"No. What you're doing is-" He broke off and ran a hand through his hair. "Regina, I want you to know that no matter what, I'll respect your choices-even if they're ones I don't like."
"Do you not like my father?"
"It's not about liking him. It's about not liking the way he manipulates you." He sighed. "But it's not my place to become involved."
He was speaking cryptically, she realized, just like he had last week. He wanted her to do something, but what? "Do you want me to tell my father I'll not be hosting the ball I promised?"
"Do you want to host the ball?"
She could have brained the infuriating man! "What do you think?"
"I think you concern yourself far too much with what other people think about you. But this isn't why I came in here. Do you have a minute to come join me in another room? I have something for you."
She blushed. Ever since they'd returned from Watson Estate, Edward had been finding all sorts of reasons to get her alone. Not that she minded. She loved going off with him and letting him shower her with kisses and caresses. She, too, was becoming bolder in her responses to him. Unfortunately, her guests were set to arrive soon. "I don't have time for that right now, perhaps after the guests leave," she whispered.
A roguish grin split his lips as if to say he understood her meaning exactly. "I'll be sure to collect on that offer as soon as I can-even if it means I have to begin bodily removing guests. But that's not what I meant. Come, you'll see."
Her hand in his, Regina let Edward lead her from the room and down the hall to the drawing room. As soon as they crossed the threshold to the drawing room, he came to an abrupt halt.
"What the devil is that?"
His words mirrored her thoughts exactly.
"A wedding present from Lord Sinclair, it would seem," John announced proudly. A little too proudly, one might think. He stepped aside to allow Edward and Regina an unobstructed view of the three portraits that had been framed with gold frames and hung on the far wall of the drawing room.
All three were both similar and different. They were of nothing in particular, just huge swirls of brown and dark green paint. There was no set pattern to the portraits. In fact, it looked like a child squeezed blobs of paint onto the canvas, then ran his hand through it; a perfectly good waste of canvas if you asked Regina.
"This is from Lord Sinclair?" Edward asked.
"I'd assume so." John gestured to the bottom right corner of the portrait on the far right. "Those are his initials, are they not?"
Edward leaned close to the portrait, bringing his eye within inches of the gold frame. "JRS," he murmured. "Those are his initials."
"Why would he send these?" Regina could no longer hold her question.
"Yes, John, why would he send us such an unusual gift, I wonder?"
John held his hands out in front of himself as if he were innocent in the matter. "I don't know. Perhaps you should ask him."
"You can bet that I will," Edward said, the corner of his mouth tipping up into that crooked smile she'd come to love.
John cleared his throat. Then again. "Well, I must be off. I'd hate to be made to participate in your breakfast because I didn't vanish from sight fast enough."
Regina shook her head. He sure was a curious fellow. "Edward?"
Edward stopped examining the awful portrait in the middle and turned toward her. "Yes?"
"You don't think Lady Sinclair sent these to mock me, do you?" It didn't take a scholar to know it was not Lord Sinclair who'd painted those.
"No." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. "This is John's handiwork. After he was sent down from Eton, I ordered the toe cut in all of his stockings. Not off completely. I didn't want him to catch on; just a slit large enough that when he put his foot in, his big toe would poke through the silk."
"Why ever would you do that?"
"Because he ordered us gruel for breakfast," he said as if that explained everything. He gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "We're brothers; this is how we act toward each other. Aren't you glad we married so you could be a part of it?"
Her heart warmed at his words. "Actually, I am."
"Good. If you'd like, I can have these removed. I'd hate for them to clash with your decorating scheme."
Regina looked at the paintings again. Compared to the disaster the rest of the room already was, what was an additional three hideous pictures? "No. I think they should stay. They compliment the carpet, don't you think?"
He looked to the floor then to the pictures. "Perfectly."
"Then for now, they shall stay," she declared.
"My lord, the first guest carriage has just arrived," Calvert said from behind them.
The blood drained from Regina's face. This was it. She was about to host her first breakfast.
She did her best to fight her nerves as Edward escorted her to the front door where they'd stand to greet their guests.
The first couple to enter was Lord and Lady Sinclair.
They exchanged their greetings and then were directed to the back patio where outdoor tables and chairs had been set up and decorations hung.
A horse's whinny alerted her to their next set of guests. Her blood chilled; it was her father and Aunt Florence.
"Lady Watson," Father greeted, leaning in for a kiss.
Regina bridled but allowed him to press his cold lips to her cheek.
"Still lack control of your impulses, I see," he said, frowning.
"Do you see a problem with my wife's behavior, Mr. Harris?" Edward asked, his tone just as hard as the expression on his face.
"No, my lord."
"Very well, then. The party is gathering on the back terrace," he clipped.
Without casting her another glance, Father and Aunt Florence followed Calvert to the back terrace.
"Thank you," she whispered to Edward.
"No need to thank me," he grumbled. "But I can't fight all of your battles for you."
There he went again, speaking in riddles. Before Regina had time to ask him to clarify, a bespectacled man named Mr. Louis Thurwood and his wife, Charlotte, came to greet them.
Behind them were Lord and Lady Bogsmeir.
Regina frowned. Mr. Thurwood and Lord Bogsmeir were here just last week to attend Edward's meeting about the formation of a biological society.
Her frown deepened. So were Mr. Cleyborne and Mr. Ragsdale. The only difference today was they had their wives with them.
"Edward, why are these all the same gentlemen who came to your meeting last week?"
"They're not," he said, pointing to the carriage that had just come to a stop.
She recognized the coat of arms emblazoned on the outside immediately: Lord Edgewood.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Father would not be pleased when he realized all the guests, save him, Aunt Florence, and Lord and Lady Sinclair were here to discuss plants.
"Did you plan this?" she asked, striving to remain calm.
"No, you planned the breakfast; I just made the guest list."
She forced a smile to greet Lord and Lady Edgewood.
"That isn't funny, Edward. How could you do this to me?" she choked through the tears clogging her throat.
"I didn't do anything to you. I did this for you."
~Chapter Thirty-One~
Edward almost wished he'd never gotten involved with this breakfast. Almost. He hated the way her voice had wavered as if she-the strongest female he'd ever met-was on the verge of tears. And even more, he hated that it was all his fault. He'd issued those invitations with the hope that it would finally give Regina the last bit of courage she needed to stand up to her father. His trampling her as if she didn't exist for any other purpose than to gain him social invitations would never stop unless she stood up to him.
Of course, were Edward the hero in a fable, he'd fight her battles for her. He'd slay the fire-breathing dragon; then using his bare hands, he'd scale the jagged brick wall that lead to the highest window in the highest tower and rescue her. But he couldn't do that. It wasn't that simple. This wasn't his battle to fight, and if he fought it for her, she'd still never have the one thing she craved so dearly: respect from her father.
She'd never have that as long as she kept cowing to his demands and reminders of her family duty. Mr. Harris was the type who'd never be satisfied or impressed. And if he was, he'd find a reason not to be just to force Regina to do something else.
Edward's interference might get him to leave off for a short while, but it wouldn't truly free Regina. She had to do that for herself, and all he could do was stand back and hope he'd shown her just how important she was to him.