Ha.
Haha.
Hahahahaha.
In the safety of Edward’s carriage, her chuckles turned into maniacal cackling. Tears streamed down her face, and she bent double, wrapping her arms around her legs and smothering her face in the damp, smelly fabric of her breeches.
Hahahahahaha.
She took breath where she could get it, but the laughter wouldn’t stop. Her midsection burned from it and her mouth and cheeks soon ached.
She sat up and wiped away her tears with the back of her coat sleeve, but as much as she tried, she couldn’t stop them falling. Tears mixed with snot and the blood on her lip—a salty, ironish taste in her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, looking at Edward. He had an expression of utter horror and was holding out a clean, pressed handkerchief as though that expensive scrap of linen had any chance of righting the mess she’d become.
That thought sent her off into another fit of giggles as she took the handkerchief from his hand and wiped her nose.
“Are you quite well?” Edward asked with an apprehensive look that suggested he thought her completely mad. Which perhaps she was.
“I’m fine. Perfectly, absolutely, fine. Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, what could possibly have occurred recently to make me nae fine?” She waved her hand over her wrinkled, blood-stained, reeking clothes.
He frowned—seriously, duke-ishly. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, the amethyst buttons on his gloves matching his amethyst cuff buttons, which played nicely with the purple and blue embroidery on his waistcoat. The perfect Duke of Wildeforde. And here she was, a teary, snotty, muck-covered mess.
Hahaha.
“I cannot see the humor in the situation.”
She snorted back a laugh. “Truly? You cannae see the humor in my being arrested for vegetable throwing, of all things? Of you and I being forced to reside under the same roof? Ye dunnae find that straight from a farce?”
Because the judge’s decree was Shakespearean in its twisted humor. She laughed again, her stomach aching from it. The more his countenance flattened, the more his hands gripped together, the harder it was to keep the giggling at bay.
“No. I cannot see the humor in that.”
His expression! As if the day’s events were being force-fed to him and tasted of sulfur and iron. Of all the ridiculous things that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, his expression was the most ridiculous. A fresh wave of tears ran down her face. She wiped them away with the back of her glove, wrinkling her nose at the smell.
“This is childish,” he said.
She nodded. What else could she do? She couldn’t argue. It’s not like any of this wasactuallyamusing.
Her business deal was at risk.
Her actual freedom was at risk.
And living under the same roof as the man she once thought she’d marry? Oh, her heart was at risk.
No, this really wasn’t funny. She drew in a deep breath and let out a shaky exhale. Then she repeated until, finally, she was able to draw in her facial expressions and bring her voice under control. She also placed her hands primly in her lap. “You’re right. I apologize.”
Edward grunted. “It has been a remarkable day. It’s no surprise that you are overset.”
Overset.
“Overset?”
He held his hands up in defense. “I’m simply saying that most men would feel rather shaken having been thrown into prison, so it’s not a surprise that your sensibilities have reached their limits.”
If it weren’t for the fact that her hand was already throbbing from the fight she’d started, she would have slapped him. She was tempted to open the carriage door and toss him out.
“I am nae overset.”
