Page 78 of The Duke and the Runaway Bride

“I don’t ever thank you enough,” Edwin admitted.

“No, you don’t,” Robert said with a smile. “Not only for this but for being your friend, too. I don’t know anyone else who would have kept up with you all these years.”

“You are no angel yourself,” the Duke scoffed.

“That is true, that is true,” Robert conceded with a chuckle. “I must leave. I hope you feel better, old chap. Please, talk to your wife and sort all of this out. Do you not have an event to attend?”

“In three days,” Edwin confirmed.

“Will she be there?”

“I was told she will. I don’t know what to expect when I see her, but I will be ready.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Robert replied. “Even with your anger and disappointment, Beatrice is the best thing that happened to you in a long time—perhaps ever. I have seen the small changes in you, and I can see how unhappy you are now. Some of that is because your wife has left your estate. I beg you to go and make this right before the event, but your stubbornness does not give me a lot of hope. If you can’t make it right before then, make it right at the event. Do you hear me? If you mess this up, I shall have to reconsider the sort of man you are.”

“Is this what I have become? You judge me based on the company I keep?” Edwin asked.

“A man is judged for many things,” Robert replied. “I am still your friend, and that means I have judged you well. Don’t let theRunaway Briderun away from you, dear friend, or my judgment may change.”

“I shall try,” Edwin replied.

“Don’t try.Do,” Robert ordered. He left the room before his friend could reply.

Edwin sat in his chair in the library, staring at a large bookshelf and sulking. He wondered what Beatrice was doing. He imagined she was having a jolly time with her sister, and they were talking about babies and husbands. He knew Charlotte was happy in her marriage, even though its start was rocky, and Beatrice was likely comparing their marriage to her sister’s.

He looked down at the smashed glass on the floor and wished he hadn’t done what he did. He could do with a drink. Still, it would only depress him more.

Edwin got up from the chair and left the room. He had told no one to enter, so the maid stood at the door, waiting for instructions.

“Clean that up,” he ordered. He was about to leave when he added, “I should not have done that.”

The maid bowed her head slightly before entering the room.

Not everyone should be miserable just because I am.

He walked the hallways of the manor, and it felt empty. He knew he should go and find Beatrice and beg her to come back, but he could not show weakness, and he was still angry. It did not matter that it would improve his life considerably.

One other thing stopped him. He worried that she would refuse. Or that he would arrive at the Duke of Hayward’s estate and wouldn’t find her there.

“Ah, there you are,” Modesty called softly.

In the span of a few days, his stepmother had turned from the most eccentric and excitable woman he knew to one who spoke in hushed tones and measured her words carefully.

Perhaps it is only around me.

“I am here, Mother,” Edwin said. “What do you need?”

“Well,” she began. “As you know, your sister is to debut this Season, and the preparations are going incredibly well.”

Edwin wanted to urge her to hasten her speech, but she was already walking on eggshells around him, and for good reason. He had snapped at just about everyone at least once in the past few days.

“She is looking forward to her debut so much, and we are wondering if Beatrice would return soon to help with the final preparations,” Modesty finished.

“Yes, she will be back soon,” the Duke replied curtly.

“Oh, good.” Modesty nodded. “Yes, I expected she would. Also, we have not heard a lot from her younger sister—the one who is also debuting this Season. Are they still debuting together?”

“Yes,” the Duke said quickly. “Why wouldn’t they? That is what was agreed upon, was it not?”

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