Page 98 of A Literary Liaison
Edgar gazed at the precious heirloom, his eyes widening with profound gratitude. The weight of tradition and family legacy in his hand filled him with an overwhelming sense of joy and purpose.
“Mother,” he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, “I… I am utterly overcome. This gesture means more to me than words can express.”
In a display of unbridled enthusiasm, Edgar enveloped his mother in a warm embrace, then lifted her. The duchess, momentarily startled, yelped and laughed.
“My boy,” she murmured, her voice suffused with laughter. “Go and claim the happiness that has eluded you for so long.”
*
Edgar, with allhaste and purpose, made his way to Eva’s bedchamber, his footsteps echoing through the quiet corridors. Upon reaching her door, he rapped firmly, his urgency palpable in the late evening hour. The door creaked open, revealing Eva’s startled lady’s maid, who bade His Grace wait in the hall. Edgar acquiesced, though his demeanor betrayed the restlessness of a man with momentous news to share.
Moments later, his sister emerged, swathed in a frilled dressing gown, her hair neatly tucked beneath a lace-trimmed nightcap. Her countenance bore the unmistakable mark of sisterly vexation.
“What urgent matter compels you to disturb me at this unseemly hour?” she asked, her tone sharp with irritation.
Edgar, undeterred, pressed forward. “I must know which guest chamber houses Miss Linde. It is a matter of utmost importance.”
Eva’s visage transformed from annoyance to astonishment, her eyebrows arching in a manner that might have amused Edgar had the situation been less momentous.
“And for what purpose do you seek this knowledge? I’ll not be party to any impropriety that might besmirch a lady’s reputation,” she declared, her voice tinged with righteous indignation.
“Eva! You wound me with such base assumptions,” Edgar protested. “I assure you, my intentions are nothing short of honorable.”
His sister’s arms crossed, her expression hardening into one of skepticism that made Edgar feel as though he were once again a callow youth under her scrutiny.
“If your purpose is merely conversation, surely it can wait until a more appropriate hour.”
“You must understand, I have Mother’s blessing in this endeavor,” Edgar countered, his patience wearing thin.
Eva’s face contorted in distaste. “Good heavens, Edgar! Do youseek maternal approval for all your intimate pursuits? How utterly unseemly!”
Edgar heaved a weary sigh, his eyes rolling skyward in exasperation. “Nay, sister. Mother has given her blessing for me to court Miss Linde properly. I have made her wait long enough. I can tarry no longer in expressing my intentions.”
As he spoke, Eva’s countenance underwent a remarkable transformation. The angelic features that belied her oftentimes devilish nature emerged, delight evident in her eyes.
Eva clasped her hands together, her eyes alight with excitement. “Oh, Edgar! Are we to anticipate nuptial festivities in the near future? Heavens, a sister-in-law at last!”
“I implore you, lower your voice,” Edgar admonished, casting a wary glance toward the lady’s maid’s quarters. He drew Eva closer and whispered, “Which chamber?”
“The Hydrangea Room,” she replied, a knowing smile on her lips.
“You have my deepest gratitude,” Edgar said, though something in Eva’s expression gave him pause.
Eva’s smile turned distinctly smug. “I must say,” she whispered conspiratorially, “Mr. Steele and Miss Lovelace’s feud bears a striking resemblance to your and Miss Linde’s arguments during our game night.”
Edgar started, his hand flying instinctively toward her mouth before catching himself. “You are entirely mistaken. I am a duke with weighty responsibilities to the estate. I hardly possess the leisure time to engage in literary dalliances.”
“Oh, Edgar,” Eva’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Your solicitor, I’m afraid, harbors a particular weakness where I’m concerned. Poor Mr. Beckett stood no chance against my considerable charms.”
Edgar erupted. “Your charms? How dare he trifle with a woman so many years his junior! I’ll kill him!”
She bristled with indignation. “He’s done nothing improper, to mychagrin. Besides, I am twenty years of age! He is merely a decade my senior. And might I add, far more interesting than the simpering boys Mother parades before me at every social gathering.”
“I shall have stern words with Beckett on the morrow,” Edgar growled, his protective instincts flaring.
“Oh, do show mercy,” Eva pleaded, her hand resting upon his arm. “The poor man was quite overwhelmed by my persistent inquiries. Besides, who else should know of your secret identity if not your devoted sister?”
Edgar’s expression grew grave as the implications settled upon him. “Tell me truly, does anyone else share in this knowledge?”
