A/N:
Y'all hate Grandma Swan now, don't ya? xD
Understandable, and believe me, her reasons for the ball and all of that will be clearer as we go forward, but before that, let's visit Edward!
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 17}
Edward uneasily paced the width of his private audience hall—the same room in which Isabella had petitioned his father to permit their betrothal—as he waited for word from Laurent. When the older man appeared, he stopped and stared at him with hope.
"Well?"
"I'm sorry, sir. Nothing."
"Something's amiss, Laurent," Edward said and resumed his pacing. "I can feel it. She's never been this late with responding to my letter before."
"Do you fear she's been caught by the duke?"
"I fear everything."
Laurent observed the prince, whom he had watched grow up and often thought of as his own flesh and blood. "Sir, don't you think it's time to show your father what you found out ab—"
"There's nothing he can do with the knowledge. It wouldn't make a difference. His hands are tied," Edward insisted with clear frustration. "The Sinclairs' were well in their right to place those stipulations on their property, and without explicit proof that Isabella was born within wedlock, there's nothing he can change."
A tense silence settled, and Edward stopped in front of one of the tall windows, staring at the tree line far away in the distance, and let out a painful sigh.
"Sir?"
"What if she's been harmed?" he mused quietly, scared to say it any louder and make his words a reality. "I don't see any other reason for her silence. But the duke's servants who helped us—Renée and Philip—why aren't they reaching out to me if something's happened to her?"
"Sir, I—"
"The duke is a ruthless man. I have no idea what he's truly capable of."
"Sir—"
"I need to know, Laurent. I should ride there." He turned around with determination. "I don't even care if I reveal myself. If Isabella's been hurt, I can't just—"
"Sir, please, listen to me," Laurent said and stepped into Edward's path. In astonishment, Edward froze and finally took in his most loyal manservant's expression. Laurent's eyes were alight with a new idea. "Revealing yourself now would be a mistake. However, if you were to inquire of the bishop of the Elmstown congregation for an opportunity to speak with him here, he would have no choice but to comply. I'm certain he would reveal more to you than he did to Miss Sinclair."
Edward nodded in agreement. "True as that may be, I need to know Isabella is well first."
"Then I'll ride in your place, sir. I doubt the duke would know who I am."
"Thank you, Laurent."
{TDTS}
Isabella had given up.
She had no more tears of despair to cry as they had all dried up. Tears didn't do her any good in her current predicament unless they somehow, if collected in a cup, could unlock her door.
She had referred to Swanselm Castle as a prison ever since she was forced back there by the King, but now, for the first time in her life, she had truly been imprisoned and lost the little freedom she had.
While the dowager duchess had allowed her to move about the estate as usual, albeit under her constant gaze to make certain she didn't attempt to write to Edward, the instant the duke returned home, and he found out she had been matched into a marriage with a merchant, he had made the decision to lock her in her room.
No one was allowed inside, and her food was brought in by the dowager duchess herself. She wasn't permitted any writing tools, and every letter going in and out of Swanselm was to be approved by the duke or the dowager duchess immediately.
The sole part of her ill luck that remained in her favor was that the dowager duchess had not told the duke with whom she had secretly corresponded because she didn't know the full truth. All she had said to the duke was that Isabella wasn't in agreement with the match, and they needed to keep an eye on her lest she tried to run.
A faint knock came from the other side of the door, and Isabella replied with her own quiet knock. It was the only connection she still had with Renée, and while it, as her tears, did nothing to help her with her situation, it made her feel less dejected.
"Isabella?" Renée whispered, and it barely reached her hearing. "Please, Isabella, do not lose hope. His Royal Highness will help you somehow."
She didn't believe so. He had no way of knowing what had transpired, so how would he possibly be able to help? And even so, what could he do? If he wanted to stop the wedding, he needed a lawful reason besides the truth of his feelings for her.
Through her open window, she heard the sound of hooves on the gravel, and as she knew every member of her so-called family was already home, her curiosity made her rise up from the floor to see who the newcomer was. Most likely, it would be the courier or perhaps Mr Ashbrook since he now had an invested interest to look after at Swanselm, but the last one Isabella had expected to see was Edward's manservant Laurent.
Why was he there? Had Edward, in some miraculous way, heard the news of her betrothal and had sent Laurent to get her? Whatever the reason, she had to speak with him.
As he dismounted the horse and his feet hit the ground, Isabella tapped on the glass of her window but to no avail as she was too far up, and he couldn't hear her. She saw him steering his path toward the entrance, and she hurried back to her own door, hoping Renée was still there.
"Renée?"
"Yes, Isabella. I'm here, sweet girl."
She breathed out a sigh of relief. "The man who is knocking on the door is His Royal Highness's manservant. You must speak with him and let him know what has happened to me."
"Can he be trusted?"
"Yes. His Royal Highness trusts him, so I do as well. Please, speak with him."
"Of course. Do not worry. We shall get you out of there."
"Please, find him now." The sound of fading footsteps was the last thing she heard before she walked to the window and sat on the bench below it to look outside.
{TDTS}
"I can assure you, Your Royal Highness, my horses only have the purest pedigree. This colt has a strong back and straight legs. Perfectly balanced at the hip."
"He's beautiful," Edward agreed and gestured for his stable servant to trot the horse around them so he could see its movements.
"Once trained properly, he will be a fair companion, and in his older days, a most sought-after breeding stallion," the gentleman marketer continued. "Who, may I ask, is he intended for?"
"My future wife, sir." Edward smiled as he imagined presenting Isabella with a horse that was hers only. He knew she liked riding, but all of the horses at Swanselm were the duke's, so he hoped to give the horse to her, fully trained, as a wedding gift despite the issue of not knowing when that would be. He was still perfectly certain it would come to pass in the not too distant future.
"How lovely, Your Royal Highness. Will the wedding take place shortly?"
Edward knew he had to tread lightly. The marketer was neither in the noble class nor the gentry, but it could yet be a mistake to spread the word around of a coming royal wedding.
"I'm not betrothed yet, sir," Edward said to mislead the man. "But I hope to change that very soon."
In the distance, Edward heard a horse galloping at a remarkable speed and could only assume the rider was in a hurry. When he then recognized the equipage as his own horse carrying Laurent, his heart started rushing in time with the galloping hooves.
"Thank you so much, sir. I'll take the colt. My servant will prepare the papers with you," Edward said and urged the man to follow his servant so he could greet Laurent alone.
"Your Royal Highness!" Laurent exclaimed, still aware of the presence of strangers in spite of his hasty state. He reined in the horse and jumped off it, immediately surrendering the control to another servant. "Your Royal Highness," he said again, somewhat out of breath. "I have news from Swanselm."
"What is it?" Edward asked, his heart in his throat.
"Your last letter, sir, was found by the dowager duchess. She has promised Miss Sinclair to a wine merchant, and Miss Sinclair has been locked in her room. They won't let her out until the wedding."
Edward's vision became obscured as hate for the Swan family filled him up, and he immediately turned on his heel to head into the stables. He no longer felt he needed to remain in the shadows for the dowager duchess, at the very least, now knew he and Isabella had corresponded, and she reacted by rushing a wedding between her youngest granddaughter and a commoner.
It was all the confirmation Edward needed to understand the motivation was power, income, and land.
"When is the wedding?" he asked, and then ordered the same servant as before to ready a horse for him.
"They've read the banns during two Sunday services. The last one will be read this Sunday, and then they're free to hold the wedding on any day." Laurent easily kept pace with Edward, and he didn't even have to ask what Edward would do now. It was clear the Grand Duke would make a personal visit at Swanselm Castle. "Sir, I have another thing to tell you."
Edward put his foot in the stirrup and sat up on the horse. He wasn't wearing proper riding attire, but he didn't have the time to tarry. He had to get Isabella away from there as soon as possible. "What, Laurent?"
"I rode into Elmstown, and I spoke with Father Jacob. He was naturally bewildered with the request I gave him on your behalf, but he's willing to travel here as soon as he's available. I didn't tell him it was about Miss Sinclair."
"Great work, Laurent. If you'll excuse me, the woman I love needs me." He pressed his heels into the horse's sides and rode hard toward Swanselm.
A/N:
And he's off!
Tell me all of your thoughts because I thirst for them and they nourish me as I continue writing this xx
Until next time,
Stay Awesome!