Page 38 of Adoringly, Edward
“He won’t come in,” Barnaby said as if reading her thoughts.
“Why?” she despaired. “Does he dislike the idea of being anywhere near me so much?”
His lips thinned, and he shook his head, glancing around them before speaking quietly. “He cannot get out of the carriage. His body is too exhausted.”
“Oh, poor Edward. I did not realize the extent of his ailment.”
“He hides it well.”
They said nothing more as they descended the staircase, bundled up in their cloaks, and exited the estate. Her heart pounded an anxious drum in her chest when she spotted Barnaby’s waiting carriage. She didn’t know what to expect from their meeting. All she knew was it was time they were honest with one another.
For the first time in weeks, Edward was too exhausted to move a single muscle in his body. He rested his head against the cool wall of the carriage and closed his eyes, knowing with a certainty that the doctor was wrong.
He wouldn’t die in another few months.
He would be lucky if he made it another few weeks.
A choked exhale escaped his heavy lungs, the simple action of drawing a breath proving too difficult to muster. His limbs felt like lead. His head seemed too heavy to lift. Joining Barnaby on an outing had been a mistake. He’d prefer lying down for a spell to sitting upright in this miserable carriage.
The door of the carriage opened. Light spilled inside. And his momentarily relief transitioned into numbing shock when Vivienne peeked inside, a large smile spread across her face.
“Good morning!” she said cheerily, almost as if he hadn’t broken her heart days earlier.
He shot upright, his eyes snapping wide open as his body suddenly found an elusive reserve of energy. “Vivi,” he gasped.
Behind her, Barnaby helped her into the carriage and closed the door until only his face showed. He pointed to each of them in tandem. “You two are keeping monumental secrets from one another. You will not leave this carriage until both secrets are revealed.” A pause. “Good luck.”
And then he closed the door behind him.
Across from him, Vivienne let out a frosty breath as she took off her gloves and set them in her lap. “Well then,” she continued cheerfully. “Why don’t we start with your secret?”
Edward bit his lip, trapping his hands between his knees. The last thing he wanted was to witness her pitying gaze. He’d wanted to die with at least a small shred of dignity, to be remembered in her mind as strong and healthy.
“I’m sick,” he finally said as he lifted his gaze. By the lack of surprise in her expression, he guessed Barnaby had alreadyspilled his secret. “I’mdying. I should have told you ages ago. It’s why…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly when his heart began to act up, beating too quickly and making breathing difficult. “It’s why I pushed you away. I cannot bear to hurt you. And growing too close to you will inevitably hurt you in the end. It’s in your best interest to maintain your distance.”
Her bottom lip turned downward in a strangely alluring frown. “Oh, Edward. It hurts me to know you have suffered so much. I wish you had not felt the need to distance yourself from me. I would have taken every minute you would have given me.”
“That’s not fair to you.”
“It’s not fair to me that you have been pushing me away. You know just how much I care about you, how much I value your presence and your conversation and your friendship. I am now beating myself up knowing I unknowingly put you at risk by forcing you to leave your tower.”
“You never forced me.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “All right,heavily persuaded.”
Still, dragging her down into the murky depths of his condition didn’t sit well with him. “I still should have—”
“Eight weeks,” she murmured, interrupting him long enough to pull his hands out from between his knees and press them to her heart.
He suddenly found himself at a loss for words when she stroked the back of his hands and kissed his palm. “What is eight weeks?”
A shuddering breath escaped her lips as she lifted her gaze. Fear flashed through her eyes. Her face paled. “It’s been eight weeks since we were reunited. Eight weeks since we loved without abandon.” A pause, followed by another shaky breath. “Eight weeks that I have been carrying your child.”
Edward reeled back, every pore in his body icing over as his brain tried to make sense of her words. His arms fell limp when the shock made controlling his limbs difficult, but she never ceased holding onto his hands.
He stared back at her, searching in vain for a trace of laughter or a twitch of her mouth to indicate she might be teasing him. But he found nothing except seriousness and excessive worry.
“Tell me it’s not true,” he stammered. “Tell me you are jesting.”
