Everything had been different then. She'd falsely believed she was riding off to start a new life; one with love and laughter; one where she'd be surrounded by people who loved her as much as she loved them. The thought was so foreign to what she'd known before, it was almost impossible for her to completely comprehend it.
Then the fantasy she'd been living crumbled like the vegetable display she'd seen that day at Covent Garden, leaving her lost and frayed; incomplete and uncertain. Alone.
Perhaps she'd been wrong though. She might have been some of those things, but never alone, nor incomplete. Edward, for as awkward as he was around her, at times, had never fully abandoned her. Her fears that he'd ignore her or cast her aside were unrealized. He'd done neither. Instead, he'd put aside the things he loved to spend time with her.
Her heart swelled and ached at the same time. Never, had she stopped loving him. Never once, had she wished him dead for his deceit. Compared to her father's manipulations and the lies behind Edward's hasty "offer" of marriage, what Edward had done was nothing.
She peeked up at him from below her lashes. His eyes were closed, breathing steady, and lips opened just enough to expose the bottom half of his top teeth. Was it possible-
The carriage lurched forward, abruptly ending her thoughts.
Edward's grip tightened on her then relaxed. "What the devil?"
Regina leaned forward to see what Edward was looking at out the window.
A burly man with broad shoulders and hands the size of hens walked from their front door and climbed up into a large delivery wagon. The sun was almost gone from the sky now, making it nearly impossible to read. She squinted her eyes to read the faded blue lettering along the back: Willis.
Regina's heart stopped beating.
Or perhaps it just felt that way due to the invisible vice that had just been clamped onto it.
If there was any chance of Edward ever loving her, it was gone right along with Mr. Bruno Willis and his delivery wagon.
~Chapter Twenty-Seven~
"Did you order something?"
Regina sat frozen, unable to form a word, or even a thought.
"Regina?" He gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
She still couldn't answer. Like her father and Lady Sinclair, Edward would soon think her incompetent, and she had nobody to blame but herself and her own quick actions.
Edward nudged her forward. "If what you ordered is making you this silent, it must be something naughty, indeed."
"Please, Edward," she breathed.
"Please, what?" He jumped down from the carriage then lifted her boneless body down next to him. "I thought ladies enjoyed showing off their purchases."
"Not these," she muttered.
He lifted his brows. "Indeed? I can hardly wait."
Regina couldn't wait long enough, and before she knew what she was doing, she'd moved to block his way to the front door.
Heedless to the human wall that had been erected in front of him, he reached behind her and opened the door.
She placed a hand on either side of the doorjamb as if her five foot, four inch frame would actually keep every one of his five foot, ten inches from getting inside.
His firm hands found their way to her waist and he lifted her as if she were nothing but a bag of feathers. He set her down just inside the door then wordlessly walked down the hall to where a dumbstruck Calvert was standing like a carved statue outside the drawing room.
Squaring her shoulders, Regina followed. She'd created this mess, and she needed to take responsibility for it. Even if it meant losing what little esteem Edward held her in.
Edward disappeared from sight, entering the drawing room.
His stepping in front of Calvert's line of sight must have awoken the older man from his trance, for he turned to Regina with wide eyes. "It's as you requested, my lady," he said in his usual tone, handing her the diagram she'd drawn for the man at the shop.
She acknowledged him and took the paper from his loose grasp then turned her eyes to the atrocity she knew the drawing room would be. Had she any breath in her, she'd have gasped.
The room looked identical to the drawing she'd left and far more hideous than she'd imagined in her mind.
Green carpets had been laid. Shimmery gold wall paper had been plastered to the walls. Purple drapes hung in front of the large window that, when opened, would spill a generous amount of light across the person sitting on the blue ottoman and writing at the cherry secretary. A red settee positioned across from a pink settee was in the center of the room with a small oak end table placed at the end of the pink settee. Two chairs, one with orange upholstery and the other with yellow, were placed on either side of a small whitewashed game table in the back corner.
Slowly, Edward turned around to face where she was standing. His eyebrows were near his hairline. His lower jaw was fighting a losing battle against gravity. And his blue eyes were blinking so rapidly one might think he was trying to flush out a bug.
Regina opened her mouth to apologize, but instead, the most inappropriate sputter of laughter crossed her lips. "Oh Edward," she said, trying not to giggle at his expression. This isn't funny, Regina, and laughing about it will only make it worse.
"I-I-"
"Have been rendered speechless," Regina suggested before she could think better of it.
He nodded. "The only thing that's missing is portraits of jesters mounted on the walls."
That was it. Regina could hold her laughter no longer. Her body convulsed as peals of laughter rent the air.
***
Edward was dumbfounded. What the devil had just happened? His wife who rarely cracked a smile, and laughed even less, had turned into a madwoman.
Her face glowed with her merriment. Her smile so wide, her cheeks must hurt. The corners of her eyes resembled fans from the laugh lines. Her cheeks shone in the candlelight with freshly shed tears.
She was a sight to behold.
"I-I'm sorry," she gasped, laughter still wracking her body.
He stared at her in awe. As startling as the room had been, her mirth captured his attention far better. He didn't want the moment to end.
She straightened-or attempted to, at least. "Your face," she said, swiping at the tears on her flushed cheeks.
"I can't help how my face looks," he teased, making her start laughing all over again as he'd hoped. Where had this woman been these past months? The answer hit him like a musket ball to the heart. She'd been hiding; hiding behind his interests and duty; hiding so not to cause a disruption or be scorned. She'd been taught that her only role in life was to marry well in order to elevate her father to the higher circles.
Nothing was about her. Ever.
His heart squeezed.
Hopefully, after tonight, she'd never again feel she had to hide her true self.
"Regina?" His voice was uneven, but he didn't care.
"Forgive me," she said, sobering.
"For what?" he burst out. "For decorating the drawing room?"
She nodded. "I didn't think... I'm sorry, Edward." All the mirth she'd been bursting with but a moment ago had evaporated. "Forgive me, please."
He scowled at her words. "Regina, have I ever told you how much I hate it when you ask me to forgive you?"
"Y-you do?"
"Yes. I find it demeaning toward someone I care a great deal for: you."
Her lips parted. "Oh."
"Yes. And I don't wish to ever hear you say those words to me-or anyone else-again." He hoped she wouldn't mistake the roughness in his voice as anger or disdain directed at her. He took a deep breath to push aside his anger toward her father for the maddening habits he'd instilled in her. "Why did you do this, Regina?"
Tears filled her brown eyes, but not the happy ones that he'd glimpsed before. "I-I was angry."
He studied her fallen face. "That gruel must have been bad, indeed."
"I can pay you back, Edward. I promise. I'll sew a thousand gowns if that's what-"
Edward's lips descended on hers and his hands found her tearstained cheeks, cupping them. "Enough," he said, raggedly. "There will be no more of that kind of talk. Now, tell me the truth; why did you decorate the drawing room to look as if a carriage belonging to a circus troupe unloaded in here?"
"I already told you," she whispered. "I was angry."
"Why?" His heart raced in anticipation of her answer. What had possibly angered her to do this?
"Do you remember the day Lady Sinclair came over to offer me her flawless help?"
He nodded. "This is what you'd found mildly entertaining to amuse yourself with for the rest of that day?"