‘It is going to be awful, is it not?’
‘Frannie says so long as the man knows what he is about then it is not so bad.’
The thought that Freddie would know what to do didn’t sit well with Emily either.
Eloisa squeezed her hand. ‘I am sure that Freddie will not be unkind to you. It was he who told me where to look for you.’
‘He did?’ Emily had thought no one had noticed her slip from the ballroom.
‘Yes. He came to find me to say that he thought you might need me.’
‘Oh.’ That was thoughtful. Although why had he not come to see her himself? Was it because he was too busy with his friends or because he thought she would need her friend in this moment? Whatever the answer, she rather wished he had come to her.
‘And, he is always smiling,’ Eloisa added, before Emily’s thoughts could scatter.
‘Yes, he seems to be a very happy man.’ Although not historically when she was around. Emily wasn’t going to think about all the times they had crossed swords. She resolved not to tease him and if he truly hated books that much, she would not read in front of him either, not if she could help it. She was sure he would often be out; he was much in demand in Society and all those people who were surrounding him now would want him to remain part of their circle. She and Freddie need not spend all that much time with each other and if that thought was not as reassuring as it should have been, then she would have to learn to accept it.
Chapter Twenty
Two nights before his wedding, Freddie sat in Glanmore House staring at the wall of his brother’s Blue Lounge. His brothers were all around him and he wasn’t sure why. Tobias should have been doing what he always did, which was being quiet and stern somewhere deep inside the house. Edward and Christopher should have been out enjoying themselves as they always did. There was no need to sit and stare blankly with him, as if they were all at a wake and they were paying their respects to someone by not moving or speaking or generally acting like normal people. He could do that by himself.
‘Why is it so blue in here?’ he asked when he could no longer stand the odd silence.
‘Because it’s the Blue Lounge,’ said Edward as if this was obvious.
‘Surely it wasn’t the Blue Lounge before it was painted this colour. The name must have come after someone decided to coat every surface in dark blue. It’s very oppressive.’ Freddie had never given it much thought before, but now he realised how overwhelming the colour was. It covered every wall, every cushion, every rug; even the lamp stands were the same. He wondered whether someone had come up with the uninspiring name and then decorated the space accordingly or whether it was the other way around and then he wondered whyhe was thinking about such a ridiculous thing when his entire life was about to change irrevocably.
He was going to have a wife the day after tomorrow, someone he needed to look after for the rest of his life. He wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for such a responsibility, especially when his mind kept snagging on the wedding night.Hemight be terrified, but his body was incredibly excited. It kept perking up at inconvenient moments, reminding him of what was to come, making it impossible to focus on anything else other than the recurring image of Emily’s skin. He’d been clutching the butter knife for a solid five minutes this morning, until a footman had discreetly coughed, reminding him that the breakfast room was no place for such fantasies. He’d hurriedly finished before taking himself off to his room to deal with his reaction to his thoughts in private.
‘Perhaps it’s to distinguish it from the Green Lounge and the Summer Lounge,’ Edward suggested, bringing Freddie’s mind back to his original question.
‘Does it really have to be so blue though?’ Freddie wasn’t sure why he was talking about the colour of the room; it was horrible but he doubted that was the cause of his restless mood. What he wanted to say was that he was sorry he had been caught with Emily when he was half-naked, therefore making it impossible for him not to propose to her. That he was also sorry because he’d known that Tobias was thinking about courting Emily and he had gone ahead and kissed her anyway. That other than being distant and terse, Tobias was a good man who didn’t deserve these actions from his younger brother. That even though Freddie was in the wrong and even though he should be apologising, he couldn’t be truly sorry about the outcome. That it was actually a relief to have no other option but to marry the woman who took up all his fantasies and had done for years. All of that was building inside of him, churning low in his belly and catching in histhroat, refusing to become whole words and sentences. Instead of everything he should say, he was criticising the name of the lounge. He was a half-wit, but then, he already knew that.
Tobias pushed himself to his feet; Freddie half wondered if he was going to start a speech but that was not his brother’s way. However, Tobias made his way over to the sideboard and poured four large measures of brandy, before handing them out. Freddie downed his before Tobias had retaken his seat.
‘It is just as well Tobias wasn’t about to propose a toast,’ commented Edward dryly, nodding at Freddie’s now empty glass.
‘Were you?’ asked Freddie.
Tobias raised an eloquent eyebrow that suggested he was indeed about to do so, although the facial gesture could just have easily meant no. Freddie got up and poured himself another generous measure. Instead of putting the bottle back on the sideboard, he brought it with him, placing it by his feet.
‘Is the thought of the wedding that bad?’ asked Edward, eyeing the bottle.
‘No, I…’ Freddie took a long sip, and then another because the words were still stuck deep within him. ‘I feel I owe an apology.’
Tobias raised his other eyebrow in a gesture Freddie interpreted as,do go on. The problem was, he wasn’t surehowto do so. He took another sip of his brandy and another before realising he had taken all the sips and his glass was empty once more. By the time he’d refilled it and taken a few more large gulps of the fiery liquid, a heavy calmness was settling on him. He could do this; he could find the words to explain exactly what he meant and resolve the tension he was almost sure existed between him and Tobias. It wasn’t always clear whether it only existed in Freddie’s mind; with his taciturn brother it was often hard to tell whether Tobias was utterly furious or bored orneither of those things. Either way, Freddie did owe him some sort of an apology.
‘The thing is…’ he waved his glass around to emphasisthe thing‘…Emily was there on the bench. Well, she had been there before, but I did not say anything.’ He put one finger on his lips to demonstrate how he had not said a word to his brothers. It hadn’t been a hard secret to keep; that Freddie had known something about Emily had thrilled him. He’d kept the knowledge safely tucked away, right next to the part of him that knew she always smelled of flowers and that she had a tiny, almost imperceptible scar on her forehead just below her hairline. In the long years of her being his nemesis, these little bits of her were all that he had. ‘But this time, she was on the bench that I made and she looked so beautiful. But then she always looks beautiful and so no one was surprised.’ Freddie wasn’t sure if he was making sense, but at least brandy had loosened his tongue. Finally words were coming out instead of being buried deep within him.
‘I see,’ said one of his brothers, Edward possibly.
‘But I thought it was a bad idea. No, that is not true, I thought it was a very, very good idea. Possibly the best one anyone had ever had, but afterwards, I thought it was the wrong idea.’
‘What was?’ Again, probably Edward but Freddie wasn’t sure.
He was deep into his story now, although he should have perhaps kept the bench bit a secret. None of his brothers knew he liked to work with his hands, or if they did, they didn’t mention it because, well, they were all the sons of a duke. They were not meant to get their hands dirty. Perhaps they would put his confession about the bench down to the amount of brandy he had imbibed. Although Edward and Tobias had been in the clearing that day and would have seen it. They’d probably not commented because of all the other things that had been happening at the time. ‘The kissing,’ he clarified.
Christopher leaned over and pried the brandy glass out of his fingers. ‘I am not sure you need any more of this. You are already foxed enough.’
