Page 43 of Adoringly, Edward
“Lady Vivienne Winfield.” The man continued to watch him as if gauging his reaction while he added several more herbs to a mortar. “She said you proposed. And she accepted.”
Did she?
A slow smile crept up on his lips as his thoughts turned to the lovely woman in question. No one made him laugh quite like she did. He could spend hours with her and never tire of her company. And if what the doctor said was true? Then he was the luckiest man in the entire kingdom.
And then his train of thought turned to their fight in the carriage, to her life-altering secret. He wished she would have told him sooner. Then he would have been able to sort out this mess without the uncertainty of his death.
Despite how terrified he felt over the idea of becoming a father, elation also filled him at the new hope of building a life with Vivienne, at building a family. If the doctor was correct, that he’d been poisoned, perhaps he could recover. Maybe he wouldn’t die, after all.
“I must see her.”
“I’m sure she will show her face soon,” the man chuckled, seemingly appeased at his reaction to the unexpected news of their betrothal. “The entire castle is in an uproar. About how you were so excited to propose that you collapsed a lung.”
The quick gossip must have been Barnaby’s doing. Edward would recognize his friend’s meddling handiwork anywhere.
“Ugh,” he grunted. “I’m terribly embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. All the ladies at court are swooning over the romantic notion of it.” And then he grimaced as he mashed the ingredients together in a bowl. “Duke Hastings is rather put out. Furious, even. He had planned to propose to the Lady Vivienne, but you beat him to it.”
Edward released a long sigh, too exhausted to worry about the aftermath of his actions. “Not a great enemy to have.”
“Neither are you, Your Lordship. And he knows it.”
Edward found it refreshing that the doctor was rather open with his thoughts and opinions. Especially considering he catered to much of the upper class living within the palace.
Quick footsteps rushed in the direction of the room, and moments later, the door flew open without receiving a knock first. There, on the other side, Vivienne stood panting for air, her brunette hair wild with half of it in an updo and the other half falling out of the pins and around her shoulders.
Doctor Clark chuckled. “Ah, there she is now.”
“Edward!” Vivienne gasped, flying to his bedside and grasping his hand. “You’re awake. Oh, how worried I’ve been! I didn’t get a wink of sleep when the thought of your suffering plagued me every minute of the night. I was terrified you might never wake. So when one of the nurses sent for me, imagine how fast I ran to see you. Of course, others laughed at me for my haste, but more of a dreamy sigh kind of laugh? Anyway, I am so happy to see you’re conscious.”
Despite his fatigue, his body reacted to her simple touch by spreading heat through his chest, up his neck, and to his ears.
He didn’t get the chance to reply when the doctor instructed him to drink the medicine he’d created. It tasted like something foul, and he grimaced as he coughed and forced it down. But he did so with a flicker of hope. Perhaps he wouldn’t die if he wasn’t unknowingly consuming poison each day.
“I need to speak with Vivi alone,” he said after washing the medicine down with a swig of water.
The other two left, shutting the door closed behind them. He wasted no time before turning to her. “Everyone thinks we’re engaged. Did you accept me?”
She sat in the chair the doctor had previously occupied and picked at an errant thread on her dress. “Of course, I did. I would be a hopeless fool not to.”
He released a long, relieved sigh, the unease in his heart quieting to a softer joy. “I’m glad.”
More distracted fiddling. “To warn you, my mother has become quite involved with the upcoming marriage. She wants to marry us in one week’s time,” and then she stressed the next part, “to avoid the heavy snowfalls should we wait longer.”
Or in other words, to marry them quickly to avoid scandal. It seemed her mother knew. Did anyone else?
He decided he didn’t care. Whatever happened, he would stay by Vivienne’s side. And he hoped rather than succumbing to death after just a few weeks or several months, he might live for much longer once his body recuperated.
He reached for her, needing to touch her, to feel the reassurance of her presence. His fingers grazed her shoulder, and too weak to lift his hand for long, it trailed down her arm and rested over her hand.
“And no one suspects the quick marriage?”
Laughter escaped her, but the worry still lingered in her eyes. She also continued to look anywhere else but at him. “Everyone is too busy thinking our courtship has been overly romantic, the details fed down the gossiping chain by your zealous friends. Well, romanticized details without all the scandal.” She laughed and shook her head, staring into her lap.
“How did this become so…widespread?”
She shrugged one shoulder and played with a strand of hair brushing her shoulder. “Barnaby made quite the fuss out of the proposal, spinning a few tales here and there. It’s quite the love story in the palace gossiping circle.” She bit her lip, her attention fixed on her hair. “Well, I supposeone-sidedlove story. But that doesn’t matter to everyone when all they see is what they want to see.”
