A/N:
Once again, I wasn't planning on updating this today, but I needed a pick-me-up which made me think that maybe someone else out there needs the same.
I don't want to assume that my story makes you feel good, but on the chance it does, and you needed it today, here you go, and I do hope you'll enjoy!
Title: The Duke & The Swan without Wings
Author: MarieCarro
Beta: Alice's White Rabbit
Pre-reader: Brierlynn03
Genre: Historical Fiction/Drama/Romance
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Edward Cullen, the Grand Duke and second son of the King, must find a bride. Isabella Sinclair, daughter of Countess Catherine and Duke Charles, was born out of wedlock and has neither titles nor land to her name. Could she be the bride Edward's looking for? But how is Isabella to marry a man of the royal family without a proper dowry?
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
{CHAPTER 7}
A couple hours into the day, Edward asked Laurent to find Isabella for him. He hadn't seen her since her audience with his father, and he was worried about what had been said behind the closed doors.
She had been invited to stay for a couple days so she wouldn't have to endure the journey between her home and his estate twice in one day, and he wished to speak with her before the evening's dinner.
When Laurent came back, he relayed he'd found Miss Sinclair in the gardens by the fountain—the very centerpiece of the grounds behind the estate—and Edward immediately made his way there, dodging both servants and his family to avoid being delayed in any way. It wasn't the easiest task since he was the head of the estate, but he managed by ducking into an alcove when his sisters passed in the corridor and was able to reach his gardens without too much fuss.
On one of the sculpted stone benches close to the fountain Isabella sat with her hands daintily resting in her lap, one of them clutching her fan. Her eyes were looking into the distance, but her mind appeared to be even further away.
"Miss Sinclair?" he asked softly, but she startled anyway and placed a hand over her fluttering heart.
"My lord, you gave me a fright!"
Edward bowed his head. "My apologies, Isabella. It wasn't my intention."
She instantly reacted to his use of her name and perused behind him for the trail of servants she expected. "You're alone?" she asked.
"I am," he confirmed.
A small smile played across her lips. "Isn't that terribly improper ..."—she hesitated for a moment before honoring his earlier request—"... Edward?" At the sound of his name in her voice, his own smile took over. "Spending time with me without a chaperone while not married? After today, I fear we might not even be betrothed." She looked away from him, but he still saw the glistening of tears in her eyes.
Slowly, he walked over and sat down on the bench next to her. "I assume my father wasn't all too willing to help us then?"
She shook her head. "No. Not considering who sired me and what he'd most likely demand if he ever found out your true identity." She squeezed her fan tightly with both hands, hoping it would help her keep her emotions under control. The duke had never made it a secret that all men despised emotional women, and if she dared to shed as much as one tear, he was never slow to loudly berate and humiliate her.
The last thing she wanted was for Edward to see her tears and have it confirmed why she wasn't the bride he wanted.
However, her heart almost stopped when he gently placed his hand over hers and made her soften the hold on her fan until he had one of her hands encased in his.
"It pains me to see you upset. You deserve happiness, and I want you to know I'm not giving up." She turned and watched him in surprise. "My father has said his piece, but he didn't end our betrothal. We still have a chance."
She opened her mouth, but it took a moment for her to find her voice after his revelation. "But why?" she asked, unable to articulate herself any better. "Why are you so adamant about having me for a wife? I have nothing."
He shook his head in disagreement at her statement. "On the contrary, Isabella. You have everything. You're poised and elegant, with the manners of a princess. Your beauty surpasses that of your kind heart, and even when they don't deserve it, you meet everyone with respect." Slowly, so as not to scare her with his proximity, he reached out with his hand to touch one of the locks of hair framing her face. It caused her to sigh softly, as if affectionate touches were a rarity in her life.
With a sinking heart, he realized that was most likely the truth of it, and he let his hand fall dejectedly. "Your material possessions mean very little to me. Look around. I have more wealth and lands than I know what to do with. What I need is someone to share it with. A mistress of this estate; a wife to shower with affection; a mother to my future children."
Isabella's mouth was hanging open with shock, spellbound by his heartfelt words. Had anyone told her a month ago that the Grand Duke of Spensley would say those words to her, she would have believed it to be a joke and cried at the cruelty of the jest.
Still unable to believe everything was true, she couldn't maintain eye contact with the handsome man before her for too long, and she directed her eyes toward the gravel under their feet. "If you only knew the longing you awaken in me with your words," she said. "How I wish there was a way to look past my illegitimacy."
With Isabella's words, Edward remembered the wonderment he and Carlisle had about the choice of burying Catherine in the Swanselm mausoleum, and why the bishop had allowed for such a thing. He had a thought which gave him hope, but he dared not give it too much life lest it was untrue.
Still, he had to ask Isabella if she knew anything. "Isabella, I was wondering something about the bishop serving the congregation in Elmstown."
"Father Jacob?" she inquired curiously. "What of him?"
"How long has he been the bishop of your church?"
"Long before I was born, but I can't give you an exact year. Why?" She didn't understand Edward's questions about the bishop. His Excellence didn't feel particularly relevant to their predicament.
"He held the sermon at your mother's funeral then, I assume?" Edward continued, now certain there was someone who knew the truth of the past.
Feeling a sudden boldness, Isabella placed a hand on Edward's shoulder and gently pushed to encourage him to look at her. "What exactly is it you want to ask me, Edward?"
He smiled, knowing she had figured out he was dancing around the real question. He appreciated she wanted to reach the point as it revealed to him how she wasn't afraid to speak up when she was comfortable and away from her kin. It gave him an insight to the woman she could become if she was just treated fairly.
"You told me at our first meeting that Lady Catherine is buried in your family's mausoleum. Such a practice is most uncommon when it pertains to non-family members," he explained. "Traditionally, as an unmarried woman, she should have been buried at Sunfield with her parents."
Edward could see that Isabella thought about it, but she didn't contribute with more information, so he continued.
"Father Jacob must know the truth. If he held the sermon and ministered the last rites, he knows where she should have been buried had she been unmarried, unless ..." he trailed off, and Isabella gave him a wide-eyed look.
"Unless?"
He swallowed and brought her hands to his mouth to place a kiss there. "I can't know for sure. It's just a thought I had. And with Lady Catherine and Lord James already betrothed once, the matter wouldn't have reached Father, and that would explain why nobody knows—"
He stopped talking in shock when he felt a soft hand lightly touch his face, and when he directed his gaze at Isabella, he saw that hers was filled with concern for him. It warmed him up from the depths of his soul to see her look upon him with such genuine care.
"Edward, you're digressing," she pointed out carefully. "Please, tell me your thoughts."
Still in awe of her touch, he placed his own hand over hers. He never wanted to lose the contact of her skin against his again. "I am, aren't I?" he said, and then chuckled. "Whenever I am around you, I can't seem to keep my head straight."
Her skin flushed with color in response to his compliment, but as lovely as the sight was, Edward focused back on what he had tried to say.
"What if Lady Catherine and Lord James knew her time was short? What if, to secure your future, they wed in secret to ensure you'd be born in wedlock?"
Isabella retracted her hand as if his cheek had burned her and looked away from him while vehemently shaking her head. "No. If that's what happened, why wouldn't Uncle James tell me before he died?"
Edward didn't like the absence of her hand in his, but he could also see she was feeling hurt, and he didn't want to make it worse by touching her against her will. "I don't know, but you said yourself he never stopped loving her after her death. That sounds more like a mourning husband to me than a scorned former betrothed."
"Your Royal Highness?"
At the sound of the servant's tenor, Isabella jumped and immediately moved away from Edward until there was an appropriate amount of air between them. Edward, however, recognized Laurent's voice.
"It's quite all right, Laurent. You need not use my title around Miss Sinclair. She's aware of my preference for informality." He smiled cheekily at her, and she reciprocated.
"Fine, then, sir. However, your family has noticed your absence, so I suggest you part ways before they find you here together, unchaperoned," Laurent said, and Edward nodded in agreement.
"Of course." He turned back to Isabella. "I will see you at dinner, my lady."
"I look forward to it, my lord."
While not the smile he had already come to love graced her lips, there was the same light in her dark eyes that accompanied it. It was enough for him to know he'd do anything for her, just to see that desired smile again.
A/N:
These two warm my heart!
So, thoughts? Do you think Edward's theories are valid? Or are you more on the cautious side like Isabella?
Other than that, how are your hearts? I do hope they're still within your chest cavities xD
As always, until next time,
Stay Awesome!