A Scandal By Any Other Name-Chapter 122 - Hundred And Twenty Two

She reached into the compartment and picked up the rolled parchment.

She untied the simple piece of brown string holding it together and unrolled it slowly on the floor.

It was a beautiful watercolor painting of them both. Edward had a friend in the village who was an artist, and he had paid the man with his hard-earned wages to paint them in secret.

In the painting, the sun was shining brightly. Celine was sitting on a simple wooden swing hanging from a large oak tree. She was wearing a plain cotton dress, not the heavy silks her mother forced upon her. She was laughing, her head thrown back in pure joy.

And standing right behind her, pushing her on the swing, was Edward.

He was wearing his simple work clothes. His sleeves were rolled up, showing his strong arms. He was smiling down at her, his eyes filled with absolute, complete devotion. He looked so happy. He looked so incredibly alive.

Celine stared at the painted face of the man she loved. Her chest heaved with heavy, painful sobs.

She closed her eyes tightly. She brought the parchment up and hugged it tightly to her chest, holding it right over her broken heart.

The memory of that day washed over her. She could smell the fresh green grass. She could feel the warm sun on her face. And most of all, she could hear his voice.

She remembered standing with him behind the old stables, hidden from the world.

"When I have saved enough," Edward had said to her.

He had taken both of her soft, clean hands in his rough, calloused ones. He had looked at her with such determination and fierce love.

"I will take you far away from here," Edward had promised, his voice low and steady. "We will leave London and settle in a peaceful city, far away from your family. We will find a small house. We will not be rich, but we will be free."

He had reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear.

"I will give you all the love and peace a woman like you deserves," he had sworn to her.

The memory was so clear, so incredibly painful, that it physically hurt to breathe. He had promised her peace. He had promised to save her from the cold, unfeeling world of her family.

But he had not been able to save her. And she had not been able to save him. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Her father had found out. The secret meetings, the stolen kisses, the plans to run away—Lord Farrington had discovered it all. And a man of lower station who dared to touch an Earl’s daughter was not forgiven. He was erased.

Celine opened her tear-filled eyes. She looked at the dusty floor under her bed.

She whispered to the empty, shadowed space.

"I am sorry, Edward," Celine whispered. Her voice broke on his name, turning into a wretched, ragged sob. "I am so sorry."

She clutched the painting tighter against her dress.

"I was a coward," she cried softly. The tears dropped onto the parchment, blurring the edges of the watercolor paint. "When Papa found out... when he took you away... I didn’t stop him. I was too afraid. I couldn’t do anything for you."

The guilt ate at her soul every single day. She had hidden in her room while her father’s men had dealt with the stable boy who dared to love her. She had survived, and he had paid the ultimate price.

"I couldn’t even give you a befitting funeral," Celine whispered, her voice filled with deep, terrible shame.

She did not even know where his body rested. Her parents had used that fact as a weapon. She was denied the simple right to lay a flower on his grave. To the world, Edward had simply vanished. Only Celine remembered him. Only Celine mourned him and his family mourned.

She sat there on the floor and cried until there were no more tears left in her body. She cried until her eyes were swollen and red, and her throat was raw.

Finally, her sobs slowed into quiet, shaky breaths.

She knew she could not stay on the floor forever. Her mother would eventually send a maid to dress her for dinner. If the secret compartment was discovered, her parents would take away the only pieces of Edward she had left. They would burn the letters. They would destroy the painting.

Celine wiped her wet face with the back of her hands.

She carefully rolled the parchment back into a tight cylinder. She crawled back under the bed and placed it gently back into the dark hole. She took the stack of old letters, tied the faded blue ribbon around them securely, and laid them gently next to the painting.

She picked up the loose pieces of wood. She fit them perfectly back into the gap in the floorboards, pressing them down until the floor looked completely flat and normal again. She swept a little bit of dust over the cracks to hide her work.

Celine crawled out from under the bed.

She stood up slowly. Her legs felt weak and heavy. She smoothed her wrinkled dark blue traveling dress.

She walked across the pale pink bedroom. She walked straight toward the large, tall window that overlooked the back of the estate.

Celine stood in front of the glass. She looked down.

Below her window was the large, gray stone courtyard that connected the main house to the stables. It was empty now, save for a few stable boys carrying buckets of water in the fading afternoon light.

She stared at the stones.

She remembered how she used to stand at this exact window every morning. She used to wait patiently behind the silk curtains, just to catch a glimpse of Edward walking across that courtyard. He would always look up. He would see her standing there, and he would offer a small, secret smile that belonged only to her.

The courtyard looked incredibly empty without him.

Celine rested her forehead against the cold, smooth glass of the window. The chill of the glass felt good against her hot, tear-stained skin.

She closed her eyes.

"Sometimes," Celine whispered to the quiet room. Her breath fogged the glass directly in front of her lips.

She opened her eyes and looked down at the empty courtyard one last time.

"Sometimes, I wish I never knew you," she whispered, her voice carrying a profound, devastating sadness. "And I never loved you. At least you would be alive, walking down the courtyard, as I watch through the window."