Page 13 of Adoringly, Edward
A whoosh of warm air washed over her, followed by the feeling of…safety. Of relief. She didn’t know what else to call the sensation other than returning home. Almost as if she’d been here before.
Almost as if…
She inhaled sharply, recalling a time long ago of running through these halls. Climbing trees. Riding horses. Laughing beneath the stars. And most of all, she remembered a pair of dark blue eyes crinkled with happiness and warmth.
In the years that had passed, she’d almost forgotten. But now…
“We’ve been here before,” she gasped quietly to her mother as they walked down a lavish hallway decorated with pine garlands.
Mother smiled softly, but a deep sadness lived within her eyes. “Lady Beaumont was my dearest friend. She and her husband went on a voyage to find a cure for…well, I can’t remember what. But they never returned home, declared dead long ago. Edward Beaumont had still been only a boy at theirpassing. His sister took over the estate for a time until he came of age.”
The memories flashed through her mind faster now. Long hours with the horses. An afternoon fishing beside the lake. Most of the memories she had with Edward were filled with joy and laughter in the outdoors. If she recalled correctly, he was four or five years older than her.
But then her stomach dipped when she remembered him spending days, weeks in bed with a terrible illness. She didn’t know what the illness had been, only that he had recovered later.
She had not seen her childhood friend in a long time. Could he possibly be the masked man she’d met at the masquerade?
She quickened her steps, needing to know the truth.
She burst inside the ballroom, hardly sparing a thought or word for anyone else when her gaze darted frantically about.
Edward, Edward, Edward.
Her heart beat his name through her veins in her desperate attempt to locate him. Mother followed close at her heels, apologizing to others about her behavior, claiming she was simply excited about the event.
But then her heart seemed to cease beating altogether as her gaze landed on a man with black hair longer in the front than in the back.
Vivienne’s mouth dried, and her heart beat unbearably fast, her hands perspiring with nervous anxiety. With a single glance, she knew it was him. The man from the masquerade. The slight curve of his lips was unmistakable. The dark blue of his eyes had been imprinted on her heart. And she recalled the sweep of his black hair tangled in her fingers, his sweet mouth showering her in kisses.
“I found him,” she said breathlessly as if her lungs couldn’t draw air in his presence. He stood in a circle of three other men and two women. She recognized Lord Barnaby Mavis andSir Tobie Lambton. She’d seen Sir Charles Lockwood around the palace.
As for the identity of her masked man, she only dared to hope…
Her mother followed her gaze before her eyes sparkled with excitement. “The black-haired one? Yes! That’s Edward Beaumont. The viscount. The man I was talking about. You’re positive it’s him?”
Vivienne placed a hand to her fluttering belly as her gaze roamed over him. She recognized his broad shoulders and tall stature. The way he flipped his hair out of his eyes. The way his mouth curved when someone must have voiced a jest. “I’m almost certain.” But…there was something different about him. A tentative expression lingered on his face, and his stance didn’t exude confidence like the man she’d met at the masquerade.
“Then let us go to him. You’ve charmed him once.” Her mother scoffed as she opened her fan and leisurely made her way toward the viscount. “Surely, you can do it again.”
Yet, she had an audience of six, plus her mother. Charming him with people looking on would not be easy.
Fear crept up within her as they moved nearer to the group. He’d hadweeksto find her! And heaven knew she’d been searching far too long to find him. What if he’d forgotten about her? What if he didn’t care anymore?
Her heart pounding against her ribcage, she withdrew her fan from her reticule and popped it open. And just as they stood before the group, she “accidentally” dropped her fan at his feet.
“Oh,” he murmured, stooping down to pick it up. He was still crouched when he lifted his head, and their gazes locked.
Edward’s mouth fell open, and he simply stared back at her, at a loss for words. Now that he was closer, she knew without a doubt he was the man from the masquerade. The same darkblue eyes. The same tone of voice. And he gazed at her as if dumbstruck, his open mouth familiar in the most pleasant ways.
She took a small measure of satisfaction that he seemed to recognize her, too.
“Lord Beaumont, what a pleasure to be invited to this splendid event,” her mother said, breaking them out of their daze long enough for him to stand and pull his gaze from her and fix his attention on her mother. He immediately bowed at the waist, recognizing her superior rank. “I don’t suppose you remember my daughter, Lady Vivienne Winfield. The two of you used to spend hours and hours playing together as children.”
Edward silently mouthed an obvious profanity as he glanced back toward her, his face pale with something akin to terror. He likely feared her father and what the warlord might do to him should he find out about their passionate rendezvous.
Vivienne curtsied and gave him a demure smile. “I am honored to be reacquainted with you, Your Lordship.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her meaning coming across a different way between the two of them.
Behind him, Lord Mavis elbowed Edward in the back. He coughed and held out a hand to her. “The pleasure is mine,” he squeaked, and she found it difficult to stifle a laugh. She only barely managed to restrain herself.
