Page 56 of Cursed

Chapter Twenty

Edeena had entered a strange and surreal place. Distantly, she watched Vince fish his phone from his pocket, unsurprised that he’d already worked out the logistics of her announcement no matter where she made it. A few moments later, a castle staffer hurried through the crowd and approached the gazebo, mounting the few steps and stopping in front of her with a lavalier microphone. He pinned it to the bodice of her dress with quick efficiency, rattling off instructions.

The crowd was swelling now, and she smiled automatically, looking out over it. She could see several of her supposed suitors in the throng—good men, capable men. Then she looked at Vince. He was standing not three feet away, solid, sure, and capable, the way he’d been solid, sure and capable since she’d first strode off that airplane in Charleston. He’d taken her and his sisters into his careful hands from the very first moment, and had stood by through every adventure, big and small, never once making her feel silly, stupid or small.

“Are you ready, Countess?” the staffer asked.

She nodded, but Vince strode forward, causing the staffer to shift to the side. “Is this on?” he asked gruffly.

“No sir, not yet.”

“Good. Give us a minute.”

In the newly-cleared space of the gazebo, Vince fairly dragged Edeena to the side, his hands warm on her, his manner tense. From the look on his face she could tell he was thinking furiously, selecting and rejecting things to say in rapid succession.

“What?” she demanded, steadying herself against him. “What’s wrong?”

Something in his face put her instantly on edge. It was a flash of—what? Pity? Anger? Outrage? But not for himself, she realized quickly. It was outrage for her.

Now it was her turn to race through the possibilities. He’d escorted her all the way here, supporting her at every turn, and now he was having cold feet? That wasn’t possible. He wouldn’t do that to her, not as her security detail, not as her friend.

Which meant he was still protecting her. But from what?

“Edeena,” Vince said, and his voice was gravelly. “I . . . I can’t let you go through with this.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

She didn’t think it would be for the reason she wanted. She didn’t think it was because he was about to prostrate himself in front of her, and declare his undying love.

Right?

Even the possibility sent her heart rate soaring, but Vince was too grim for a wide-eyed declaration of love. Too serious.

“What’s going on, Vince?” she managed. Her carefully prepared bubble of happiness was quickly losing its ebullience, wavering under the hard glare of the lights. “What’s happening?”

He blew out a long breath. “Look. I’m not going to lie to you Edeena. That’s not the way I’ve ever worked, not the way I want to be, even with you—especially with you. So I’m going to give this to you straight.” He tightened his lips. “You’re about to be set up.”

Of all the things he could have said, she hadn’t expected that. “What?”

“Set up, made a fool of,” Vince snapped, as if that was the part she was having difficulty understanding. He explained the rest of it quickly enough, however. “Your father apparently didn’t like the way you were handling things after you spoke at the matchmaking dance the other night, so he took matters into his own hands. The man you pick—whoever you pick—is going to reject you.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean, reject me? Tonight? In front of all these people?”

“Tonight,” Vince nodded. “The moment you choose, most likely. He’ll lose some face, or maybe he won’t. I’m not sure what the protocols are here. These men aren’t under any obligation, right?”

“No, but . . .” Edeena could only stare at him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “No one’s ever done that before. The family . . . I mean, the curse is going to stand, then. All this time, all this effort, and Silas would rather keep the curse going than let it fall, because I stood up to him? And then, by law, he can choose my husband. He will choose my husband, too—simply out of spite.” She drew breath to say something more, then faltered. “How can he hate me so much?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Edeena blinked, shocked at the endearment in a public place, but Vince continued as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to say. “He doesn’t hate you, he doesn’t. Not specifically. But he’s one of those people who has built up so much fear and anger in his world, so much of a sense of entitlement, of being wronged, that he sees defeat at every turn. I don’t know why he became the man he did. Maybe he has every reason to be bitter. Maybe he feels, even now, that life is doing him a disservice, and that you are the one standing in his way, that you’re the one who symbolizes everything that’s held him back his whole life.”

“But I . . . I would never . . .”

“Shhh,” Vince said, dipping his head forward so that their foreheads touched. It wasn’t an intimate move, not really. It was perfectly respectable gesture. Yet when Vince did it, it was as if he was wrapping her in a warm hug. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, Edeena. Your father isn’t lashing out at you, he’s lashing out at the world. He wants control more than he wants happiness. I suspect he’s been that way his whole life.”

“Yes, but . . .” Edeena pulled back from him, schooling her face into an expression of bright joy, all the more jarring for how false it was. “What am I going to say to all these people? They’re expecting me to announce a betrothal, and they all know why I must. This . . . this whole thing has become a joke, Vince. A joke. And my sisters are going to have to live with the embarrassment of this night for the rest of their lives. They’re going to feel like they need to make it up to me somehow, when the whole point of everything was for me to be able to cut them a break, for me to make their way easier.”

She glanced quickly to the crowd but couldn’t see her sisters in the mix. She knew they would be there though. They’d be standing in solidarity, the stalwart Caroline and impetuous Marguerite, their hands clasped, their eyes shining, and they’d be waiting for her to name some young man in the crowd.

And then that man . . . that man would stand forward and make a laughingstock of her.

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