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ELEGANT EDENIC-HAWKE WEDDING ENCHANTS GUESTS
June 29, 1890 — One of the most beautiful and fashionable weddings ever witnessed in our fair district was celebrated two o’clock in the afternoon yesterday at the Holy Trinity Chapel. Miss Catherine Hawke, a popular and accomplished young lady among high society, became the lovely bride of Mr. Joshua Edenic, the second son of Baron Edenic.
The church had been transformed into an ethereal wonderland, tastefully decorated with vibrant bouquets of seasonal blooms. The bridesmaids too were a vision of loveliness, arriving in elegant gowns of rose-colored silk.
At the appointed time, the bride entered the church leaning on the arm of her father, Mr. John Hawke. Miss Hawke was a living dream of beauty, clad in a delicate gown of white silk, trimmed with point lace and glittering hand-sewn crystals. Her veil was held in place with a beautiful diamond-studded tiara, and she carried a bouquet of blooming bride’s roses. The groom, carrying an exquisitely engraved cane by his side, entered the south side of the church and met the bride at the altar. The young couple then pledged their lives to each other in front of God and witnesses.
Lady Caroline Lennox, Duchess of Richmond and the bride’s sister, was matron of honor. The groom’s older brother and Baron Edenic’s heir, Oscar Edenic, was best man. Reverend Joseph Tadwick officiated the splendid union, and the young couple received blessings from their family and friends.
An elegant reception was given at the lovely garden of the bride’s parents at Hawke Manor immediately after the wedding, amidst the sweet scent of lavender and blossoming orchids. The happy couple departed to London afterwards, where they will make their new home.
Dear Mr. Edenic,
It is good to hear from you. London is the same as always, though there are some fresh faces making the rounds in the ballrooms and saloons. Miss Madeline Rolfe had made her debut recently, and was promptly taken under the wing of the indomitable Miss Whiston. Knowing Miss Whiston, I wouldn’t be surprised if Miss Rolfe soon discovers a lifelong passion for philanthropy.
On the topic of charity work, have you heard about the new wing of Dr. Bell's hospital? It is admirable of him to provide succor to those who would otherwise be left to suffer, and I am glad to see Wake support the good doctor’s endeavors. Ah, but I'm sure Mr. Edward told you all about it already; after all, he was the one who helped make it happen.
Regarding the matter you spoke of in your last letter, please do not blame yourself. For all intents and purposes they had been rather taken with each other, and it was only right that the two should wed. There was every reason to expedite the union, and the way you championed their cause does you credit, as you were motivated by love for your brother, and only wished to see him happy. Whatever happens thereafter is no fault of yours.
Besides, we might not be in possession of all the facts. If I may be so bold, your brother did not seem unhappy the last time I saw him a fortnight ago. Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Edenic had attended Sir Sebastian’s soiree together, and the pair seemed no less affectionate than when their engagement was announced back in February. Throughout the night I was able to see a slight smile or two on Mr. Joshua’s countenance; I must say, his face is well-suited for it.
As for your inquiry about Mr. Thomas Courtenay, he is indeed a well-known figure among high society belles in the city. He is a confident man in possession of a debonair air, and very generous to those whose company he enjoys—especially of late. Some might say that he is perhaps a little lacking in the appreciation of the fine arts, though he is an enthusiastic patron of dance and theater.
Speaking of, there is a new opera that I think you would rather enjoy. I understand the hunting season and its associated duties are upon you, but do let me know the next time you are in the city and find yourself with a moment to spare. Maybe we can attend a show, and you can let me know what you think of it.
And I hope I am not being impertinent, but perhaps a visit to Mr. Joshua would do you some good as well. All we have are rumors, and he might have a more informed perspective as her husband. And if not, he would appreciate your presence at a time like this.
Please let me know if I have overstepped my bounds. If so, I beg your pardon, and hope that you can forgive me.
Your friend always,
Laurence de Lafayette
P.S.
In addition to the opera, I had recently discovered a charming café that serves authentic Parisian cuisine. I would be delighted to inflict delicious morsels upon you, if you are willing.
Joshua was reading in the drawing room when the butler showed his caller in. He lifted his eyes from the page, and met those of his older brother’s. “Oscar.”
“Sorry for the sudden visit,” Oscar said, serious as always. “I was in the neighborhood.”
Joshua’s blank stare bored into him for another moment before finally dropping his gaze. He put his book down and gestured to the table in front of them, laden with a delicate teapot and an empty matching cup. “You’re just in time for tea.”
“Alright.” Oscar nodded, taking a seat across from his brother. Joshua called for a servant to fetch another cup and a creamer of milk as they waited for the tea to finish steeping.
The footman arrived with the items just as the tea was ready. With everything laid out, Joshua dismissed the boy, and went about serving the two of them himself. Without any overt acknowledgement of Oscar, he added a dash of milk into one of the cups and poured tea over it; its rich aroma rose with the stream, and he slid the cup towards his older brother.
“Thank you.” Oscar took a sip. The tea was pleasant, its bold taste strong without being overwhelming. Exactly the way he liked it.
But of course, they had taken tea together their whole life. It was no surprise that Joshua knew how he liked his, just as Oscar knew the preferences of his younger brothers.
Still, he hadn’t really come all the way just to drink tea with his brother. “How are you lately, Joshua? Is everything well?”
Joshua, about to pour tea into his own cup, had stilled at the question. “What brought this on?”
Oscar bit back a sigh. “I’m just concerned about you. After all, the life of a bachelor is bound to be different from that of a wedded man. It must have been quite the adjustment.” he said, looking around the impeccably furnished sitting room. “Speaking of which, I don’t think I see the lady of the house. Is she away?”
“Yes.” There was no inflection in Joshua’s words. “But you know that already.”
Oscar winced at the remark; fortunately Joshua’s attention had returned to the teapot, and the moment passed without further comment from either brother.
“Catherine is off visiting Mr. Thomas Courtenay, an investor of the Hawke Sanatorium.” Joshua continued after a momentary pause, having finished pouring for himself.
“I see.” Oscar lifted his cup for another sip in the hopes of hiding his grimace. Thomas Courtenay had always been rather popular among the ladies of high society for his dashing good looks and roguish charm, according to de Lafayette, and the man had recently come into a considerable inheritance.
It seemed like the rumors he heard about his sister-in-law were not so baseless after all. “And does she make a habit of meeting with… investors… unchaperoned?”
Joshua busied himself with adding a lump of sugar to his beverage, silent but for the soft rhythmic clinks of the teaspoon against fine china as he stirred.
Oscar could scarcely believe the sight in front of him. Joshua had never added anything to his tea back in Ashgrove. Or rather, he might’ve done, once upon a time—but not since when Jeremy had still been a baby. “… Joshua?”
Joshua glanced up. “I’m not concerned about it.” he said simply, and Oscar could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.
He resisted the urge to rub his temples. “Of course. I’m not saying there’s anything to be concerned about.”
Indeed, had Joshua been a more straightforward fellow growing up, Oscar would have no trouble taking him at his word.
But Joshua had been cold and reserved since the… incident, and Oscar couldn’t help but fret over him. “Still, isn’t this arrangement rather irregular?” He pressed on. “It is quite unusual for a recently wedded lady to not be in the company of her husband when she calls on another gentleman, is it not?”
“How so? It's been three months, and who she sees in her own time is no business of mine.” Joshua said mildly, as if he was commenting on the weather instead of his wife’s conduct. “Besides, I have no wish to interrupt them.”
Ah. Oscar closed his eyes. So not only were those unsavory rumors true, but his brother knew of his wife’s infidelity as well. Is this what marriage entails, the infliction of mutual misery upon two people chained to each other, until everything good is shattered beyond repair? Was Joshua doomed to follow in their parents’ footsteps?
(Fruit of a poisonous tree never falls far, and is just as deadly. Consume it, and suffer prolonged agony until death comes at last; bury it, and it will taint the land until everything in the vicinity withers away.
Perhaps it was absurd to think that any of them were capable of attaining lasting happiness in the first place.)
“There’s no need to look so pained, Oscar.” Joshua continued, a thread of consolation lacing his serene tone.
But how could he not? He had been the one who petitioned father to go ahead with the marriage, believing Joshua and Catherine Hawke were deeply in love. He had hoped for an affectionate union between them and strove to grant his younger brother what he himself was unlikely to ever have—only to find out after the fact that she had planned on making a cuckold of Joshua the entire time.
If he had been more attentive, if he had just given the matter more thought, instead of being blinded by his relief that Joshua had shown a modicum of interest in something after all these years—
“I’ve shackled you to an unfaithful woman.” He pressed the heel of his palms to his eyes with a long sigh. “I’ve failed you.”
Joshua merely cradled his cup between his palms without much expression. “How dramatic, Oscar. It’s rather unlike you.”
“Joshua, please.” Oscar raised his head, a stricken expression on his face. “Are you not troubled at all?”
“I truly am not.” Joshua replied. “In some ways, it’s a relief.”
What in the Lord’s name was Joshua saying? “What do you mean?”
Joshua leaned back on his chair, sipping at his tea leisurely amidst Oscar’s rising impatience for an explanation. Only after the cup was empty did he continue the conversation. “Catherine and I have each gotten what we wanted from the union. We have an understanding, and we intend to abide by it.”
“An ‘understanding’ does not a happy family make!” Oscar threw his arms out, unable to rein in the outburst. This arrangement will ruin them both, as well as any children they may have in the future. Why couldn’t he see that? “Joshua, be reasonable—”
“You’ll find that I am perfectly reasonable.” Joshua’s eyes were calm, the way they often were back at Ashgrove, but no longer quite so distant as they had been. “I am not unhappy, and neither is she. She has someone who would not interfere with her liberty and autonomy. And as for me…” He gestured at their surroundings with one hand. “Here I have my own stable and horses to occupy my time, the means to maintain a way of life that suits me, and a semblance of independence.” Both brothers pretended that Oscar did not flinch at that. “I do not lack for the company of family and friends either.”
“But—” Oscar floundered for words to express his bewilderment at Joshua’s blasé attitude towards the situation. “You could’ve had all that with a faithful woman who you truly love by your side!”
A corner of Joshua’s lips quirked up briefly, as if amused by some private joke. “Oscar, I truly am content with my life as it is right now.” he said, almost kindly. “And even if my happiness takes a different form from the conventional standards by which men judge these things…” He looked his older brother straight in the eye, “It’s not any less real.”
Oscar blinked. Although he had often wished his younger brother would voice his opinions for years now, it was difficult to imagine taciturn Joshua making direct declarations of happiness, or to hear him defend the improper circumstances that gave rise to such contentment so plainly—just like it had been hard to see him take his tea with sugar.
“You’ve changed.” He ventured tentatively, after a moment's consideration.
The faint smile on Joshua's lips took on a wry bent. As smiles went, it was a more familiar sight than the genuine expression on his face mere moments ago, loath as Oscar was to admit it. “Have I really?”
“… Perhaps I just don’t understand you anymore.” Oscar sighed, suddenly seized by melancholy.
The truth of the matter was that he hadn’t understood Joshua for over a decade now. It hurt to admit that his quiet younger brother had grown up into a mystery—one that he might never be able to solve.
“That’s alright.” Joshua said, slow and placid like a still lake in winter. “I don’t need you to understand me.”
Maybe so, but it still stung. “Joshua…”
“But thank you for trying, nonetheless.” He continued, gaze flicking down to the mostly untouched cup in front of his older brother. “Would you like another cup after this?”
“Of course.” Oscar raised the cup to his lips, downing its contents reflexively; the tea was fast approaching lukewarm, but the cup after that would be warm.
For now, that was enough.