CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Evangeline Sinclair despised embroidery, but she engaged in the necessary evil to pacify her mother and to give the illusion that she did possess a few womanly skills. Her mother Margaret sat across from her in the drawing room, sewing violet lace to a corset, while Aunt Amelia studied a sketch of a new design.
It was such a paradox to see her impossibly proper mother adorning undergarments more befitting a courtesan than a lady. But then, it was the reason for her family’s wealth, so Evangeline could hardly complain. She let out a sigh and glanced over at the hearth where Annabelle slept beside her puppies.
“You have a caller, Miss Sinclair,” the footman announced to Evangeline. “Lord Penford is here to see you.”
“Now why would he be here?” her mother wondered aloud. “I thought the two of you had parted ways.” Margaret stared hard at her daughter, before a faint smile edged her mouth. “Clearly, I was wrong.”
“Put your matchmaking thoughts out of your head, Mama,” Evangeline warned.
“Matchmaking is such marvelous fun,” Aunt Amelia said dreamily. “I’ve already arranged a wedding for dear Lily Thornton and Cousin Matthew.”
Evangeline stabbed the needle through the linen of her embroidery. Without looking at the footman, she remarked, “Tell Lord Penford I am not here.”
But Amelia beamed and contradicted her. “Show him into the library, Harrison. I will send Evangeline in shortly.”
“I have nothing to say to that man. He is horrid, and I will not be part of your scheming,” she informed her aunt. Evangeline would not allow them to make a fool of her.
“If you do not see him in the library, I will send for him here,” her mother said. “I know Amelia and I would both like to know why he has come. Perhaps to renew his courtship?”
She was aghast at the idea. Anger roiled up inside her, but Evangeline tossed the needlework aside and stood. “That is the very last reason why he would be here. But if you insist, I will find out and return within one minute.” She had no idea why James would dare to set foot here, but it would not take long to be rid of him.
“Evangeline, your hair is falling from the pins,” her mother warned. “Take a moment and make yourself presentable.”
She ignored her mother and strode out of the room. As soon as she reached the mirror in the hall, she tousled her hair even more, letting a few pins dangle from the strands. Good. Now she looked frightful.
Evangeline took long steps toward the library, but something made her pause before she entered. Her heartbeat was unsteady, her pulse racing. Why did that man always have such an effect on her? She wished James were unattractive or portly. Instead, when she stopped in the doorway, she took a moment to gaze at him. He stood with his back to her, and his light-brown hair held glints of blond. His coat hugged his frame, outlining the lean muscles, and his trousers molded to his legs like a second skin.
She pinched herself roughly before she walked inside. Gather control of yourself. He’s only a man.
The man she had worshipped for five years, until that fateful day when he had finally noticed her.
She bit her lip and said, “Why are you here, Penford?”
James turned at the sound of her voice. A faint smile creased his mouth when he saw her rumpled appearance. Then his expression softened, as if he were glad to see her. Her traitorous heart leapt at the sight of him, and she tried to tamp down her emotions. From his coat pocket, he withdrew a crumpled piece of paper and held it out.
Evangeline entered the room and took it from him, smoothing the edges. When she read the note, she frowned. “I did not send this.”
She examined the handwriting, which was nothing like her own. The letters were large, and one of the words was misspelled. It asked Penford to come at once to meet with her. “Who would have sent this to you? And why?”
“I don’t know.” He leaned back and sat upon her uncle’s desk. “Especially when it was delivered an hour ago, and we’ve been traveling all day. I thought it best to find out in case something was wrong.”
“Why would you care?” she blurted out without thinking. Her cheeks burned when she realized how rude she’d been. “I apologize. That came out before I could stop myself from speaking.”
James eyed her a moment. “You’re still angry with me.”
She was. A rush of humiliation washed over her, and she wished he would simply leave. “You’ve seen for yourself that we are all fine. Just go back home, and we’ll leave it at that.” She started to go, but he caught her hand in his.
The warm pressure of his palm unraveled her with confusion. He had such a strong effect upon her that she could not resist. “Regardless of what you believe, Evangeline, I am not your enemy.”
She wasn’t certain she wanted to hear this. It was easier to hate him, to wallow in the humiliation. She had fallen beneath his spell, believing he cared for her. And every time she saw him, she was reminded of her weakness.
And his wickedness.
She raised her chin and regarded him. “I know that, Lord Penford. You may return home, and there’s no need to concern yourself with my welfare.”
James studied her for a long moment before he nodded. “Still, I wonder why anyone sent that note.”
Her face furrowed, and suddenly, she grew uncertain. “To draw you away from Lily?” She clenched her hands together. “Perhaps someone wanted you to leave her alone.”
He stiffened and let out a low curse. “I believe you may be right. I should go back.” But before James left the library, he remarked, “I meant what I said. I don’t want to be your enemy, Evangeline.”
Her face flushed with the memories. If she could go back and blot out those mistakes, she would do so in a single moment. But it was hard to let go of her own embarrassment and grant him a truce.
“I will try,” she said quietly.
He ventured a light smile, but when he departed, she felt a sense of terrible sadness. She had clung to animosity, for it protected her wounded heart. It was far easier to despise him than to forgive him.
Because forgiving him meant letting go.
Lily had sent off the note immediately to Matthew, hoping he would be able to see her for a short time. In the meantime, she snuggled with Sebastian, nuzzling his nose and delighting in his slobber.
But then, abruptly, the hair stood on end upon his spine. He let out a low growl and bolted up from her lap, snarling as he reached the doorway. Lily stood, uncertain of what had bothered him, but she relaxed when she saw Lord Davonshire arriving. Sebastian’s hind quarters hit the ground, and his tail wagged as the man reached into his pocket for a treat.
“Now how did you find your way to Lady Lily’s again?” he murmured to the dog, giving him the piece of bacon and rubbing the animal’s head. “I must apologize for Louis. He hasn’t wandered off in a long time. I suppose he must have been missing you.”
His tone held a trace of interest, and Lily brushed it aside. “I will admit that I missed your dog as well,” she said. “Especially his kisses.” She laughed as the dog licked at her fingertips. He sat and stared at Lord Davonshire, politely begging for more bacon.
“How is your mother?” the earl asked. “I presume she has improved, since you have returned to London.”
Her smile grew pained. “No, I am afraid she could not come with me.” She knew that Rose would take good care of their mother at Penford, and Iain would be there from time to time.
“I am sorry to hear that. But delighted, of course, to see you again.” He sent her a warm smile and took a seat, making it clear he intended to visit.
Which was not at all what she’d hoped for. Matthew would come soon enough, and the last thing she wanted was a gentleman caller to interrupt.
Something about Lord Davonshire’s visit bothered her. It was too convenient, almost as if he had been waiting for her brother to leave.
Without knowing quite what to say, she sat down. “Would you care for tea?” It was late, but perhaps he would have a cup and then go.
“I should be glad of spending more time in your company,” he answered. She rang the bell and ordered tea, but then decided it was time to inform him of her new circumstances.
“Lord Davonshire, I should tell you that my fiancé is on his way here,” Lily began. “Lord Arnsbury and I are now engaged to marry.”
At that, the earl’s face grew pained. “I know I should offer my congratulations, but I can see that you have not heard the stories circulating around London. Lord Arnsbury is involved in a terrible scandal. You may want to reconsider marrying into his family.”
The edge of anger crept into her voice. “I care nothing for idle gossip. I have been in love with Lord Arnsbury since before he left for India.”
The earl glanced at the door and then back again. Sebastian left his side when it was clear he would get no more bacon. He settled at Lily’s feet, resting his head upon her shoes.
“They say he was not the Earl of Arnsbury’s son,” Davonshire continued. “Others claim that he was adopted from an unwed acquaintance. And I cannot think that you would want to marry a bastard.”
“I could invent the same stories about you,” she countered. “I could pretend that you were a man laden with debt, that you needed to wed a wealthy woman. But it would be nothing more than a story, would it not?” She gave him a pointed look, and his gaze turned away. “I will not abandon Lord Arnsbury, regardless of what anyone says.”
“Then you are not like other women,” he admitted.
The tea arrived, but his demeanor had shifted into concern. “There is something else. I know that Lord Arnsbury suffered a great deal while he was away in India. The stories suggest he fell into madness. Even his servants say he became aggressive. Are you not fearful that Lord Arnsbury could be dangerous?”
Lily distracted herself with pouring the tea. She didn’t know why he was trying to cast aspersions on Matthew, but she simply sipped at her cup and ignored him. “Thank you for your concern, but no.”
She rather hoped that Matthew would arrive, but it was growing later, and he still had not come. At last, when Lord Davonshire finished his tea, he stood. “I suppose I should be taking Louis back with me now.” He withdrew a length of cord from his pocket and fashioned it into a leash. “I apologize for his unexpected arrival.”
The dog let out a low growl when Lord Davonshire attempted to place the loop around his neck. With an exasperated sigh, the earl took a sandwich from the tea tray and offered it to the animal. The dog instantly quieted and waited politely while the earl put the leash around his neck. He whimpered when the man led him away, and Lily longed to snatch him back again.
He’s not yours, she reminded herself. But she had been grateful to visit with the dog for a short time, even if he had run away.
“I hope I will see you again, Lady Lily. And please do remember my warning about Lord Arnsbury. I should hate for anything to happen to you.”
She stood from her chair and folded her hands. “I will be fine, thank you.”
After he had gone, she paced across the drawing room, feeling restless. She longed to see Matthew, but it was possible that he knew nothing of her arrival. From the window, she saw Lord Davonshire departing just as another carriage arrived. Her heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t stop her smile when she saw Matthew disembarking.
Lily longed to run to the door and meet him, but she forced herself to remain in the drawing room. At least she ought to maintain the pretense of being a lady. But when he finally appeared at the doorway, she tossed aside her inhibitions and threw herself into his arms. He dropped a small package on the floor and caught her, holding her in an embrace as he backed against the door to shut it.
She lifted her mouth to his, and the kiss was that of a starving man. There was reckless joy in the embrace, and she could scarcely catch her breath.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you. This fortnight has been the longest of my life,” he murmured, his hands moving to her waist and pulling her close. He moved her against the wall, kissing her throat. “Why was Davonshire here? Did he bring the dog to see you?”
Shivers erupted over her skin, and her breasts tightened at the thrill of his mouth upon her. “Sebastian ran away, and Lord Davonshire came to retrieve him.”
Matthew’s hands moved over her bodice, and she let out a shuddering breath as his thumbs grazed her sensitive nipples. Despite the corset and layers of fabric, she could feel the pressure of his touch, and it drove her toward wildness.
But then he stilled upon her and backed away. “How did he know the dog was here?” There was an edge in his voice, and she could not tell if it was jealousy or worry. “Davonshire lives nowhere near you. The dog would have had to travel for miles across London.”
“I thought the same myself. It might be that he intended to pay a call upon me, and the dog got away from him.” Even so, she found the entire situation strange. It almost seemed as if Davonshire had placed the dog there for her to find, thereby giving him an excuse to retrieve him.
Matthew’s expression was grim, and his suspicions were heightened. “And he waited until your brother was gone.” His finger slid beneath the chain she wore, lifting the ring from her bodice.
“It doesn’t matter. Regardless, I told him I was going to marry you.”
“And how did he respond to that?”
“He. . .warned me about you.” She wondered whether Matthew would be offended by Lord Davonshire’s gossip. But it was better for him to know the truth, she decided. “He said there was a great deal of scandal surrounding your name. And that many people believed you were a bastard.”
At that, Matthew’s expression tightened, and he stepped back from her. His demeanor sobered, and he reached for the fallen package. “I learned of the rumors, too. And we should talk about them.”
“I don’t care about the gossip,” she said. “Let people say what they will. It changes nothing between us.”
He handed her the wrapped package. “Open it.”
The package was heavier than she’d expected, and she sat down, untying the string. When she pulled away the brown paper, she saw dozens of letters. “What are these, Matthew?”
“Open one and see. The rest are the same.”
She chose the top letter and opened it, reading the note in silence. Then she folded it and regarded him. “They no longer want you to attend their ball.”
“No. And every last invitation I’ve received in the past fortnight has been revoked.” He reached for the package and pulled the letters free. “All the invitations are from families I believed were my friends. Even the invitations sent to my mother were rescinded.”
She was shocked to hear it. “Why would they do this? It’s just idle gossip, isn’t it?”
He took back the letters and set them aside. “And what if the rumors were true, Lily?”
“What do you mean?” He was behaving as if he knew something, when she’d expected him to deny it. Hadn’t he dismissed the stories the last time?
Matthew took a seat near the hearth, resting his wrists upon his knees. “I recently learned that Charlotte was not my mother. She and my father adopted me as a newborn infant and claimed me as their own.”
For a moment, she could say nothing, for it didn’t sound like it could possibly be real. “If that were true, why would she reveal it now?”
“Because we are being blackmailed.”
She came to sit closer to him, listening as he revealed everything. . .how he had been conceived, that Juliette was his true mother, and how Sarah Carlisle had been demanding money. While he spoke, she reached for his hand, realizing how difficult this was for him. His entire life had been built upon a lie, and he had to grasp a new truth.
But he needed to know that she would stand by him, no matter what. “Matthew, you are the Earl of Arnsbury, and nothing can change that. Your father—Lord Arnsbury—raised you to be his son, and since he swore to it, it must be accepted. He was your father in every sense of the word.”
He squeezed her hands. “I know it. But all the families in London suddenly don’t believe I am the earl. They think I am an imposter, as if I tried to deceive them. They want nothing more to do with me.” He reached for the notes and dropped them on the floor of the drawing room. “This would be our life, Lily. Ostracized from polite society. It’s not right or fair.”
She moved closer to him. “I don’t care. I want to be with you as your wife. For better or for worse.”
“But this isn’t the life I want for you.” He stood, stepping over the letters. “You’ve done nothing wrong, and I don’t want you to be isolated because of this.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She didn’t truly believe her friends would turn their backs on her. And Matthew was still the man she loved, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her days with.
“It does matter,” he said dully. “And nothing I say or do will end the talk.” He took a step away from her. “It’s a war I don’t know how to fight.”
This revelation had changed him, tearing away the childhood he had known. She didn’t ask how he had learned of this. What mattered was letting him see that she loved him still.
She drew her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “Then let me fight with you.”
Juliette Fraser sat with her three sisters, Amelia, Victoria, and Margaret, and their aunt Charlotte. Despite being around her dearest family, she felt a sense of fear drawing around her like a cloak. During the past hour, she had spilled out her darkest secrets, secrets that Charlotte already knew, but her sisters did not.
She was almost afraid to look at them, worried that they would be ashamed of her. But she could no longer keep them from knowing the truth about Matthew. Not now, when he needed her.
Margaret was the first to speak. Her face drawn with worry, and she spoke softly. “I think I always suspected it. You loved Matthew more than a cousin, and whenever we visited Charlotte, he was always in your arms.” Then her tone shifted. “Had I known what Strathland did to you, I would have shot him myself.”
Victoria said nothing but reached out and squeezed Juliette’s hand.
Amelia appeared stunned into speechlessness. Juliette had never before seen her sister so taken aback. Finally, she spoke. “I cannot believe you kept this from us all these years.” Her emotions were bright, her eyes gleaming with tears. “How could you bear this burden alone?”
“Because it meant keeping Matthew’s inheritance safe. There was no other choice.” Juliette leaned back in her chair, releasing Victoria’s hand. “Now the gossip is circulating, and I have to protect my son. For that reason, I have asked Sarah Carlisle to pay a call on us today.”
“Why on earth would we want anything to do with that woman?” Margaret interrupted. “After all that her brother did to you—”
“I was not the only victim,” Juliette said. “Matthew said she is destitute, and any stories she might have spread were out of desperation. I want to see her for myself and discover how we can force the gossip to die down.”
“Are you certain she is the source of it?” Victoria ventured. “Could there be someone else who holds a grudge against Matthew?”
Juliette shrugged. “I cannot say. But for now, we can meet with her and find out what may be done. She should be arriving at any moment.”
Amelia’s expression held steel. “If she was the source of the gossip, she deserves whatever ruin she lives in. I’ll not lift a finger to help her.”
In answer, Juliette held out the note she had received from Matthew. “Look at this.” Though she understood Amelia’s hatred toward the Earl of Strathland and his sister, she did not hold Sarah to blame for the attack. Rather, she pitied the woman for having to live with such a brother.
Amelia took the letter and read it, but her annoyance didn’t diminish. “Why would Matthew want to help a woman who tried to ruin him?”
“Because she was the victim of gossip, and Matthew’s father was caught with her—though I don’t think they did anything wrong. But the scandal ruined her chances of marriage. Matthew believes if we set her up with a good husband, she will let the matter go. Though he did say that she was rather. . .angry and reluctant.”
“I cannot imagine a woman like Sarah Carlisle would let it go,” Amelia said, handing back the letter. A footman arrived at that moment, and she shrugged. “But if she’s already here, I suppose we can hear what she has to say.”
The servant inclined his head in silent admission that their guest had arrived. As he departed to show her in, Juliette turned to Amelia. “Let me speak to her first.”
After a moment, Sarah Carlisle appeared in the entrance. She was dressed in gray, and her hair was coiled atop her head. Time had carved ridges of unhappiness on her face. At first, she didn’t seem at all eager to join them, but Juliette stood. “Please come in.”
The woman eyed them all as if she were entering a pit of vipers. But she took the chair Juliette offered. Silence descended, and for a moment, it seemed that the woman wanted to flee their presence.
Juliette took a moment to calm herself. Sarah had changed over the years, and bitterness had stolen her looks. But the question was whether the woman still possessed a heart.
“Will you have a cup of tea?” she offered.
Sarah hesitated. “That depends on whether you’ve put poison in it.” Her posture remained ramrod straight, and Juliette didn’t stop her smile this time.
“We’re not that terrible, Miss Carlisle.”
At that, the woman shook her head. “I have no idea why I even came here. I know you loathe and despise me.”
“Because you’re trying to destroy our cousin’s inheritance,” Amelia snapped.
Juliette pushed back a groan, knowing there was no stopping her sister now. Once Amelia decided someone was an enemy, she would not reverse her course.
But Sarah turned to face the animosity. “Don’t you mean your nephew?”
Amelia’s glare turned heated. “My sister asked me not to interfere, and for her sake, I will not. But were it up to me, I would have nothing to do with you.”
At that, Juliette stood between the women. She guided Amelia to sit back and sent her a warning look. To Sarah, she said, “I have only just told my sisters about Matthew’s birth.”
Miss Carlisle met her gaze, and she eyed the door. “Shall I go, then? It seems that my presence here is a waste of time.”
“No.” Juliette said. “Matthew asked me to intervene, and so I shall. I believe you want our help, else you would not have come.”
At that, the woman’s expression turned tired. “There is nothing you can do to help me. And despite what you might think, I did not spread the stories about him. Someone else did.”
“I don’t believe y—” Amelia started, but Juliette cut her off.
“Enough.” She pulled her chair beside Sarah’s. “What we all want is for Matthew to be happy and to put the past behind him. And if you are willing to put it to rest, we may be able to help you find your own happiness. If you wish to try.”
“No man would have someone like me,” Sarah said quietly. “I’m too old, and I would only make myself into a fool.”
It was then that Victoria spoke up. “All of us have seen better days. But I know many widowers who are quite lonely in their years. Some desire only companionship.”
She studied them, and Juliette saw a wistful glimpse of hope in the woman’s eyes before she shuttered it. “I don’t know.”
“If you agree to never speak of Matthew’s past—and if you help us silence the rumors—we will do everything we can to help you,” Juliette said. “Speak up on his behalf, and insist that Matthew is legitimate. Do this for him and for us. And in return, you’ll have another chance at your own happiness.”
“Next Friday,” Victoria said. “I want you to attend my Christmas ball. There will be hundreds of people there, and you will be treated like an honored guest.”
“I don’t belong in a duchess’s house,” Sarah insisted, her face coloring. “I wouldn’t know what to say or how to act. It’s been far too long.”
At that, Margaret released a sigh. “I cannot say as I trust you, either, but I know what it is to be stared at by society. When Cain and I took over Aphrodite’s Unmentionables as our family business, many households refused to receive us. But we learned how to overcome it.” She assessed Sarah and said, “I even know a few of the widowers Toria spoke of. Some would marry a stick of wood if it smiled at them.”
A horrified choking sound came from Sarah, and Juliette realized it was a laugh. The woman covered her mouth and gathered her composure. “Well, then. I suppose if they would marry a stick of wood, then there’s hope for me.”