Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(66)

“There is the grand duke’s property—for example, Somerset Hall—to take care of. He has to oversee the living conditions of his tenants, make sure that the taxes are collected, and he needs a mistress to supervise the servants in the manor.”

“Can’t someone else take over instead? Doesn’t Henry have any brothers or sisters who could do that for him?”

Elle shakes her head. “He is an only child, like His Highness. He has a few cousins, but they are too young to be seriously considered, not to mention that Henry is the perfect candidate.”

“How does Henry feel about this?” Poppy asks.

“He doesn’t want to inherit,” Elle says quietly. “Being a doctor is all he ever wanted. When Mamsie had cholera, he worked so hard to relieve her pain and oversee her recovery. I could tell he takes pride in his work. But the duchess told him that she had indulged him for far too long.”

That totally sucks. I haven’t personally experienced it myself, but I’ve known a few people in college who pursued a career that they didn’t really want but were doing it to fulfill their parents’ ambitions.

“The duchess should have considered Henry’s feelings on this matter,” I finally say. “Suppose he inherits the property and everything. He isn’t going to do a good job because his heart isn’t in it.” And if the duchess forces him to marry a girl who would be a perfect duchess, but someone Henry doesn’t love, he will be even more unhappy.

Elle twists her fingers on her dress. She always does that when she’s agitated. “I don’t know what to do, Kat. I can’t ask him to give up his duty to his family, nor can I become the ideal wife that the duchess has in mind.”

A tear leaks from her eye. Poppy quickly gets her a handkerchief, and I pat Elle on the back, wishing there were something I could do.

“She’ll come around,” I finally say. “You two deserve a happy ending.”

But my voice sounds hollow, flat. Perhaps it’s because I can’t figure out a way to help Henry and Elle. Or maybe because I’m also frustrated at my relationship with Edward. There’s a reason why happily-ever-after is never easy to achieve.





32





I spend almost every day at the palace library and at Edward’s office, trying to find any fact, any experiment, any data that would be useful for our argument for the Minimum Wage Act. I would have also helped with the Food and Drugs Act, but there are too many terms that I’m unfamiliar with, so I decide to leave it to Henry. Since I cannot search electronically, I do my best with index cards, and in several days I’ve managed to accumulate an entire notebook.

One morning, when I’m done with letter-writing, I sit down at the desk and pore over my notes.

“According to the survey done by the University a year ago,” I read, “for every year a schoolboy spends in school, he will practically gain five to ten percent of his future salary. This, of course, is a general finding. It should also be noted that the maximum is reached when the student graduates from university.”

“Interesting.” Edward’s voice, husky and deep, is alarmingly close. He leans over my shoulder, peering at my notebook. The warm breath he exhales warms my cheek and his hair brushes against my ear. Yet, he appears to take no notice of me, his attention fixed on my admittedly cramped, messy handwriting.

“When did you come in?” I try to sound annoyed, but my voice comes out breathless. Dang. I hate it when he uses his proximity to distract me.

“You were too focused on your work to notice my appearance,” he says, running a finger down a sentence.

“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“You forgot the tea break,” he says, sounding amused. He still hasn’t moved from his position behind me. Were it not for the chair, he could have embraced me.

I am going to seduce you, his voice echoes in my mind. I should evade him before Krev returns, yet I don’t feel like pulling away. I don’t feel like moving.

“How many days do we have?”

“Next Tuesday will be the last day of Parliament.” Edward finally gets up, and I wish he hadn’t. I admit I enjoyed the nearness of his body, and the thrill from his deep voice was sending dangerous signals to my brain.

He glances at the bookshelves, which are almost filled to the brim. “You know, Kat, if you want anything, you need only to ask. You are as much mistress of this household as I am master.”

My heart feels full, touched by his kindness and generosity. “I will. Thank you.”

I don’t know what happened to me—maybe I wanted to feel his body close to mine again—but I rise from my chair and lean against his chest. He sighs very gently, a slow, contented exhale, then his arms go around me, clasping my waist like a belt. His lips graze my neck, sending sparks running down my spine. Together, we look down at the gardens below. My mind is a blank slate, wiped clean of any thought but the desire to be wrapped in his embrace.

“Stay.” He doesn’t say it loudly, but the word is distinct. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

Say yes, my brain screams. You know that even if you get a chance to go home, you can’t forget him.

I bite my lip, but my mind is made up. Screw the goblins. I’m going to tell him . . .