|
Scene #22
"How could I know that?" The captain couldn't, and
Edward couldn't argue that. Still, the delay had cost them catching
Cinder before she could make her escape. For that alone, Edward
wanted the guard to pay dearly. "Dear Goddess, Edward,"
his father exploded, striding through the door in a dressing gown,
no sign of lounging pants beneath. "What is this? A search of the
grounds? People rousted out of bed? Talk of you coated in blood?"
"It wasn't my blood," Edward countered, letting his
irritation show. Darren strode in, clothed much as
Edward was himself, soft lounging pants and nothing more. Elmstead
was at his heels, dressed in a warm sweater and trousers, being one
of the first woken and in charge of overseeing the search of the
grounds in Edward's stead. "I never thought blood play
was to your tastes," his father offered, seemingly bewildered at
the statement. Edward speared him with a quelling look.
"It's not." Darren howled in laughter, planting his hand
on the stone fireplace. He took a cup of coffee from the tray
headed for the table, still chuckling as he raised it for a sip.
Benjamin turned on his nephew. "And what is so amusing
about this?" Darren nodded to Edward. "Only he could go
to a Bride Ball teaming with willing wantons and find the only
unwilling virgin in the room." Edward felt his face
heat. "She was willing. By the Goddess, she was willing." Just the
memory of how willing she'd been had him semi-erect again.
"Then where is she, cousin?" Darren mocked him. He
shrugged. It was one of the things he wished he knew. Why did she
leave him before daybreak and without waking him? How did she
escape trained royal guards? Why did she— Well, he knew
why she ran from the guards. They'd likely frightened her to death.
His father took Edward by the shoulders, his expression
grim. "You had her then lost her?" "I had her, but I
think it more accurate to say that your guards lost her."
The captain sighed. "My first duty—" "Enough! I am
sick of that excuse." And, his head was aching; the captain's voice
grated at it. Edward considered dismissing him, just to silence the
fool. Then again, standing at attention for long periods of time
was damned uncomfortable; the captain deserved a little discomfort
in return for Edward's. "Do not speak to me again, unless I address
you directly. You should not acknowledge that order aloud."
Blessed silence met him, thank the Goddess. Benjamin
shot a look of surprise at Edward, a look that pointed out his son
was not acting at all like himself. "Would you recognize her?" he
questioned, releasing Edward's shoulders. Edward scowled
at him. "Since I'd intended to make her my wife, I should hope I
would." Reining in his sarcasm was poorly executed.
Elmstead cleared his throat. "If I may be so bold?"
"Be," Edward barked. "Since there was no 'Cinder,' on the guest
list, you can hardly do worse than I have." Darren
snickered into his coffee cup. "She used a false name? With you?"
"She... She didn't know who I was...precisely," he
admitted. His father stared at him, working his jaw as
if half-forming words. "I want a woman that wants *me,*
not my crown." "Your crown is part of who you are,"
Benjamin insisted. "My way. Remember?" His
father nodded his agreement, though he was clearly unhappy at
giving it. "Lord Elmstead," Edward called out, without
taking his eyes off of his father. He plucked a slice of bread with
jam off of an offered tray and bit into it, groaning at the burst
of flavor washing over his tongue. He hadn't realized how famished
he was. He took another bite, a larger one, narrowly restraining
himself from wolfing it down and grasping another.
"Yes," Elmstead managed. "While it is impossible to say for
certain, masks and all—" Edward turned to him. "You
know who she is? Why didn't you mention it earlier?"
"I..." He cleared his throat. "I hadn't realized there was some
question of who she was. I thought the aim was to catch her
before she fled the grounds. Admittedly, that did not go well.
Still, I believe I can clear up the question of her identity." He
looked toward Edward's chest. "In fact, if she is the lady I
believe she is, she made that." He glanced down in
confusion, his gaze settling on the slice of bread he'd been
savoring. "The bread? Is she a servant in your household? A baker's
daughter?" She certainly worked for a living, based on the rough
touch of her fingertips. And if she was hiding within the
manor...in servants' quarters that might have been overlooked, her
escape had been easily managed. It was enough to make him regret
punishing the captain. He glanced at the man in question. Almost
enough. "No. She is not my servant, and it was the jam
she made...not the bread, though her bread is... Not that it is of
importance." Elmstead shifted nervously. Edward stared
him down. "How do you know her, Elmstead?" "I met her
when I delivered the invitations." But, he wouldn't meet Edward's
eyes. "And? You delivered well over a hundred
invitations, not accounting for those delivered by your guards and
servants, of course. Why would you remember this one woman out of
hundreds?" Elmstead darkened. "I offered her a place as
my mistress. You see, when her grandmother—" "You
what?" Fury coursed through Edward at the thought of Cinder in
the hands of one who played the games as extensively as Elmstead
did. "I didn't touch her, if that's what—"
"Since she was virginal, I imagine whatever did happen—"
"She turned me down, altogether. I told her to keep me in mind for
when her grandmother passes. So...obviously, I kept her in mind,
for just such an occasion. How could I know you would take an
interest?"
| 
