Enticing Eve: Scandalous Secrets, Book 2 (42 page)

“I wanted to tell you myself but didn’t want to further alienate you.” Colin walked silently towards his brother, placing his palm on Tristan’s shoulder. “Eve and I are truly sorry for hurting you, Tristan. It is the one fact that keeps our happiness from being complete.”

When his brother failed to protest, Colin continued. “We want you to be happy and to have a family of your own.”

“That will never happen,” Tristan asserted. “There are consequences to every action, after all.”

Colin studied his brother.
Punch me!
he thought.
Yell at me. Fight me!
This detached silence was unexpected and something Colin couldn’t contend with.

He turned towards Tristan, deciding that he must say more. “Keep the estate. Use it or don’t use it. It is your choice. Gwen and Sebastian would love to see you more, as would Emma, Nicholas, and Victoria.”

His words hovered in mid-air as he gauged his brother’s reaction. Colin was certain his brother must make an excellent card player for he showed no sign of emotion when Victoria’s name was mentioned. If Tristan was truly oblivious to the young woman’s adoration for him, he must be blind.

Clapping his brother on the back, Colin added. “I want my children to know their Uncle Tristan. I know you’re not ready yet, but perhaps someday you will grant me that wish?”

“You ask a great deal of me,” Tristan crossed his arms over his chest. “I honestly don’t know if that will ever be possible.”

Colin knew he could expect nothing more. He himself had fallen victim to rage and understood how it could destroy one’s life.
 

Tristan was now battling the same daemon.

“I will never give up on you,” Colin said, his tone resolute. “If you want to be angry at me, so be it. I won’t give up on you. You’re my brother, and I love you, Tristan.”

The only response Colin received was a deep sigh. He supposed he must be content with that for now, but he meant every single word.

Upon exiting through the large mahogany door of Tristan’s townhome, Colin descended the stone steps then paused on the sidewalk. Pedestrians dressed in their finest morning attire passed, as did horses pulling carriages; however, all happened in a blur. His gaze rested upon the windows to Tristan’s office where his brother still stood, staring blankly at the bustling scene below as if in a daze.
 

Colin made a mental note to speak to Gwen. Perhaps she could get through to him. He would also speak with Victoria. She’d seen him in London during the wedding. Maybe she had some insight as to how to help Tristan.

He turned, striding towards his carriage. He refused to give up on his brother especially after what he learned today.
 

I will help Tristan
, he silently vowed. Far from feeling optimistic, Colin’s heart hung heavy.
 

His brother was battling his own inner daemons.
 

No matter how much help and support his family provided, Tristan would have to conquer them in his own time.

* * *

Eve walked the Duke of Davenport’s grounds, now in autumn splendor, admiring trees in several different shades of crimson and russet until she reached her destination, Victoria’s art chalet.

Designed by her brother, Sebastian, the cozy chalet was complete with wide windows accentuated by meticulous flower boxes, a front porch with columns and French doors leading into the limestone and glass structure.
 

Eve rapped upon the door and waited for Tori’s sweet voice to call her inside. It had been so long since they had spoken alone, their newfound polite conversation now surrounded by the presence of either one or a combination of family members.
 

Though Tori had been kind, Eve still owed her an apology for her abhorrent behavior and decided today was the day to make amends.

Upon entering, Eve remained amazed by the magnificence of Victoria’s cozy workspace. The domed glass ceiling was breathtaking, and Eve looked upwards towards the bright autumn sky. She then noted the murals in the foyer, all painted by Victoria and the quaint furnishings. Jutting away from the foyer and the main room, a Queen Ann table and matching settee comprised the sitting room, complete with its own hearth.
 

That’s where Eve found Victoria on this particular afternoon, seated on her cream and cornflower blue striped settee with a sketch pad and charcoals in hand.

Eve waited, well aware that when Tori was in the middle of sketching, it was best not to interrupt as that was when ideas can most easily be lost. Victoria looked up after a minute or so.
 

“Eve,” she stood in immediate response, “this is a pleasant surprise. I didn’t expect to see you today.”
 

“I thought it best to surprise you,” Eve teased her sister-in-law as Victoria wiped her hands with a cloth before greeting her uninvited guest with a kiss on the cheek.
 

“To what do I owe this honor?” Tori tilted her head to the side as if skeptical. Eve couldn’t blame her after the row that all but ended their close friendship.

“I come bearing a gift,” Eve handed her friend a white box with a red satin ribbon tied in a bow. “A
forgive me
gift to be precise.”

Victoria smiled, motioning to the settee. “That is sweet of you, but aren’t we past apologies?”

“No, I never properly apologized for making a complete fool of myself and for punishing you when I was truly angry with myself. I said cruel things, for which I am greatly ashamed, and I need you to know how sorry I am.”
 

Eve watched as Victoria placed the box on the beautiful antique table before them then accepted her sister-in-law’s offer to sit. “I am sorry, Tori. I miss our friendship so much.”

Grinning, Victoria took Eve’s hand in hers. “All is forgiven, I promise. Your gift, though unnecessary, is appreciated.”

Eve returned her smile. “Open it,” she encouraged.

Victoria did as bid, opening the box to find an opulent jade silk. “The fabric is magnificent, thank you.”

“I come with a plan,” Eve said, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I will design a gown for you embroidered with golden flowers. It will accentuate all of your curves and you, as always, will look luminescent. There is no way that any man could resist you in such a gown.”

Based upon Tori’s knowing glance, Eve’s meaning was quite clear in spite of the fact that they hadn’t confided in each other over the course of several months.
 

“So,” Tori began with a conspiratorial wink, “you believe a gown will help me win Tristan’s affection?”

“It is a start,” Eve shrugged.

Victoria sighed, her mood turning pensive as she fingered the smooth fabric. “Actually, it would be more like a continuation of sorts.”

Her friend’s meaning was quite clear. “What am I not aware of?” Eve asked, her voice an octave higher from excitement.

“I’m not quite certain, myself,” Tori said, refolding the delicate fabric and placing it in the box with care. “One moment Tristan and I were speaking and the next…” Tori paused again.
 

“I can’t take the suspense, Tori. Please tell me what happened.” Eve beseeched her friend to quicken her pace.

“He kissed me … I kissed him … we kissed each other,” Victoria ran her hands through her auburn curls, her brows furrowed in confusion. “It was the morning of your wedding. I don’t quite know how it occurred, just that he seemed to see me in a different light, and he kissed me rather passionately. It was glorious!” Victoria sighed as a pink tinge crept up her cheeks at the mere memory.
 

Eve gasped, now leaning forward. “What happened next?”

“He blamed it on the bourbon, left town the next day and has been hiding from me ever since,” Victoria admitted with an arched brow. “I’ve taken care not to make too much of it. After all, how promising is it that Tristan kisses me one day then flees the city the next?”

“Could he be hiding from his feelings for you?” Eve asked. “It could be a MacAlistair brother trait.”

“I wondered that as well. I dare say neither his mother’s escapades nor your indiscretion with his brother has placed women in the most flattering light for him – no offense.” Victoria paused, as if gauging her friend’s reaction.
 

“None taken,” Eve assured her friend, encouraging her to continue.
 

“He blamed it on the alcohol, but here’s the rub – I am certain he wasn’t inebriated, far from it in fact.”

Victoria’s tone became more animated, fury flashing in her azure eyes. “The more I consider it, blaming the bourbon was a preposterous excuse if ever I heard one. Eve, his kiss was so intense, so demanding. Honestly, bourbon or no bourbon, a man doesn’t kiss a woman with such reckless abandon if he feels nothing for her.”

Eve silently agreed for it sounded like an incredible kiss. She then noted the irony of it. Had they been caught, Tori could possibly be Tristan MacAlistair’s wife right now. “What is your plan? I know you. You must have some sort of scheme.”

A smile swept Victoria’s face. “Let’s just say I’m working on one, shall we?”

“That man would be a fool not to see that he cares for you,” Eve asserted.

“How can you be certain he cares for me?” Tori asked.

Upon noting her friend’s visible confusion, Eve added, “Tristan never kissed me like that. The only man who has is my husband. I believe that means something.”

By the look on her face, Eve could tell that Victoria thought so too.

“If, by chance, this doesn’t work out with Tristan,” Eve added with a conspiratorial wink, “I know of someone else who might interest you. He’s quite handsome if you like tall, dark, and menacing. He’s also brooding, dangerous, and scarred for life – perhaps he is your type?”

Victoria laughed. “Thank you, I think, but I’ll have you know that the role of matchmaker is currently being played by my eldest brother Sebastian. He has been relentless of late, and it is becoming more and more difficult to postpone the inevitable marriage mart. I fear that I am running out of time.”

“Well, if shunning suitors is what you wish, I’m sure my grandmother would be more than happy to oblige.” Eve knew the Dowager Duchess would jump at the opportunity where Victoria was concerned.

Tori patted Eve’s hand, “I shall happily accept your offer.”

“God help us, she is a formidable woman.” Eve was still astonished by her grandmother’s strength and foresight.

“Perhaps she can convince Sebastian to grant me more time.” Tori’s eyes shone with hope. “He will listen to Fiona.”

“Is Sebastian truly this anxious to find you a spouse?” Eve mused. “The two of you are so close that I half expected that he would never part with you.”

“I am a witty sister and quite the companion when life gets dull,” Tori joked before allowing herself a deep sigh. “Alas, I think he may be testing me. My brother is quite astute. I believe he suspects
 

I fancy someone but he has no idea who.”

Eve studied her friend. “Are you certain Tristan is the one?”

“Positive,” Victoria’s tone was clear as a bell, her determination evident.

“I support you, but make me one promise. Please take care, Tori,” Eve warned. What kind of sister-in-law would she be if she didn’t warn Victoria?

“Oh, dear. Yet another sibling to warn me of impending doom,” she mused. “It is a good thing that I like you so much, otherwise I might resent the intrusion.”

Eve hugged her sister-in-law. “I have missed you so much.” Her statement couldn’t have been more sincere.
 

When Tori hugged her in return, relief flooded Eve, who was thrilled to note that all was indeed forgiven.

Chapter 21

“There you are,” Eve smiled, sprinting across the grand room to greet her husband. “We held dinner for you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Well aware that Colin met with Tristan again today, Eve and her husband shared concerned looks before Colin whispered, “We’ll talk later.”

“I see we have company,” he added, viewing the number of place settings.

“Hello, dear boy,” Fiona called from a chaise beside the window where she was knitting, basking in the strong autumn sunlight streaming through the gleaming glass panes.

He bent down to kiss her cheek. “What are you creating?” he asked, staring at the orange, purple, and green balls of yarn on the table beside her.

“I am knitting my great-grandbaby a sweater,” she said, waving her knitting needles in the air with each word.

“I see you’re already sharing your glorious fashion sense with him or her,” Colin quipped, referring to the colorful yarn that comprised Fiona’s creation.

The Dowager Viscountess guffawed.

Colin heard the clanking of dishes behind him. Informal meals meant that the family carried plates to the table. The Dowager Viscountess insisted upon it, her intention being to give the servants some time to themselves.
 

If our family has a mid-afternoon break, so shall they. The servants are our extended family and a family to each other.