Chapter 3

Edward stood on tiptoe, angling his face this way and that, trying to get the best view of himself in the mirror. His fingers fumbled at his tie; somehow, he was able to muddle the perfect arrangement his tailor had made of it. Apparently, twisting it this way and that was not helping, but then again, that was Edward's way of adjusting things. "Servants, you can't do anything right, can you?"

The tailor who stood behind him just rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling, but otherwise kept silent.

"I saw that," Edward said, smirking in the mirror.

"Ahem," the tailor coughed, to cover up his mistake. Luckily, another man interrupted then.

"Your car is ready, sir," the butler said, bowing. He straightened up. "And might I add, sir, you look absolutely dash—"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Edward. "I'm handsome and all that. I know." He preened himself one last time in the mirror. Leaning in, he ran his tongue over his teeth and then pulled himself up to his full height, his arm crossing his puffed-out chest. "I'm a handsome creature, I know," he said again, in tones of self-infatuated glee.

The tailor rolled his eyes again, this time taking care to turn away before he did.

"Well, off to see the girl I'm going to marry," he said, hopping off of his platform, straightening his sleeves, and strolling towards the door. Before he left, he turned around and addressed the tailor. "You do know that your pay is now deducted for showing such disrespect for me. Humph, rolling your eyes at me, indeed. Me, of all people…"

This time the tailor was stunned into silence, but this expression soon broke into a smile as he caught the eye of the butler and saw him rolling his eyes instead.

"Monty!" shouted Edward from outside, "I'm waiting."

Good luck, the tailor mouthed. The butler pointed discreetly towards Edward and drew a finger across his own neck in a cut-throat gesture. The tailor looked on sympathetically. Whoever Edward was proposing to, they both felt nothing but pity for her.

***

By the time Monty came outside, he found Edward conversing with his father, Mr. Vanderman.
"Now remember your promise, Father. If I marry the only heir to the Wilhern fortune, you hand over my share of the company as soon as possible."

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Vanderman wearily. He was already tiring of his son, but knew that this was the only way to make him do something with his life. The Wilherns, he had found out, were wealthy beyond his dreams. After all of the bad publicity they had gone through because of his son, they had lost a lot of money and he figured that this was the only way to save the company's image. As a motivator for marrying Penelope, Mr. Vanderman had promised Edward a share of the company (not to mention to save himself the headache of listening to Edward whine about why he was so unfairly mistreated all the time). Being connected to the Wilherns' vast fortune, of course, didn't hurt either.

"Off you go then," said Mr. Vanderman before Edward could say anything further. He hoped that Edward would soon find the girl and marry her before he thought of any more ways to ruin the family name.

"All right," said Edward, sounding excited and a bit starry-eyed as he climbed into the limousine. One could almost see that the schemes he was planning once he got the company share. Not that much thought left for more important things. Like where to find Penelope.

***

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?!" asked Edward, face twisted and flustered, his voice ringing out in shock.

"Well that's just it," said Franklin Wilhern. "As soon as she broke the curse, she decided to leave home and make it on her own."

"And that's it? She never calls? She never writes? No number? No address? No...no...nothing?!"

Mr. Wilhern shook his head. "She comes for a visit every once in a while, but that's all we ever see of her."

Penelope's mother, who was sitting beside her husband on the lush couch, bawled in silent tears. Trembling, she picked up a pad of paper in front of her and wrote a few words to Edward.

He read, "She should have married you anyway. Then we could know that our baby was taken care of and safe with you. Instead, she's out there all alone in the world facing God knows what."

"Thank you," said Edward, flattered. Then his face soured. "That still doesn't tell me where she is though."

Mr. Wilhern was comforting his exasperating wife. "She has friends, Jessica. She's not facing the world alone."

An idea dawned on Edward, which made him slightly giddy since ideas didn't dawn on him that often. "Her friends!"

Mr. and Mrs. Wilhern looked up at him, bewildered. Edward was almost jumping up and down. "Her friends. Surely you must know some of them. Maybe they could tell me where she is."

"Sadly, we don't have any information on how to contact her friends either. There was a blonde one…Annie, I think, but we only met her at the wedding. Never found out much about her," Mr. Wilhern said.

His wife shook her head disapprovingly. No woman should dress like that and drive around on those horrid motorbikes, she thought disdainfully. Then an idea occurred to her. A delicious idea. This one definitely would not fail. "I know one," she mouthed, then remembered that she couldn't speak. She quickly scribbled it down.

"Er, I don't understand," said Edward when he had read it. "Did you want some lemon with your tea? Because I'm not the butler you know."

Mr. Wilhern took the pad from Edward and then looked up at him after reading it. "Lemon," he said simply.

"Yes, I can read," Edward said, a little indignantly.

"Lemon," the other man repeated.

Then it dawned on him. Edward's face broke into the grin of an idiot who understood a joke long after everyone else had already finished laughing.

Mrs. Wilhern clapped her hands and pointed encouragingly at the pad. Mr. Wilhern only shook his head. Would his only daughter really be better off with this dimwit? He looked up, meaning to say something, but Edward had already gone.