Chapter Thirteen
Richard glanced through the window into the torrential downpour washing away the stench and grime of the day. He downed the brandy he had been nursing and stubbed the cheroot out on an ashtray. He felt on edge, discomfited, and the source of his discontent could no longer be ignored. Evie. It had been two days since she had departed his estate, and in that time, he doubted he’d gotten more than a couple of hours’ sleep. He’d tried to forget all his troubles by working, yet his mind was still consumed with her. Yesterday she had sent a carriage for his daughter to have tea with her at Rosette Park, and Emily and the children had bundled themselves off to see her. Instead of working like he’d planned, his thoughts had been consumed with everything about Evie—her laughter, the way she had romped with the children, the sweet piquancy of her kisses, hell, she had tasted like sin and all that was forbidden. And he had been such a fool for taking a bite of her fruit.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and a stiff wind blew through the partially open windows in the library. He peered into the black, starless sky. Grateful the rain had eased to a slight drizzle, he quickly exited the library and headed outside through the side doors. Once in the gardens, he inhaled the cold, crisp air into his lungs.
He walked along the puddled, beaten path, thinking about his recent decisions and what he would need to do to proceed in securing his daughter’s happiness, and dare he admit it, his own. Lord Ashford had arrived less than an hour after Evie’s departure, and even before they had descended on Kencourt Manor, Richard had known he would never offer for Honoria.
Even if he had not seduced Evie, he would have ceased correspondence with Lord Ashford. Lady Honoria was not the right fit for his muddled family. The distaste on her face as she had studied his children had filled him with cold disgust. She had been unable to hide her shock at the realization they all resided with him. Richard had been amused at the unruffled pretense she had tried to assume. She’d even had the gall to enquire if he would ship them away to an orphanage or boarding school soon. Despite Ashford recently inheriting the earldom from his father’s passing, their distinction in society was far below Evie and her family. Yet to Evie’s credit she was far less concerned than Lady Honoria with society’s opinion. After luncheon, he had informed Ashford he had wasted his trip, and the following morning their party had once again departed to London.
He supposed he would have to continue his reluctant hunt for a wife. Yet…he could do nothing until he knew if he had gotten Evie with child. A surge of possessiveness went through him at the thought of her carrying his baby. Christ. He scrubbed a hand over his face, ruefully admitting he was in a bind.
What was he to do about Evie? It seemed a question he had been asking himself for six long years. It was about time he found the blasted answer to it.
An unusual sound in the dark had Richard slowing his steps, canting his head to one side and listening. He heard nothing, yet a warning signal prickled over his skin. After a few seconds, he moved forward with stealth, flaring his senses.
Two shadows suddenly lurched at him. His reaction swift and brutal, he slammed his elbow into one of their faces, gripped the other into a hip lock, and threw him. Before he could take stock of the situation, a body slammed into him from behind, propelling him forward. He managed to find purchase on the wet grass, but before he could retaliate, a blow bore him to the ground. Instinct warned him to stay still, to pretend as if he had been knocked out while he catalogued the situation.
The children had remained at Rosette Park, and would not return to Kencourt Manor until tomorrow, so he had no need to worry about their safety. Most of his staff were able bodied men, well able to defend their lives if necessary. His butler and valet were both men he had met in the war and could be quite merciless when needed.
Two men flanked either side of him and hauled him up, trying to lift his body and carry him away from his estate.
Interesting.
His mind shifted through a host of possibilities, thinking which of his enemies would be so bold. He listened to the footfalls traveling with him and counted at least four men. His lips curved. They should have sent more men to take him. A subtle tension invaded his limbs as he prepared to twist from his captors and reach for the knife hidden in his boot, then one of the men spoke.
“We have him, Your Grace. We didn’t have to break into the library. He was already outside.”
Your Grace?
“Deliver him to the carriage, and be careful. The marquess is one of London’s most ruthless men, he will not be pleased when he comes to.”
Wolverton? What the hell was going on? Why would one of his closest friends be orchestrating his capture? Curious to see where this scenario was heading, Richard remained a dead weight and allowed them to grunt and carry him to a carriage. He was pushed inside, the door slammed, and then it rattled into motion.
Her scent of roses and jasmine invaded his lungs before he saw Evie. The acute pleasure of being near her again so soon had his heart stirring to a faster rhythm, and a whisper of desire floated through his veins. Richard pushed himself up and settled against the squab.
“What errant nonsense is this?”
…
The sight of Richard filled Evie with a rush of pain. Gritting her teeth against the emotions, she took a deep breath to steady her courage. No welcoming warmth lit his expression. His eyes narrowed, and in the barely-there light in the carriage, he appeared a bit too sinister for comfort.
“Evie, what is the meaning of this?”
She firmed her shoulders and resolve. “I believe it is evident. You are being kidnapped,” she said smoothly. “We are bound for the moors of Scotland to an estate of His Grace’s. A priest will be waiting, along with a few men to persuade your compliance.”
“Surely you jest?”
“I will not allow you to marry another when I may even now be carrying your child.” A blush warmed her face as desire flamed in his eyes. “Nor will I wait in vain for you to seize upon the clear affection we feel for each other. You would see us divided forever because of your unjust fears for my reputation.”
“I seem to recall mentioning I have no desire to wed,” he murmured, an undertone of menace in his voice that decidedly unsettled her.
“Yet you have Lord Ashford and his daughter at your home, expecting such an announcement soon.” Evie firmed her lips to prevent their trembling. She had known he would not take her actions lightly. “We are heading to Scotland. However, I would much prefer a wedding surrounded by my family and friends. I’ll not trouble my father and brother to defend my honor, for surely they would challenge you to a duel, and I am certain you would trounce them.”
“Ah…so you are obliged to defend your own honor?”
It was impossible to restrain the tremor of uncertainty that quivered through her. “Yes.”
“You gave me that honor willingly, you gave it to me wet and tight, with lustful cries for more, and without any promises made by me.”
Her mortified gasp echoed in the carriage. “Perhaps I would be less incensed, less determined, if you’d not acted the scoundrel, taken what I offered with love, and then intended to marry another!”
He stiffened. “With love?”
She canted her head to one side. “Yes…with love.”
Something powerful flared in the depth of his amber eyes. For a frightful moment, she thought it might be hope and returned sentiment. The warmth fled, and then he seemed so austere and unforgiving. “And if I refuse your demands?”
She waved toward the folds of her cloak. “Perhaps I have a pistol to ensure your compliance.”
His lips twitched, and a disturbing and predatory light flared in the depths of his eyes. “So, you will march me to the altar with a gun, hmm?”
“If I must.”
Richard slid his unforgiving gaze over her. “I’m not marrying Lady Honoria.”
Evie stared at him in shock. He’d changed his intentions? Why? When? Before she could respond to his incredible assertion, a loud grinding sound echoed, and the carriage lurched forward in a violent motion. She was heaved from her seat. Richard grabbed her, holding her close in a protective circle as the carriage shuddered to stop.
“Dear heavens, what has happened?”
“Stay here.” He eased her from him, pushed the door open, and disappeared into the darkness.
Evie peered outside, unable to see anything. Murmurings filtered inside, and she recognized Richard’s and the coachman’s voice. The door was wrenched open and slammed shut, raw curses spilling from Richard’s lips.
“Why do you snarl like an angry beast?”
“The axle of our carriage is broken, and Kencourt Manor is ten minutes away, but it is raining heavily, and the roads are mud logged.”
“I—”
Her words tapered off as he made a sharp slashing motion with his hand.
“There is a procession less than a half mile away, several carriages, and without a doubt, they will stop to render aid. What do you think, Evie, will happen when we are found alone?”
Oh, dear Lord. For precious moments, her mind blanked at the dire implications. I’ll not survive it. “Are you certain?”
“Yes, at least three carriages. I can see the lantern lights atop them.”
“Good heavens!”
“Was this your plan?”
Her heart pounded, and it was just too much to think about the implications of being found by anyone. “I daresay it is even beyond my wiles to summon the rains and allow for an axle to break on the carriage.” Evie cleared her throat. “Is there a chance they may pass us?”
He scowled, rather blackly. “We are broken down in the middle of the bloody road. No, there is no chance. I did not want this for you.”
The chilly finality in his tone had her stomach pitching.
She stared at him with ill-concealed alarm. “Want what for me?”
“Scandal, ignominy,” he said flatly.
Her heart tripped within her chest. Evie closed her eyes, wondering if he could hear the cracking of her heart. “Even if we’d gotten to Scotland, you wouldn’t have married me,” she said faintly.
“No.”
Certainly, she was about to disintegrate into a thousand pieces. “I cannot believe it of you.”
“What in God’s name were you thinking? Acting with such recklessness?”
The scandal would be horrifying. Her breath rasped, and her heart pounded. She had gambled everything and lost. “I’m ruined, and you would easily abandon me to such a fate,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Do you believe I should marry you because someone from our society may see us together?”
“We are not just together. It’s after midnight.” Her throat clogged with tears. “The scandal will be horrifying, Richard.”
His mien remained cold and dispassionate, and her heart broke even more.
“Do you hold any affections for me at all? Do you possess even a morsel of love for me, Richard?”
“Do I love you?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head defiantly. “Do you?” she asked, finally unafraid and unashamed to ask the question her heart had long desired to know.
His handsome face twisted with angry regret. “From the moment I met you, Evie, you ensnared my heart and my fucking soul without me being aware of it.”
A lone tear spilled over. “Then why will you not marry me?” she asked hoarsely. “I now stand on the brink of ruin and complete disgrace. We both know what will happen the second those carriages arrive and this news travels to town. Everyone will treat me as if I am a pariah and I will be cut by those of our society.”
He leaned forward, his elbows pressing into his thighs, his eyes roaming her face. “That heartbreak you feel now, Evie, the hollowness rising inside as you imagine being vilified by all you love, imagine being torn from your family and friends, and not briefly, but for months, years, possible permanent estrangement. The loss of hope that you feel about not belonging, being cut at balls, and watching the invitations to society’s events dwindle…that is what you will always endure being married to a man like me. I’ve taken the lives of men, I walk and drink with people who are the dregs of this world, the scum, the nobodies. The dirt and filth I deal with will be transferred to you. Being caught in this carriage with me is a scandal that will be forgotten in a few months, which will be swept aside like ashes in the wind when you’re married to someone with distinction, a title, and an impeccable reputation. I will never pander to the whims of a cruel and indifferent society, bowing and living my life based on their opinions. I’ve long lived by my own code, and because I’ll not change, I will always be resented by polite society.”
Her heart was beating a terrified tempo. “You are a marquess, a future duke, the world will not hate you forever. You are wealthy and powerful, even now, they cannot cut—”
“No, Evie, I did not speak lightly when I said we are worlds apart. You visit my estate in secret, you speak and play with my daughter, never slighting her and I adore you for it, but it is done in secret, Evie. You would never let it be known to your friends and family you took off your shoes and played on the grass; that in the past you’ve slipped away and you actually visited my tenants and ate with them on St. Stephen’s Day. I’m certain you did not tell your fashionable set of the gifts you handed to my tenants’ children, for they would shame you for it. I doubt you would ever allow the polite world to know how much you are coming to love Emily. If we marry, what would you do, encourage me to ship her to boarding school? Or would you also publicly claim her as our daughter? Claim all the children as ours?”
“I—”
“You would not claim her or the children. If you tried, society would flay you alive for even daring to associate with me. I’ve already suffered the betrayal of one woman who should have protected Emily with everything inside her. What faith do I have that you will withstand such a challenge and not turn your back on those who share my heart when you can no longer withstand their derision?”
Her throat ached, and a deep pain pierced her heart.
“Our time together has been more than I ever dreamed of, but you would be ashamed to call my life your own, and I would not suffer for us to be the brunt of your shame and disdain. I will not suffer having a wife who is enmeshed in a cruel and hypocritical society that I loathe. A wife who will no doubt feel keen regret at aligning herself with my family and me after she is made to feel the wrath of society for daring to acknowledge a bastard, and for marrying a disgraced lord.”
She slowly swiped away the tears running down her face. “This is what you believe of me? In all the years we have been friends, this is what you truly believe in me as a person?”
A chilling distance formed within his gaze. “Yes,” he said flatly.
Her eyes closed against the condemnation in his eyes, and she felt as though she couldn’t drag enough air into her lungs. “And this is why you have been so adamant in not courting me, despite the affection and the desires you palpably possess for me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh!” She could not think without pain. “It is not for you to determine my strength and tell me what I will wilt under. You do not get to decide my strength.”
A hard smile touched his lips and he waved his hand, encompassing them. “And you are kidnapping me. Is that not you, Evie, deciding for me when I’ve said I will not be a party to a pain you cannot yet comprehend?”
All of her dreams shattered into pieces around her silly naive feet.
“Evie—”
“No, do not speak my name,” she whispered, lifting her gaze to his. “How utterly foolish of me to want your tender regards when you believe me to be vain, shallow, pretentious, and indifferent to the pain of others. I would never want to marry a man who had so little regard for my character and honor. How utterly misguided of me to have loved you so desperately for six years, waiting in half agony and half hope that one day you might admire and desire me as ardently as I do you!”
“Evie—”
“No! How dare you judge me by your ridiculously exacting standards. How dare you assume everyone in our society is heartless and preys on the weak. Ignorance does not mean indifference. Being privileged and wealthy does not guarantee heartlessness. You judge our society harshly and me along with it, without truly considering my heart and character. If you were half the honorable man I thought you were, you would see you are not the only one who cares, who fights, and who bleeds for those less fortunate! If you ever possessed any affections for me, you could not believe me to be so puffed up with vanity for myself and higher circumstances.”
Her voice was disparaging, and she did not care to temper her words. She jabbed a finger at his chest. “I would never hurt Emily or the children to please anyone, and for you…for you to believe such of me…to believe I am that disgusting in character and still touch me with such passion—you are cruel,” she whispered, uncaring that tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. “How did I ever have the misfortune to think I wanted to marry you?”
His gaze hooded. “Many ladies confuse their first taste of passion with love. I’ve experienced it enough times. The love and need you feel will fade in a few days. Only a couple weeks ago, you wanted lessons in seduction to trap another into marriage.”
“You insufferable idiot. You were the man I wanted to entice into my arms. It has always been you. Every suitor I’ve discouraged was because you stole my reasoning and my heart years ago.”
He jerked as if she had punched him.
“I would not marry you now even if you fell onto your knees in a crowded ballroom and asked. I’ve loved you…” Her voice broke. “I loved you when the world called you a heartless knave, a libertine, for I had trust in your honor. I adored you, even more, when you claimed your Emily and suffered being shunned for it.” She leaned forward and touched his scar fleetingly. “I loved you at all times. I have been slow to step from the golden world I was born into, to see the pain and suffering, but never did I revile you for seeing it before me…yet while knowing my true heart for all these years, you believe me to be such a wretched friend. You have broken my trust…you’ve broken me. I never want to see you again.”
Evie pushed from the carriage, impervious to the rain that sleeted from the sky. A sob tore from her throat, and she walked away from the broken-down equipage, uncaring of where she traveled, uncaring of the cold. She had wagered everything for him, her heart, her reputation, her virtue, and she had failed.
She had risked it because she had believed in the admiration she thought he had for her, she had trusted in the desire in his touch and his kisses, she had believed it meant everything, when in truth, it was of little consequence to him. Yet, nothing could overshadow the pain that he would think so little of her character.
I do not trust nor love.
Wrapping her arms around her middle and hunching her shoulders against the rain, she hurried away aimlessly. If only she could outrun the tearing pain and disappointment. Evie pressed her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. How truly dispossessed of sense she had been. How could I have been so foolishly naive? Several minutes rushed by before she faltered. She hated to return in his direction and the hovering scandal. A violent shiver worked itself through her body. It took her a few moments to realize she was surrounded by utter darkness, and a voice was yelling her name somewhere in the distance.
Another shiver worked through her, and an unexpected sneeze escaped her.
“Evie!”
She moved toward the voice, desperate to leave the cold, the fear, and the uncertainty drowning her. The sky opened more, and the deluge came harder. Her coat was heavy from being waterlogged, her bonnet and hair soaked.
“Evie!”
She wanted to ignore his call, hating the pain tearing through her heart, hating that he’d rushed after her when she wanted to be away from him. Her head pounded, her limbs ached, and the shivers would not cease. “Richard,” she tried to yell, but her voice came out a mere croak.
Somehow, he found her through the sheet of rain, grabbed her, and swung her into his arms.
I’m so cold…
Strong arms held her in a protective, gentle embrace, so at odds with the furious pounding coming from the chest her head was pressed against.
“God’s blood, Evie, what were you thinking, dashing off in the rain like this?” The whisper was harsh, yet filled with such concern. She wanted to stir and reassure him she would be well.
He moved with her with such strength, almost running as if her weight was negligible. She drifted, her mind desperate to succumb to the darkness tugging at her so insistently, but the chill piercing her bones would not allow her to retreat.
Voices echoed around her, a horse neighed, and then Richard’s voice was issuing sharp commands.
“Upon my word! Is that Lady Evelyn?”
“This is beyond the pale, why do you have her out here, you blackguard?” another male voice demanded.
There were several gasps and murmurs, and then she was bundled into a coat that smelled like him. Instantly she hated the scent, and a harsh sob tore from her throat. She tried to push the coat from her, not wanting anything to remind her of him, yet his scent was the only solace she could find.
“No,” she murmured weakly.
“You need to keep warm, my dear,” a lady’s voice soothed. “What happened, why were you out in this ghastly weather?”
She was once again gathered into arms…his arms. She moaned a feeble protest.
“Westfall! It is highly inappropriate for you to hold Lady Evelyn so close. Hand her to me,” a familiar male voice muttered.
“If you value your fat, stubby fingers, Lord Muir, I suggest you keep them to yourself. I will slice them from your hand if you attempt to touch her again,” Richard said with soft menace.
Voices swirled in the carriage, some strident, angry, and others rife with speculation. Evie did not care. Her heart had been pierced, and she feared it would never be mended. With that painful and inexplicable awareness, she allowed her lids to close and slid into the oblivion of a faint.