Page 22 of The Duke's Auctioned Spinster
“Come, Edmund, put your back into it. This will make a man of you,” his father shouted. They were in a rowboat while hismother and sisters waited on the bank of the lake, resting on a picnic blanket. Edmund was a boy, but even with his youthful vigor, he felt the strain. Sweat popped on his head, and it felt as though his arms were being pulled from their sockets.
The water was clear, shimmering as sunlight danced on its surface. Edmund exhaled deeply with every pull of the oar. The water looked gentle at first glance, but it was strong and seemed to resist him.
“I thought you said this would be fun,” he grunted, blinking away sweat from his eyes.
His father grinned impishly. Edmund did not know it at the time, but he would grow to resemble his father in so many ways.
“This is fun! This is what life is about: testing yourself against nature. We must best this water, because if we fail, then we will have to stay out here and eventually drown.”
“We could swim.”
“Do you think you could swim with your arms as sore as they are? And what about the others? Do you think they’re going to wait for us through the night? And that’s not to mention the creature that lurks at the bottom of the lake,” he widened his eyes and spoke with an ominous tone.
Edmund furrowed his brow.
“That’s just a story,” he said.
“Is it?” his father countered. Edmund was sure it was, because it didn’t make any sense that a great leviathan was living in the lake. However, he still peered over the side of the boat and looked warily into the water. A shadow passed beneath, and fear shuddered through him.
The possibility was enough to strike fear into his heart.
He gathered his strength and continued rowing.
“There will come a time when this is second nature to you, and you will not even have to stop to catch your breath,” his father said.
They were making a lap of the lake. Lydia was running along beside the lake, waving with both her hands and cheering them on, while Charlotte and their mother were looking at various plants.
“It’s moments like these that you need to cherish, Edmund. I know you’re too young to understand it now, but these are the moments that are fleeting in life. The ones you spend with your family are the most important. One day you look around, and you will think to yourself that you’re the luckiest man in the world.”
“Are the eggs not to your liking, Your Grace?” George asked, his insistence evident as concern crossed his face.
Edmund was shaken from his private reverie. Memories of his parents often came without warning and shook him to his core. He was ten years removed from their deaths now, but the shock was still the same.
“Of course they are, I was just thinking… the lake you say, well,” Edmund mused, bringing the fork to his mouth. The eggs were light and fluffy, with a hint of peppery seasoning and butter. He paused while he chewed, only speaking again when he swallowed.
“That is a fine idea, George, a fine idea indeed, but perhaps not the right location for Lady Rose.”
“Is she not fond of the water, Your Grace?”
She’s not fond of me, Edmund thought, and allowed himself a wry smile.
“I don’t believe she would enjoy being in a boat with me. I think she might prefer to have steady ground beneath her feet,” Edmund said.
Although really, he was thinking about the rules she had set, and the ones he imposed upon himself. This was just supposed to be a mindless distraction after all, a means for him to fritter away some afternoons and give people the illusion that he was actually contemplating marriage.
But if they went to the lake, they would be secluded, especially if they rowed onto the water. Besides, she might ask about his childhood memories, and the thought of showing these innermost glimpses of himself seemed dreadfully sentimental.
Frankly, it was enough to make him shudder.
It had to be public and proper, so he wouldn’t be forced into a situation where they were close again, where the beguiling nature of her eyes overwhelmed him, and the pretty bow of her lips beckoned him to... he stabbed his fork into the last piece of sausage and chewed it angrily.
“Do you have any idea why work has to be so utterly boring? All of these figures should be interesting enough to hold my attention,” Edmund muttered.
“I am not entirely sure, Your Grace. I suppose it is a cross one in your position must bear.”
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Edmund sighed. “Oh, if only you could swap places with me for a day, George, you would be amazed at how difficult things can be. There is just so much to think about,” Edmund turned away from his breakfast plate, and his work, and moved to the window.
“Indeed, I would not dare imagine it, Your Grace,” George said as he moved to the desk and lifted the tray, picking up flecks of eggs that had escaped the fork and lingered on the surface of the desk. George pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the desk down before placing it back in his pocket.
