John nodded.
"I've already told you that I do not think this will be the blemish on your reputation as a vicar you're imagining it to be."
"It's not even that."
Edward sighed. Between John and Regina, he didn't know who was more vague. "All right, are you afraid you've lost all of your friends' respect because you didn't bed her?"
"No."
"Then what the devil is the problem?"
"You."
"Me?" Edward asked, slapping his open palm against his chest.
John found something about his boots that seemed to be of great interest and studied it for a moment before finding the right words to speak. "Have you...er...changed your opinion of me?"
Ah, so that's what was troubling him. "No, John. I haven't." Edward scuffed his boot along the bottom edge of a nearby table leg. "Would it matter to you if I had?"
"Yes." He swallowed audibly. "I know most boys crave the respect of their fathers, but not me. It was always your approval I sought. Not his."
The unspoken reasons for John's statements hung between them. "You can't blame him completely," he said softly. "He couldn't know she'd be such an awful mother, too."
"No, but he could have been a better father." He flicked his wrist through the air. "It doesn't matter anymore, does it?"
"It never did."
"To you perhaps." John propped his elbow up on the end table next to him and leaned his head against his hand. "At least he was a father to you, for a while. I have doubts he ever even knew my middle name."
Edward swore under his breath. John was right though, on both accounts. Father had been more for Edward than any of the others. John, being so much younger than Edward, had never had much of a chance to know his father before Mother died. "It's little consolation, I realize, but I know your full name, John, and your birthdate."
"I know you do. You might be deplorable when it comes to your own wife, but you were always a good older brother."
Despite himself, Edward laughed. "With any luck, there's still hope for me on that score, too."
John made a face similar to what he'd have made at fourteen if someone was talking about ways to woo their wives. "What was it you came here to say, anyway?"
Right. He'd almost forgotten. "I've decided to take a trip to Watson Estate for a few days and wanted to ask you to answer any questions the servants have in regards to the meeting I'll be hosting when I return. There shouldn't be any, but in case one arises, I'd like you to answer it."
John groaned. "Do you not trust Lady Watson to oversee the placement of the furniture retrieved from the attic?"
"I do. But she'll be with me at Watson Estate."
"Oh?" John questioned, waggling his eyebrows.
Edward scowled at him. "Stop that. It's perfectly acceptable for a man to take his wife with him for a few days in the country."
"I know. But it seems you've been spending a lot of time with her as of late."
"That was your suggestion, was it not?"
"In a matter of speaking, it was. But I didn't think you'd follow it. I assumed you'd find something she enjoyed doing and tolerate it every now and then to appease her. Though he's reluctant to admit it, it seems Lord Sinclair uses that tactic."
"Tennis," Edward muttered, curling up his lip in disgust. "She seemed to enjoy that fairly well, but I don't think she liked it well enough to enjoy tennis lessons." Heaven knew he'd hate to be subjected to a fate of tennis lessons.
"I can see where that might be a problem with a heavy skirt and all," John mused. "Have you considered introducing her to pall mall?"
"Absolutely not," Edward said adamantly. "I might not care for tennis, but I abhor pall mall. I'm sure I'll introduce her to the game, at some point. Ideally, after we have a few offspring who are old enough to play with her, so I don't have to."
"It's not so bad."
Grimacing, Edward said, "Perhaps not. But I detest the game and cannot fathom why anyone enjoys it." John was right, though; Regina would probably enjoy pall mall better than tennis. She seemed not to mind playing lawn chess at Ridge Water, even if she didn't know the rules. If his next plan failed, he'd buy a confounded pall mall set. Until then, he'd pray that wouldn't be necessary.
"Tell me something, Edward? Did Regina really have such a terrible time playing tennis, or is there another reason you're taking her with you to the country?"
Edward dropped his elbows to his knees and bent forward. Since when had his youngest brother grown so damn perceptive? He was only fourteen. He was supposed to be ignorant and causing trouble. He undoubtedly was doing his share of the second due to his lack of the first. Even so, he wasn't supposed to know so much. The truth was Regina had enjoyed tennis. From the looks of it, she appeared to enjoy it just as much as he enjoyed getting a new shipment of plants from the Amazon. Which was fine-excellent, even, but what if there was something they both enjoyed doing?
He shook his head. When had this become about finding things for them to do together? He just wanted to make amends for his part in the deception that hurt her.
"Edward?"
His head shot up. "Yes?"
"A man can only fight so long before his heart makes him surrender."
"What the devil are you talking about?" His eyes narrowed on the book John had been reading when he came in. "Have you been reading the book of Proverbs again?"
"Of course, I need to be well versed on the advice I give to my wayward parishioners. How fortunate for me that I'll be very well practiced after living with you until I'm eighteen."
"Put the Bible down and get to sleep, John. You're only fourteen, not forty."
John intertwined his fingers and placed his hands on the back of his head, leaning back in the chair. "Oh how I wish I were." A smile took his face as if he were lost in a dream. "My life will be so much simpler then. I'll be a quiet country vicar with a nice quiet wife and children who never get into trouble and drink up my advice as if it were punch."
Edward snorted. "That's what's called a fantasy. Most men reserve those to dream about beautiful women joining them in their bed because they can't charm one there in real life. If I had to wager what your life will be like at forty, I'd say you'll be married to a lady who has the ability to drive you mad and have a brood of urchins who defy you at every turn."
"I think not," John said with a scowl.
"What was that you said a minute ago? Oh, right, 'A man can only fight so long before his heart makes him surrender.' I predict you'll find out the truth of that statement soon enough." An image of a young girl who used to have a heavy dose of calf-love for John came to mind. "Say, do you remember Rebecca Klammer?"
"Do not ever mention that name to me again," John said.
Edward tried to contain his smile. "Didn't Mother make you entertain her when Mrs. Klammer came to visit Mother?"
"Yes." John's lips twisted as if the memory brought him great pain. "No matter what I did, she'd clap her hands, jump around, and try to kiss me as if I'd just won freedom in the gladiator arena."
"She sounds charming."
"She wasn't."
"Don't fight it, John. You enjoyed her attention just like you'll enjoy your wife's, and I will be right there to delight in your heart's surrender."
"No maddening lady will have the ability to make me surrender, I guarantee it."
"But if it's what the heart wants..." Edward trailed off and walked to the door before John had the opportunity to goad Edward about what his heart wanted; because honestly, he didn't know anymore. And that was the reason his father had arranged his marriage for him.
~Chapter Twenty-One~
"Good morning, Regina," Edward greeted before Regina could fully cross the threshold into the breakfast room.
"Good morning to you, too, Edward."
"I've a surprise for you today." Ah, that explained why a grin larger than the stiff, white crescent along the right shoulder of her nightgown was splitting his face.
"You do?"
"That I do." He stood and walked to the sideboard with her.
She allowed him to help her fix her plate. "There's something I need to talk to you about first."
"Does it have anything to do with the breakfast, your duty as baroness, Lady Sinclair's demands or anything of the like?"