most ardently ➳ edward midford

♡⠀/⠀un.

The first time you had met Lord Midford — he was, although not literally, in flames. With cheeks fiery and rosy as the red roses that bloomed amongst the bushes of your garden at your mansion, you worried whether if he had gotten himself sick from an illness that plagued the moist summery air. You had asked him if he was alright, a frown making its way on your pink lips, and Edward gulped at the sight of you staring at him with such concern across your features, eyebrows furrowed and eyes doubtful.

"F-Fine," he choked out. "Fine..! I'm fine, was what I meant..."

Your face twisted in a look of both confusion and unease.

"It's just this scorching heat," Edward continues, "It is getting awfully unbearable for me to handle."

And while Edward would have unbuttoned his shirt to prove his point, he stops himself midway upon coming to a realisation that this is not how you should present yourself to a woman — your fiancee, no less! His hands drop to his lap and he looks back at you, your expressions still tense and troubled, and he curses at himself for acting so awkwardly. 

( He can't help it — you were just so divinely beautiful and ethereal; Edward can hardly believe that you were his fiancee. He doesn't deserve you, he doesn't! He can't even act like a proper man for you! )

"English summers do get exceedingly hot, don't they?" You, much to Edward's great relief, managed to form a smile on your lips as you offered those words to him. The concern in you hasn't disappeared completely, but you had a feeling that it would be best to not pry into Edward's complication — and, despite your willingness to help him, you had decided to leave him be. "Would you like me to fetch us some cold water? My throat is getting a bit dry..."

"No!"

You blinked, surprised, and once again, perplexed. "No...?"

"I meant—" This was getting hard for Edward. Why can't he bring himself to talk normally towards you? He was trying his best, he really was, but he doesn't know how long he can last without breaking apart. "—I can get it for us...!"

"That won't be nece—"

"I insist!" he cried out. "Please."

You stared at him incredulously for a long moment, [eye colour] eyes searching him from head to toe, and Edward swears that his heart nearly jumps out of his rib cage out of fear. You weren't being threatening — far from that, actually — but the look in your eyes gives Edward the impression that you were starting to dislike him, and that's what he fears the most.

Both of your parents had, as tradition had implemented on the society, planned an arranged marriage between the both of you, hoping to bring new prosperity into the family. That wasn't strange news however; it was custom, after all, and so both you and Edward hadn't minded. But Edward has never seen you — not even from a picture or a portrait. With his duties in Weston College, Edward can't fit in the right time to see you, and the most interaction he had gotten from you were through writing letters. That was, of course, until now.

Now that he has finally — finally — met you, his muscles refuse to work properly and his mind stubbornly rejects the process of forming (coherent) speeches. With you in front of him, his body remains still and frozen and his words stuttered every now and then; an embarrassment on Edward's part.

( Maybe he was right. He doesn't deserve someone like you. )

"Edward." He flinches at your tone, and notices that you'd used his first name rather than your formal 'Lord Midford'. "If you think there is something wrong... something wrong with me, then I demand that you tell me because I don't think I can bare the knowledge of being a burden to you..."

"A burden...?" he repeats, unblinking. "Darling, that is the least—"

"Then what is wrong?" You cut off, standing on your feet. "I cannot keep guessing for you, Edward! I so very much would like to help you if there is a problem, but I won't know how if you won't tell me what is bothering you so much!"

Silence creeps into the room.

If Frances were here to witness this, she would have slapped Edward back to his senses. But Frances isn't here, and there is only the two of you — the only one who could bring Edward back to reality was himself, and he does exactly that by biting the bottom of his lip, hard enough to snap back into his very own awareness. He takes your hand in his, urging you to sit down and hesitantly, you do. His hand never left yours.

"You are beautiful and all things saintly," he starts off, and though you're not sure where he's exactly going with his compliments, you quietly urge him to continue with soft eyes looking over to his, "And I cannot help but be... jittery around you, [Name]. I know well that this isn't how a man should act towards his betrothed... and I think myself to be... worthless to you."

"Edward." You call his name again, your palms resting on each sides of his cheeks, his face mere inches with yours. "If I thought you to be worthless to me, I would have said so! But you aren't. You aren't worthless in the least bit, and I adore you immensely, Edward; do know that. I love you most ardently — and I will love you like no other woman has. Do you understand?"

He slowly places a hand on yours on his cheek, and he feels tears dreading to break — they are tears of happiness.

"I love you too, [Name]."

Note: wow... 900+ words just for a drabble??? what the Hell. anyways... i love edward midford and i was so saddened by the fact that there weren't many fics for him so i decided to take the reigns myself and write my own, even if it wasn't the best LOL. also, the title, "most ardently," is a quote coined from a movie by joe wright "pride & prejudice" (2005), a reenactment of jane austen's book of the same name — "I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand." spoken by no other than our mr. darcy! i'm sure there's a scene of it somewhere, just look it up lol

your comments encourage me to write more so tell me what you think, what i should work on, or any general feedback in the comments! ♡