Far away, on the horizon, moors were rolling past in great haste as sun just started to peek out from behind the trimmed up greeneries.
The hills were green, as green as a summer morning could make them and the sky was English blue, cloudless.
Lord Adelwood’s stallion sped past the damp road, it sturdy body beautifully glistening as it dashed and glided, muscle over muscle, bones over bone. It’s mane, like marshes blowing in the wind, flew back as it’s sure hooves stamped on the unsure, uneven muddy road.
Today, this raven creature was flying.
Lord Stephen Adelwood bent lower as he prompted his mount at its sharpest, swiftest speed. His green eyes were squinted in focus, his jaw clenched in anticipation, his lips set in grim line. Rest of his face was pale, too pale and contrasted by the redness that tainted the underside of his both eyes.
He had not slept all night. Had not even closed his eyes shut.
He had left Ashleyton with the first cry of the cock, heading north from Hertfordshire.
An hour long ride.
His father’s place. Wilthill castle.
Now that the parliament had been discharged, his father had arrived here back from London, for his summer stay. Not that he was going to see his father. He would never have troubled his father with such an early morning visit. He was doing it for himself. For his own sake.
To instill some order in his world-gone-wrong.
He wanted to know who she was. Who Eden was?
After all that happened the previous evening, he was bewildered. He was injured. He was incredulous. Confused.
He still remembered, when he had been informed by his footman that the old haggard had afflicted his niece_ Eden, he had felt seizures of fire and disdain coursing his vain.
When he had barged into his parlor, his first objective was to secure Eden away and throw the man out of existence.
And yet, the first thing he had observed was how pale she looked. How hurt, how damaged she was. Her one cheek was burning red, the other one was wet of what were tears he supposed. And there was that gash on her lips, from where blood was oozing out. Her hurt mouth, he could still recollect the details.
She had looked so lovable to him then. So kissable.
But at last, there was the word.
Illegitimate.
In that moment, Lord Adelwood had realized actually that how little he knew his wife.
Soon enough, the ambiance around him all changed, hills got flattened into oak plantations and there went that lake then, which marked the threshold of Wilthill Castle, his father’s residence.
By the time he was riding into the wide driveway of the magnificent villa, sun was out high, into the sky, glistening randomly all over the windows of the architecture.
He dismounted himself off and handed the reins to the astounded stable boy.
An unannounced appearance of the Master’s son though being welcome visit, was also an astonishing and even alarming occurrence.
He entered the doorway with a breathless bewilderment, putting off his hat and gloves, handing it to the hailing butler without even a glance at him.
“Father...” he breathed out, his search-full, tired green eyes roaming the interiors of the hall. “I would wish to see father. Where is he?”
“Dear Lord Adelwood, your father is right down breakfasting, in the backyard.” The butler informed industriously. “Pardon me, but is something the matter, Lord Stephen?”
“No...” Lord Adelwood shook his head absent-mindedly, already heading to the back verandah. “No, Anton. All is well.”
His brisk steps took him down the corridor to where he had seen his father break his fast since his childhood. Truly enough, his old father sat on his reed chair into the garden, sipping his tea and reading the dull piece of the gazette with all attention.
He didn’t stop until he was one hand away from his father but it was not the expanse that had made him to stop. It was the heaviness that he felt at his chest.
With restricted breath, he called out. “Father.”
The old lord looked up from his article, quite with a start. “My! Stephen. My boy. Is it a reverie or are you truly here. Did they put something in my tea?”
Stephen chuckled slightly at that, though the amusement never went far enough to reach his eyes. He moved closer to his father, sat down near him, on another chair.
“You just met me in London two weeks ago, Lord Adelwood.” Stephen remarked. “And you are putting on the way you did when you returned from India after two years.”
“Oh you won’t understand what a father feels when his unavailable son suddenly shows up. You are not a father yet.” Lord Adelwood explained placing his gazette down on the table. “And….oh! Are you unwell, son. Look at yourself, you look so grisly.”
“No. No, father, I am fine.” Stephen sighed. He was certainly not well but there was no way how he could explain to his father all that he felt right now. “I didn’t sleep well the other night.”
“How repugnant!” Lord Adelwood reached for the bell with his shaky fingers. “Let me get some tea for you, or no! An infusion will do you well.”
“Father, please. Let it be. I am not here for tea.”
Lord Adelwood’s suddenly paused. “Is something wrong Stephen?”
The cold snake along his heart let out a cold Hiss. It’s eyes darkened, coldly. It clenched its loop harder, around his heart.
“Father…” His demeanor suddenly darkened, his jaw got clenched. He swallowed. “Who is Eden?”
Lord Adelwood the senior regarded his face for a moment, his similar green eyes gauging Stephen’s face with frigid energy. “She is your wife.”
“No, Father. Let me rephrase. Who is Eden Henley, apart from being my wife and…..an illegitimate?”
For a moment, his father looked horrified. “Who told you this?”
“She did.”
“Well, you know enough then.” Lord Adelwood picked up his paper from the table.
“I wish to know more, father. It’s been too hard.”
“And you are only making it harder, Stephen. Her past……” Lord Adelwood glanced at him sternly. “…will only make you more distressed. You are supposed to build up your future with her and not to dig down her past.”
“For one, father, there is no future of me with her.” Stephen affronted, suddenly as an angry feeling lashed him over. “And secondly, since you are the one to have arranged this match, you will tell me all that I rightfully should know_ about my wife.”
“I did it for your own best.” Lord Adelwood whispered soberly.
“You might have, father but you never know.” He felt sorry for his father but there was a palpable truth sitting between them both and that could not be altered.
He could never accept Eden as his wife.
“Fine, son.” Lord Adelwood resigned, his heavy shoulders drooping. “I will not let you down if that is your wish.”
“Tell me.” Stephen asked. “Who is Eden?”
***
“Damn, it’s too cold.” Maggie whined. “I am too cold.”
“If you will stay still!” Eden scolded, pouring another jug of water over Maggie’s wet, foam laden hair.
She was washing Maggie’s hair which was an extremely troublesome task considering the sink that was too small and Maggie’s curls that were too many and too dense.
Carol brought in a jug of steaming water and added it into the bucket of the cold water.
“Tell me if this much warm will do.” Eden said before downing the next jug and rinsing her hair.
“Oh, ouch! Its too hot.” Maggie cried, wriggling. “Eden, it’s too hot.”
It took them long to do with her hair. Maggie’s consistent whimpering quietened only when they were over with the washing and Eden had draped a towel, knotting her golden curls right atop her head.
“How old are you Maggie? Five?” Eden patted on her cheeks that were red and flustered.
“Oh, I hate bathing.” Maggie huffed.
“Yes, thank you for pointing that out.” Eden waited for carol to leave the room with the jugs and canisters. “And where were you last night when I returned? You were not here in the room.”
Maggie’s cheeks reddened some more. “Oh...I was in the kitchen. I was…I was thirsty.”
“There is always a jug in our room.”
“I didn’t notice.” Maggie shrugged, biting her lips. “And by the way, what did he say?”
“Who?” Eden pretended not to understand.
“Mr. Andreas Edwin….Eden.” It was a compelling, teasing whisper. “What did he want? From you?”
“Nothing significant.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He thought_”
“Yes Eden?”
“He had a misconception that I…I was avoiding him.”
Maggie suddenly clapped making Eden jump in surprise. “Pack your bags Eden. You are going to be his wife.”
Eden smacked her hand on Maggie’s mouth in utter bewilderment. “Will you keep your voice down. If someone hears….What the rubbish are you saying?”
“Oh but he is so besotted to you, is he not?” Maggie squealed against Eden’s palm.
Her palm loosened. “Don’t say that, Maggie.”
“Why?” Maggie frowned.
“It will make me want it.” Eden sighed.
“What’s wrong with wanting?”
“Wanting and voracity have traits in common.” Eden answered. “When you start wanting too much, when your hunger turns way too insatiable_ you become greedy, you die famished.”
It took Maggie some moments to consider that. “So you mean, that if you start..um…liking Mr. Edwin…”
“I might end up losing him, end up losing what I never had.” Eden shrugged sadly. “I might end up losing myself and so much more.”
“You give me church like feel.” Maggie mumbled.
Eden smiled.
“Let’s go, Maggie, Eden.” Carol barged into the room, announcing. “Guests are to be served tea.”
***
Eden was a noble blood_ but born out of wedlock.
Her father was Lord Wharton David. Her mother_ Lady Nancy Whitney.
And it went as it often did.
Fatal attraction, leading to a passionate night spent together. Their youth made them reckless of the consequences. They gave themselves to each other without realizing what shall be taken in return.
And the inevitable happened.
Lady Whitney was found to be carrying a life within_ an unaccountable life, which was.
She could not be married to Lord Wharton for she was engaged elsewhere. She was sent to confines for her gestation and also to unseason the scandal. To stash and stow it away.
When the child was born, a girl it was, Lord Wharton agreed to take it upon himself, the raising of the child. He took Eden with him. Away.
Far from London, to Newcastle.
For ten years, she was raised there, not as his Lordship’s daughter but as the housekeeper’s child. Lord Wharton’s wife didn’t know it. No one knew it.
Ten years too late, however, Lord Wharton’s family was suddenly made to leave England and move to India. There was no excuse on which his Lordship could take Eden with him.
He left her under the shadow of the housekeeper.
In India, Lord Wharton met Lord Henry Adelwood. They became dear friends.
Unfortunate as it was, Plague found Lord Wharton, all the way to India, so severely that death became his last obvious remedy.
On his deathbed, Lord Wharton confided his biggest secret into no one but Lord Adelwood. He asked his friend to look after the dear girl. To groom her into a lady and find her the best man for a husband.
Also, trust bounded, Lord Wharton left twenty five percent of his property and one cottage in Yorkshire to Lord Adelwood which was supposed to be inherited by Eden, at the right time.
“so…” Stephen whispered, his green eyes full of sad curiosity. “You returned to England?”
“No. Politics kept me bound to India. When I returned from there six years after this, I tried to inquire after Eden and was most adversely informed that the girl was abducted by the former butler of Wharton just when he had left. No one had tried to restore her. The man is no other than whom she calls her uncle.” Lord Adelwood huffed a breath. “I kept searching and found her only recently. She was woman enough and in great sufferance.”
A pet pegion took flight, nearby.
"I had a duty. I had her hierarchy with me. I had her responsibility."
“And?” Stephen inquired, gravely. “What did you do father?”
Lord Adelwood regarded the pale face and red rimmed eyes of his son for a moment.
“I found her the best man for a husband.”
_________________________________________
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Love❤.