if he liked them?
Seeing the direction of her gaze, Edward gave a small smile and opened his hand, spreading the little white square on his palm.
‘I want to thank you for such a thoughtful gift.’ He ran a finger over the red shapes of his initials. ‘I’ve never known such craftsmanship—the lace alone is some of the finest I’ve ever seen.’
Selina glanced up at him. His face was sincere; he looked genuinely pleased. She couldn’t help the glow that blossomed in her chest as a result. That answers my question, I suppose. He seemed truly to appreciate the lengths she had gone to in making his gift, and a tingle of satisfaction warmed her insides.
‘I’m so glad you like them. Lacemaking has been passed down through my family for generations.’
Edward nodded, again running a fingertip across the delicate material. He seemed absorbed by the tiny details, his face intent, and Selina could have sighed aloud at the way the seriousness of his look enhanced the chiselled lines of his handsome features. They were more than handsome to her now. In all honesty beloved would have been closer to the truth, and the thought made Selina’s throat contract in an involuntary swallow.
‘I’m very grateful you took the time to make such things for me. Thank you.’ He smiled down at her, with the barest suggestion of warmth in the rich hazel of his eyes.
‘It was my pleasure. Besides, it was my fault you barely had a handkerchief left in the first place.’
Edward laughed—a short, low thing that seemed to take him a little by surprise. ‘I can’t argue with you there. I had no idea taking you on as my wife would cost me so dearly.’
Ophelia mumbled something. She was still fast asleep before the fire, but all the same it saved Selina from having to reply. This was the most friendly conversation they had enjoyed since her unhappy visit to Zillah, when her dreams had been destroyed by the old woman’s reminder of the truth—although not the way she had intended. To laugh with Edward was a wonderful thing, and she wished they could stay in this moment forever, with him smiling down at her and she feeling a glimmer of happiness that she would have given almost anything to be able to keep for the rest of her life.
‘And have you opened my gift to you? I wasn’t sure—I hope you like it?’ Edward looked away from her, suddenly quiet in his uncertainty, his hands moving to clasp behind his back. ‘You are a difficult woman to buy for.’
The little blue box that has caused me to be so secretive.
She’d momentarily forgotten it in the haze of delight created by Edward’s praise of her skills, but now she blinked and patted at herself, feeling for the pocket in which she’d felt it necessary to hide her prize from Zillah’s close scrutiny.
‘I haven’t yet had a chance. I’ll open it now, of course.’
She drew the box from her cloak, glad to have an excuse to look somewhere other than up into Edward’s face, so watchful and intent was his expression. A tiny gold clasp held it closed, and with her heart beating in her ears Selina flipped it up and lifted the lid.
For a moment her mind couldn’t process what her eyes were seeing. Lying before her, cushioned within a bed of white tissue, was the brooch she had last seen pinned to the bosom of the dress her mother had worn on her funeral pyre.
Selina’s hand shook as she lifted the brooch from its wrapping. She saw, once her brain had caught up with the rest of her senses, that of course it was not the same piece that had accompanied her mother on her final journey. This brooch was new—the gilt setting of the original was replaced with real gold, and what had been paste stones glittered in the firelight as only diamonds could—but the design was identical to the one she had touched countless times as a child. How had Edward—?
She gaped up at him, no words at all coming from her open mouth. How? How has he done this?
His eyes searched her face, his expression almost wary. ‘Is it not to your liking?’
Dumbly she shook her head, still unable to find her tongue as realisation suddenly swept over her, mingled with doubt. Could it truly be that he had remembered?
She turned the brooch over, feeling with nerveless fingers the achingly familiar contours of metal and stone. Mama’s brooch had featured a simple design of small oval paste crystals arranged around one central gem, fashioned to look like a flower with gilt leaves beneath. The sparkling copy Selina now held in her hand managed to replicate it exactly, and for some time her mind was silent in simple wonder at how Edward had managed such a feat.
He remembered every word I said.
The voice in her ear was filled with quiet amazement, and the same feeling ran over her like a shower of cool water, a complex tumult of emotion that would have taken any words from her mouth had she even been able to form them. She couldn’t remember ever having felt so touched by a gesture in her entire life, and the overwhelming intensity of her wonder almost moved her to tears.
He had listened, and then he had used her words to commission a gift for her that tied Selina to the memories she had of Diamanda: a gift beyond price. The fact that Edward had gone to such lengths for her took her breath away. Why had he given her such a gift?
Some corner of her consciousness ventured an answer, and she swallowed hard at the notion. Could it be, against all her rational beliefs to the contrary, that he had developed some measure of fondness for her despite his initial intentions?
Selina didn’t dare look at the idea directly. Worried that doing such a thing might cause it to flee, she instead considered it from a distance, watching it out of the corner of her eye.
He had given her such a thoughtful gift, one an indifferent man would never have dreamed of, and as for his behaviour towards her... Selina recalled how his first kiss had seemed so instinctive, so surprising to him even as he’d held her body close to his own, and how his arms had come around her so protectively when she’d cried.
A dozen tiny moments, each meaning nothing on its own, built up into a perfect montage of something deeper—something Selina could scarcely comprehend or dare to believe could be true.
‘This is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever been given. I don’t know how to thank you.’
Edward smiled, a shadow of something like relief passing over his face. ‘I’m so glad you like it. I remembered how you described the piece belonging to your mother and thought a replica might please you.’
Selina nodded, her fingers still stroking the polished metal. The urge to rise onto her tiptoes and kiss Edward full on his upward-curving lips was almost overwhelming. There were no words strong enough to express her thoughts—only the touch of her mouth on his could hope to explain the depth of her appreciation.
Blinking back the tears that sparkled in the light of the fire, she instead settled for a light brush of her lips on the warm plane of his cheek, and watched as a look of surprise—but not displeasure—flooded Edward’s face. Selina felt her pulse skip at her own daring, but the precious gift she held in her hand was worth any small embarrassment.
‘I’ll treasure it always. Thank you, Edward. Thank you a hundred times over.’
His eyes were warm with some unspoken thought as he smiled down into hers, black and hazel meeting in the orange light for one long, meaningful moment that stretched out between them, neither voicing what secret desires might be hidden within.
‘You are most welcome. Merry Christmas...wife.’
Chapter Twelve
Ed
ward felt the tremor in Selina’s fingers beneath his own as he handed her down from the carriage. In any other woman he might have suspected a chill, but Selina’s rigid face throughout the duration of their journey to Sir William’s estate had been an indication of determinedly suppressed anxiety, and he knew her hand’s unsteadiness was not a result of the freezing January evening.
Candles blazed in every window of their host’s grand house, bathing the guests who mounted the stone steps up to the front door in a soft orange light. The sound of musicians playing a lively tune floated through the night air towards them, carrying with it the buzz of a hundred conversations and the faint thud of footfalls as the guests within the manor moved in time with the music.
All around carriages rolled to a halt and streams of people stepped out into the cold, the men standing tall in their best knee breeches and stockings and the ladies glittering in the candlelight like birds of paradise, their gowns shining in jewel colours and feathers swaying in their headdresses.
No small number of them greeted Edward as they passed, some looking with barely disguised curiosity at the woman who stood next to him, silently gazing up at the Beaumont ancestral home with an unreadable expression in her dark eyes.
Edward looked down at her and marvelled yet again at the miraculous powers of an expensive wardrobe to entirely transform the wearer.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t been beautiful before—far from it. It was more that now, swathed in the rose silk that ghosted the lush shape of her figure, falling in an empire cut from below her bosom in such a way as to emphasise the captivating curves pressed at the square neckline above, Selina radiated an almost ethereal femininity that had been previously hidden beneath layers of woollen shawls.
The soft colour that peeped out from beneath her cloak was the perfect complement to the tawny cast of her skin, and the ebony of her hair—braided and twisted into the most elaborate style Dinah had ever had free rein to create—was offset by ribbons intertwined with gilt flowers that gleamed in the light spilling forth from the house.
Her only other ornamentation was the brooch pinned to the centre of her chest, at which Edward glanced in secret satisfaction. She hadn’t been lying, then, when she had said it was the most wonderful gift she had ever received. In turn he had carried one of Selina’s handkerchiefs with him ever since that day—partly out of necessity, but largely for the feeling of confused delight he felt each time he looked down at the gifts she had given him.
He still didn’t know what she had meant by it and had yet to muster up the courage to ask. There was still the possibility that he wouldn’t like the answer.
She was silent as he guided her up the steps and allowed a servant to relieve her of her cloak, busy taking in her surroundings with eyes round with wonder.
‘Are you well?’ Edward murmured into Selina’s ear, close enough to brush the delicate shell with his lips. The idea was tempting, and he swallowed hard.
What she needs tonight is a friend. Not you trying to find excuses to kiss her.
‘Yes.’ Selina’s smile was small but determined. ‘This is the grandest house I’ve ever set foot in. I don’t think I could feel more out of place if I had arrived in my usual clothes.’
‘You needn’t worry about blending in.’ Edward bowed to a passing acquaintance, noting how the man’s eyes slid from him to Selina’s face. ‘You look quite the high-born lady.’
Stepping within the ballroom, Edward looked about him. People he had known his entire life were scattered in all directions—some seated at small tables dotted around the walls, some dancing, and still others standing in clusters, talking and watching the dancers with critical interest. Chatter and laughter rang throughout the room and the musicians’ airs vibrated in his ears, their instruments clearly audible above the hum of conversation. Despite the wintry chill outside, the ballroom was extremely warm, and more than one lady was fanning herself with a little more enthusiasm than elegance.
‘It’s rather close in here. Would you like a glass of punch?’
Selina nodded, still looking this way and that in a combination of curiosity and distaste, and Edward moved away from her towards a table on which stood a bowl and several fine crystal glasses. On his return he saw a small group of ladies standing a short distance away, casting furtive glances at Selina’s luxurious gown. Obviously they were wondering who such a fashionable stranger could be, and they dissolved into rapid whispers when Edward appeared and handed her the drink, their eyes shining with curiosity.
One of them, a young woman he vaguely recognised as a former friend of Letitia’s, looked at him with particular interest, her gaze straying across him with a little more appreciation than was strictly polite. He was just about to turn away when he felt a jolt of surprised delight crackle through him at the sensation of Selina’s fingers settling lightly on his forearm. It was a subtle movement, accompanied by a pleasant smile on her full lips, but there could be no mistaking it.
Selina’s expression was serene, but Edward saw the determined angle of her chin, raised in the faintest suggestion of challenge, and his heart sang. She had staked her claim on him—out of injured pride, perhaps, but the notion was still absurdly pleasing. He had to fight back the urge to preen as the other woman’s face fell and she pointedly turned her back on him and his quietly elegant wife.
There was a brief lull while the orchestra arranged their next piece, and when the music began again Edward leaned down to speak into Selina’s ear.
‘Is that the opening for a waltz I hear?’
‘I believe it is. I sincerely hope I can remember the steps—I’m a little afraid for your toes.’
Edward took Selina’s hand and steered her firmly in the direction of the dancers. Their progress was slowed by Edward’s having to greet various acquaintances, bowing and smiling and introducing Selina to so many people he was sure he could see her anxiety increase. It was a relief to finally reach the dance floor and be able to hold her close to him once again.
She felt almost weightless in his arms, slight and instinctively graceful as she stepped to the music as though having had a hundred lessons, and Edward was powerless to resist as the memory of the first time he had held her so closely sent a flash of heat through his every nerve. She had been so stiff then, so patently uncomfortable with their proximity, but now, as they moved across the floor, it was as though they had been designed to be partners. Her small hand fitted perfectly into his grasp and her ear was close to his rapidly beating heart. Her awkwardness with him had entirely dissipated, Edward realised as she peeped up at him, a smile of genuine appreciation only enhancing the beauty of the face he now knew he held most dear.
‘Thank you for rescuing me. I don’t think I could have survived yet another introduction.’
* * *
Edward’s laugh rumbled through his chest and Selina felt its vibrations against her cheek as she drew nearer still to the silk of his waistcoat. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely proper to be so close to the broad chest that haunted her dreams, but the press of bodies around her and the braying of upper-class voices made her nervous, and nowhere felt so safe as being close to Edward.
Held in the unshakeable strength of his arms, Selina felt the knowledge that there was nowhere else she would rather be rise up in her again, and she made only the most half-hearted attempt to dispel it.
‘No? But there’s still—oh, I don’t know—another two, maybe three hundred of my closest friends for you to meet.’
Selina shot him a narrow look that was entirely ruined by the wayward curve of her lips. ‘I most certainly hope not. I couldn’t stand the scrutiny.’
They danced a few steps closer to another couple, the male half of whom fixed Selina with an unnervingly bold stare.
She twitched her brows together and drew a little further into Edward’s hold, murmuring up into his ear. ‘Why do they stare so? Ever since we ar
rived I’ve felt too many eyes upon me. Is something about my appearance really so troubling?’
Edward glanced across at the other man, who dropped his gaze at once. ‘They’ve been staring because you are, without doubt, the most beautiful woman in the room.’ He turned her deftly, calmly continuing their dance as they began to sail back in the direction from which they had just come.
Any activity in Selina’s mind stuttered and died and her eyes flickered up to meet Edward’s before she could stop them.
He looked down at her with the most serious expression in his hazel eyes she had ever seen. There was no laughter now—no twinkle of humour in the greenish gaze that had settled on her more and more frequently over the past weeks and months, in a scrutiny she had tried in vain not to enjoy. Instead he was solemn, earnest, as though he had meant every one of the unspeakably delicious words he had just murmured in her ear, and Selina felt her breathing become ragged as she stared up into his face, robbed of the ability to recall any language in order to respond.
A slow creep of pleasure began to steal over her as she turned his words over inside her mind. He had called her beautiful, and now, with his hands holding her close to him, a thrill of something dangerous crackled beneath her heated skin. His touch was like a flame and her nerves the touchpaper, and the combination of the two called to the secret longing Selina had tried so hard to conceal.
She couldn’t drag her eyes away from his. They were mere inches apart. If she were just to reach up onto her tiptoes she could rise high enough to claim him with her lips, and a powerful yearning to do just that swept over her as unrelentingly as a tidal wave.
Edward seemed to be bending down. His face was growing closer, the look in his eyes sharpening into an intensity that would have made it impossible for Selina to move away from him even if she hadn’t been a willing captive in his arms. She could do nothing but wait breathlessly, dazedly, as his arm tightened on her waist and brought her closer still to the firm column of his body, for his mouth to meet her own. For surely that was his intention?
The Marriage Rescue Page 18