Page 34 of The Lord who Captured Her Innocent Heart
Ella lightly shoved him — feeling almost playful, despite the ache in her heart — attempting to hide him behind the rose bush. He lowered his head, speaking in a whisper.
“Ella, would you mind telling me what on earth you’re doing?” he asked.
Ella stared up at him. A wave of lust flowed through her. Her heart simmered.
“Tell me why you’re here, Peter,” she demanded.
Peter chuckled. He laughed like the sort of man who knew far more about the world than Ella ever could, or assumed he did.
Ella’s manner became more severe.“I know why you’re here. Would you like me to explain it back to you, then?” Ella said. She swept her arms across her chest, clenching them together tightly.
“Very well, Ella. If you think you’ve got me figured out, I’d very much like to hear it,” Peter said.
“You’re here to make a last-minute effort to stall the wedding,” Ella said. “You’re here to find Tatiana and tell her, once and for all, that you’re in love with her.”
Peter blinked at her. HIs lips parted, seeming to show his shock. Ella’s heart dipped lower in her chest, nearly diving into her stomach. She imagined it sizzling in acid, destroying every last ounce of whatever it was she felt for Peter, for Frederick, for any of them, forever. She almost prayed she could be that unfeeling. How less complex it all would be.
“Suppose I am here to do that,” Peter said. “Wouldn’t you thank me, if it worked? That would free Frederick up for you. It would allow you to make your move. I know you’re too terrified to do it, now.”
“Peter, I know it’s been easy for you, away from all of this at your own estate. Surely, you’ve been swimming in your own thoughts, apt to convince yourself of anything you please,” Ella spat. “But here in the Chesterton estate, I’ve spent the majority of the previous hours sewing my sister’s ridiculously intricate wedding gown. I’ve listened to her work tirelessly on the flowers. She cries and laughs, alternately, depending on the hour. And adding you — your chaos, your feelings — to the situation would only complicate everything.”
Peter’s cheeks grew increasingly slack. His smile erased, making his lips into a single line. Ella felt as though she was a cloud, shadowing over his illuminated ideas. She simply had to be that person, now.
Her sister needed her.
Peter leaned back, drawing himself across the ragged brick wall that lined the rose garden. His eyes returned to the Chesterton estate. Ella found them difficult to read: hazy and faraway. She imagined his thoughts tossing with images of her sister, of the life he’d imagined they would share.
Ella was very much understanding of this. She had a locked room in her mind in which she stored images of the world she’d wanted to inhabit with Frederick. Frederick and Ella, seated in countless libraries across England, poring through books, articulating newfound ways to discuss politics, fine-tuning their relationship to knowledge and ensuring that their children did the same. They wouldn’t have room for the silly nature of poetry, of art, of music. If it wasn’t an exchange of information, then what was the point?
Of course, she knew this was the inverse of Peter’s imagined reality with Tatiana.
“Why should we be so afraid of complicating it?” Peter asked now, dropping his head against the brick with a thunk. “Isn’t all of life just as messy and complicated as all of this?”
“Not weddings,” Ella insisted. “They’re meant to be a false projection of perfection. You know this.”
Back at the house, Tatiana’s voice steamed out of the window. At first, Ella imagined that it would be yet another shriek, cast towards one of the maids. But instead, it was the beginnings of a song. Tatiana’s voice was bird-like, thick with emotion. Ella’s heart hung still heavier, knowing this would make Peter’s love double, perhaps triple. How could it not?
“Listen, Peter,” Ella murmured, her eyes clouded with tears. “I’m willing to stand to the side and allow my sister to marry the man I believe to be the love of my life. Tatiana and Frederick have chosen one another, and we have to respect that.”
Ella’s fingers flickered. She longed to sweep them across Peter’s chest, to feel it as it moved up and down, up and down with his deep inhalations.
“You saw them at the garden party,” she murmured, licking her lips. “You saw that they have surprising compatibility, something I never gave them credit for. Perhaps we’ve been incorrect in our assumption of the horrible nature of their union. Perhaps — dare I say it — we are wrong.”
Ella’s words hung in the air between them. Peter took a slight step towards her. Ella was conscious that their lips were mere inches away from one another. She imagined that he pressed forward, slipped his lips over hers. She imagined being wrapped tightly in his embrace, perhaps feeling fully safe, fully herself for the first time in her life.
But the silence lingered on. Ella’s mind raced, knowing that if they were caught, they would be caught in the midst of a scandal — one that might very much alter the course of Tatiana’s wedding. “Why didn’t you think of me, Ella?” she imagined her sister spewing. “Why didn’t you imagine what you would do to me, when you ran off to the garden with Peter? How terribly, terribly selfish of you.”
My, how strange the mind was, Ella thought now.
Chapter 16
Peter was conscious of Ella’s scent. In the midst of the rose garden, he inhaled slowly, allowing his nose and mouth and tongue to take on the slight vanilla that streamed from her skin. Ella’s little face turned upward, her lips heavy, wet. She’d just pleaded with him, asking that he not dare to do the very thing he’d spent the previous three days drawing up the confidence to do.
“Don’t tell her how you feel, Peter,” Ella murmured again. “It’s simply not worth it.”
Peter felt a strange stab in his gut. He’d been waffling from one idea to the other, regarding this situation with Tatiana, and found himself slowly, but surely, edging towards Ella’s side. Throughout his life, he’d cast Frederick in an incredible light, deeming him one of the most intelligent, whimsical, strange — yet wonderfully so — men he’d met in his life. “I count myself lucky to be not just your family, but your friend,” Peter had said to him on numerous occasions.
Now, was he really looking to pull the happiness from under Frederick’s nose? Was he really willing to tear Frederick’s heart into two pieces, demand that he start anew with someone else? It was frankly true that even in tearing Tatiana and Frederick apart, they wouldn’t necessarily decide to transfer their love to Peter and Ella. In fact, they might spite them, as a result of the ended engagement.
