Page 31 of The Earl and Miss Muffet
Wiping rain from her cheeks, she nodded.
He stepped closer and tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. “As Eve says to Adam inParadise Lost, ‘thou to me art all things under heav’n.’ We will do this together.”
Peace and hope cradled her heart like none she had ever experienced. Her smile was slow but steady. “Your words give me courage.”
He stared at her, and his somber lips finally pulled into a smile to match hers. “A kiss is more powerful than words.” His warm hands gently brought her closer. The rain danced rivets on his face, but all she saw were his lips. They were cold as they met her mouth, but when his lips parted, warmth passed from him to her. His hand moved to the small of her back, and the space between them disappeared. His kiss deepened and, like a poem, became an expression of all their feelings. She lost herself in their embrace, in the movements of his mouth, and the feel of his arms protecting her from the frightening outside world.
She heard shouting before she truly registered that that someone was her father. She pulled away and saw him half-running toward them. Clutching Anton’s jacket, she cowered. His hands stroked her back, calming her in a way she had never experienced. His touch diminished her panic almost as quickly as it had come.
“Lord Crawford, I hope you mean to ask for my daughter.” Her father panted for air. “After what I’ve just seen, who knows what has happened during her stay here.”
“I do,” Anton shouted over the wind and rain. “I want to marry her straightaway.”
The anger seemed to drain from her father’s posture. “Oh. Very well, then. If you insist.” A semblance of a smile crossed his face. Surely, he knew the connection to an earl would benefit his own position.
Anton wasn’t finished though. “I should like to have her reside here until the wedding. Under my protection.”
“Do you mean to insinuate that I cannot protect her myself?”
Anton found Elena’s hand. “I believe this conversation would be better finished inside before your daughter catches cold.”
Mr. Muffet agreed, and the three of them made their way back to the house.
Mary, Mrs. Muffet, and Bianca were waiting for them just inside the vestibule.
“I told you, Father,” Bianca said. “She practically threw herself on him.”
“She did no such thing,” Anton corrected.
Elena put her hand up to silence him. He seemed surprised by that, as did her father. “Please, let me explain.” She stepped away from Anton and faced her sister. “I have let you control me for too long, but never again. I’m not returning home with you, and you will be powerless to touch me again.” She turned to her parents. “It was Bianca who insisted I claim the role of the younger daughter in public, not me. It was by her insistence that I wear the spectacles, the drab gowns, and never speak in public.” As she said it, she realized not defending herself all these years did not bring her family peace—it solidified the discord.
“Don’t listen to her!” Bianca screeched. “She is lying to you.”
Elena beseeched Mary next. “I was made to feel guilty if I spoke to anyone and felt unworthy of friendship.”
Bianca shook her head fervently. “They already feel sorry for you without you telling tales. Why would they want to be friends with someone like you?” She turned to Mary. “She is always doing things like this—pinching herself and blaming me.”
Anton reached over and squeezed Elena’s hand. Courage rose inside of her, lifting her from the bonds of fear that had paralyzed her for so long. “It is your word against mine, but I will no longer be wrapped in your web of lies. I am going to marry Lord Crawford.”
“No!” Bianca said incredulously.
Elena could suddenly see her sister as she really was—an insecure girl, desperate for affection. “My being married firstwill not make you any less of a person, Bianca. My existence in this life isn’t a disadvantage to you. You can still change as I have done. And as much as I have grown to despise you, I will not let hatred destroy my spirit. I am going to work every day to forgive you. You have no more power over me.” As she said it, she felt her own albatross fall from her neck. Elena’s heart was finally free.
Mr. Muffet cleared his throat. “The girls haven’t fought like this for years.”
“That’s because you haven’tpaid attentionfor years,” Mrs. Muffet said. “Bianca, you have always craved attention, and I fear it has not been in the best of ways. We have failed you both, and I promise to remedy it.”
“Me?” Bianca shook her head. “It’s all her! She’s lying! You cannot prove any of this.”
Elena pushed back a wet stand of hair from off her cheek. “Perhaps not, but I have kept a detailed log in my journal and am in possession of several threatening letters.”
Bianca gasped. “One more word, and I will see you ruined. I’ll cut off all your hair while you sleep, and no man will ever want you.”
Her mother gasped. “Bianca!”
Mr. Muffet reached over and grabbed his daughter by the arm. “That’s enough, young lady. We will speak of this at home. Elena, you will stay here until the wedding. Lord Crawford, please refrain from any more orchard romance until this is legal and done.”
Anton put his arm around Elena. “Yes, sir.”
