Page 6 of Duchess Needed
After hearing all of that, Edward could not help but stare at her blankly. He had not expected that at all. Contrary to what he had told his aunt, he had expected to do the job of weeding out less than suitable candidates himself. He imagined many women would arrive at his dwelling, claiming to be a wife beyond his dreams, ready to do whatever he desired.
Edward never thought to expect a woman who would come to plead on behalf of another.
“She sounds exceptional,” he told the mysterious woman before him, unsure of what more to say. “How old is she?”
“Nineteen, Your Grace.” The dedicated sister replied, seemingly relieved that he had shown some interest.
Edward nodded, trying to feign interest. “And does she have any talents?”
“Well... she is quite adept at needlework and she has a lovely voice. Her pianoforte skills however... I believe she could certainly improve on them. We all have more room to grow,” the lady said, looking bashful for a moment.
The reaction, paired with the slow spread of pink across her cheeks struck Edward in a strange way. He discovered he liked this look on her, satisfied to know that despite the calm and impassive expression she wore, there was more to her.
“What is your name?”
“Phoebe, Your Grace. Phoebe Danvers,” she nodded curtly.
“Miss Danvers, why are you not married?” he queried, curious as he walked to the fire place in a bid to busy himself, rather than indulge in the urge to stare at her.
She blinked, her lips parting and snapping shut more than once, as though she kept rethinking the words that were about to roll of her tongue.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but... is there perhaps something wrong with your vision?”
Edward chuckled at the strange question, turning back to face her. “Not that I know of.”
“Can you not see my scar?” she asked quietly.
Phoebe tilted her head to the right, giving him a good view of the scar on her right cheek. He could see it fine from where he stood, but he had not been so intrigued by someone in so long. He did not think it was such a serious thing either, and could not fathom why it was keeping her from getting married.
Edward approached her slowly, his steps careful and deliberate. Once he was only a feet away, he could smell her – the scent in the air sweet and spicy still, like a cinnamon tart. She piqued his curiosity greatly, and he couldn’t help but wonder who this woman truly was, determined to get to the root of her selfless core.
Because he had reduced the distance between them, the scar was more visible, but still, it did not seem so serious as to keep her from finding a good man to spend the rest of her life with. Edward shifted his gaze to hers, expecting to find it lowered, but pleasantly surprised to find her staring right at him.
Although she appeared calm and collected, a glance downward exposed her nervously clenching her hands into tight fists.
Edward nodded and took a step back. “I’m afraid that I do not see the reason why this would have cost you the chance to be wed and start a family of your own. Are you perhaps ashamed of the scar?”
“No,” she told him, her eyes blazing fiercely with an emotion he could not name. “I do not think it serves as a sign of shame, neither do I hold it against those who do. I have simply come to the understanding that there are somethings we cannot control, no matter how much we wish otherwise.”
“That sounds like a rather meek excuse for giving up,” he replied earnestly as he made his way back to her.
As he stood before her again, Edward felt pleased when she met his stare head on without, even more so when she replied,
“I do not think of it like that. To me, it was merely a nudge to shift my priorities elsewhere. If I cannot marry and have a family of my own, I should do everything in my power to care for the family I have now. My brother and sister… the ones I have known my whole life deserve much better than the cards they have been dealt. And if this is all I can do – serve as the bridge between them and a better life, then I will do it to the best of my ability, rather than dwell on the past.”
Her words were rather impressive, honestly. As was her face.
Because he had only intended to look at her scar earlier, Edward had not allowed himself to notice much else, but now, his eyes wandered without his permission. They stared at the long lashes that trembled as she held his gaze without hesitation, traveled down the slope of her small nose, rested upon her rosy red lips. The scar barely took away from her very apparent beauty, and he still could not fathom why no one else thought of that. Neither did he understand the strange sensation fluttering in his chest as her eyes glanced between his own.
“Remarkable,” he mumbled, unsure of why he had said so as he stood straighter.
He stepped to the side, then walked around her once, letting his eyes take in the rest of her form , before he came to a stop in front of her.
“All right. You have convinced me. I shall visit your home tomorrow with a proposal.” He informed her curtly.
“You will?” she asked, her expression betraying the first clear display of emotion –hope.
“I am a man of my word, Miss Danvers. A man is only as strong and as honourable as his word. I have nothing to gain by lying to you.”
