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He crowded her then, closing the space between them. “Do you think me so low that I should make love to you if I had the slightest intention of marrying her? It has been a long time since I knew that she and I would not suit.” He refused to allow her to run away, framing her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “And a long time since I knew that we would.”

He kissed her then, fiercely, possessively, crushing her body to his. Only the knowledge that Jimmy was likely aiming his rifle at that moment kept Max from holding on to her forever.

Shakily, he let go, removed himself to arm’s distance. A good thing, too, because if Jimmy had covered the last two yards, that younger, smaller man would have been at Max’s throat. As it was, Gail, her face flushed and tear-streaked, dazedly waved Jimmy back. He returned to his post by the horses, but kept a sharp eye on Max.

Silence reigned for a time, thoughts reeling, eyes searching, breaths racing.

Finally, Gail spoke raggedly. “I…I do not think you so low as to…what you said.” A faint smile played across Max’s lips, knowing how difficult it was to disconcert Gail’s speech, but she cleared her throat and continued. “Oh! But I don’t know what to think! And even so, what is there that can be done now? You are as good as married to Evangeline. The rules—”

“Hang the rules!” he said so vehemently, even the birds in the trees were shocked into silence. “I have spent a fortnight remembering my life, and I realized something. I have spent the time following the rules of someone else. My father, Society…Gail.” He came to her again, but only held her firmly by the arms, pleading. “Don’t you find bowing to the dictates of the Ton abominably stupid? To hold our breaths for fear of what? We want to be together, but what keeps us apart? Not such conquerable barriers as language, distance, or time, no—it’s gossip! I’ve been pushed around all my life. I shan’t let it happen now.” He cupped her chin, again bringing her eyes to his face. “You want to know where you stand with me? Gail, please, just stand
with
me! Come away. We’ll fly to Gretna Green and be married, and no one will tell us how to act or who to be ever again.”

It was so tempting. But…“You forget one thing, my Lord.” She removed herself from his grasp and turned away, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. “’Twas you yourself that knotted the string to Evangeline. And now you would leave her flapping in the breeze? My sister, my family, would never recover from that. They live by the rules of society you are so eager to disdain.”

Her stiff back to him, she looked to be made of solid rock—unmoving, and simply accepting of what happened around her.

“How can you be so accepting of this?” he asked, anger bunching his shoulders and pounding at his temples.

“I have had the last two weeks to become accustomed to the situation, my lord.”

Max shook his head. “Two weeks, two years, two decades, I should still not accept it. I can’t believe you’d give up so easily.”

“I never had you to give up,” she said dully.

He spoke softly now, so softly that Gail turned her head to catch his words, and in doing so, found his lips at her ear.

“You conceded your own happiness. You gave up on yourself. I will not.”

Before she could speak, before she could open her eyes, he was gone.

Twenty-nine

Count Roffstaam,

I am delighted to accept your invitation to visit Barivia. You have told me so much of its pastoral beauty that I simply will not rest until I have seen the whole. I shall arrange for passage as soon as…

A muted sound from the other side of her door interrupted Gail’s thoughts, and she lifted her quill. After returning from the park, she had immediately fished the count’s invitation out of her cluttered escritoire, and began composing a reply. She could not stay here. The entire situation was horribly botched, and she knew her only recourse was to escape. She refused to be the cause of her sister’s downfall. Besides, every time Gail laid eyes upon Max, a clamp closed down in her chest, and she found she could not breathe. Surely, it was unhealthy to stay.

He said he did not put the notice in the papers. She wanted to believe him. God, did she want to believe him. But to put faith in his words would mean to give herself hope, and she would not be able to bear it if it were ripped away again.

There it was again, that muffled noise. Curious, Gail rose from her desk. Yes, it must be coming from Evangeline’s room across the hall. It sounded like…someone crying?

Softly, she knocked on her sister’s door, but the only reply was a small gasp and the immediate ceasing of the sobs. Gail delicately turned the knob.

“Evie?” she said gently. “Are you well?”

Evangeline sat on her bed, the skirts of her afternoon dress pooled about her. She was clutching a piece of paper in one hand to her breast and a handkerchief with the other, trying to hid her sniffles, a picture of delicate, if splotchy, feminine distress.

“Oh, I…I’m fine, Gail.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

Gail marched over to her sister’s side. “Liar. Evie, you are normally very beautiful, but it’s a sad fact that such a pale complexion makes it rather simple for one to tell when you’ve been crying. And profusely.”

Evangeline gave a watery sniffle. Gail sat beside her, comfortingly putting an arm around her shoulders. This had the adverse effect of what was intended, causing more tears to fall.

“He—he’s leaving me! I thought I could do this, and…and he’s leaving!” Such statements were made between wrenching sobs. Gail stiffened as her heart began thumping a mile a minute. Evangeline, disregarding her own handkerchief, wiped her nose on her sister’s skirts.

“Wh—who’s leaving you—what did you think to do?” Gail inquired.

“Oh Gail! My life is over! I’ve been such a fool!” Evangeline replied, dashing tears away from her eyes, as Gail pulled away, her own gaze locked on that piece of paper at Evie’s breast.

Oh God, Gail’s mind raced. He must have told her.

“Evie, I’m so sorry!” Gail hurriedly stood, unable to stop the confession she had held in so long from flowing. “I…I…we didn’t intend for it to happen. I know I certainly didn’t, but Max, he made me laugh, and then he kissed me, and I saw one crow, and he saw one crow, and that makes two, and it
was
joy, but then he went away, and I’ve been so afraid of hurting you, but he said he loves me, and I said he’s engaged to you now and…I never wanted to hurt you at all.” Gail stopped babbling lamely, petering out of words.

Evangeline blinked large, owlish eyes at her sister, shocked into silence.

“Please,” Gail said meekly, “please say something. I’ll…I’ll go away if you want me to, I’ll cut off my arm, well, maybe a finger, if you require it of me, just say something. Please.”

Evangeline held up a hand.

“Let us be clear,” Evangeline said in measured breaths. “You…love Lord Longsbowe?”

“Yes,” Gail replied in a small voice.

“And he…loves you?”

“He says so,” she whispered, barely audible.

Then, after the space of a heartbeat, Evangeline burst out laughing.

It was Gail’s turn to blink owlishly, watching as her sister dissolved into giggles.

“Wha—what?” she sputtered.

“God above be praised!” Evangeline laughed, assuming a dramatic posture to thank her Lord and Master. “My sister loves Lord Longsbowe, so I don’t have to!”

“Evangeline!” Gail sat down on the bed, her legs no longer willing to support her. “You—you, didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t! And you have no idea how happy you’ve made me!” her sister replied cheerfully.

“But…but, you’ve been so pleased since the announcement. I thought you were looking forward to becoming a bride.”

“Well,” Evangeline sobered for a moment, “I was, in a way. All the congratulations, all the parties and well wishing—’tis very exciting. But in my heart, my resolve toward entering a loveless marriage deteriorated by the day.”

She giggled, relief flowing from her in invisible waves. It seemed that Gail had not been the only one burdened by secret feelings.

“But don’t you see? We can fix this now!” Evie continued. “Lord Longsbowe can’t mind my crying off if he’d rather marry you—and I would much rather…oh, Gail! Does he make you happy?”

“He makes me crazy. And happy. And it’s just so easy being with him.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like.” Evie’s voice shook with hope as Gail pulled her sister forward into a fierce hug.

“But I don’t understand! What made you cry so?” Gail said, releasing Evangeline from the rib-crushing embrace. “Who wrote that note, if not Max?” Gail’s eyes lit up. “Is it from—”

“Don’t worry about that now,” Evie interrupted, quickly folding the paper into her pocket before Gail could voice her suspicions. “You must tell me all about you and Lord Longsbowe. How did you come to love him? You two fought constantly!”

Too long had each been without the other’s confidence, that now their stories came tumbling out—the fears, the feelings, the happenings—and when Gail arrived at one specific occurrence in her narrative, Evangeline’s mouth dropped open in complete shock.

“You didn’t!”

“We did,” Gail replied, sheepishly blushing.

Gail courteously gave her sister a few moments to collect her jaw from the floor.

Once the shock receded, Evangeline smiled softly at Gail. “So, my cynical sister,” she said, “you have fallen head over heels in love.”

“Er…in a way,” Gail replied. “It was slower than that, and yet there are times when my mind reels at how quickly all this took place. I’ve known him less than two months, and I’ve known him forever.”

“Yes.” Evangeline’s smile became for herself alone. “I could not agree more.”

Before Gail could inquire about that intriguing remark and enigmatic smile, Evangeline stood with sudden determination and marched to her dressing table.

“Now,” she said as she began to brush errant locks of hair back into place, “let’s get ourselves unstuck from this quagmire, shall we?”

“Society will skin you alive if the engagement is broken.”

“Gail,” Evangeline said as she turned from the mirror, “we are actively pursuing our own happiness for once. Yours, and mine, and…everyone’s. We will talk to Father now. We are Alton women. Strong, intelligent—I for one refuse to consign myself to discontent without a fight.”

Evangeline stood, regal grandeur emanating from every inch of her petite frame, her hand discreetly fingering the folded note in her pocket. “And Society—”

“Can go jump in a lake?” Gail supplied, archly.

Evie smiled at her sister, who for the first time in a fortnight, could return it freely.

“Precisely.”

 


ABSOLUTELY
not,” Sir Geoffrey said, and returned his eyes to the paper in his hand.

They had found him in the library, the only place he was to be found in the house these days. Parliament and the clubs owned so much of his time, and there were always so many women visiting and flapping about Number Seven, that Sir Geoffrey retired to his library for solitude.

He was invariably interrupted.

First, his wife had entered,
without knocking
, asking to share the paper with him. As long as she read quietly and did not attempt to engage a tired man in conversation, Sir Geoffrey didn’t mind. But since she had joined him, perusing the society pages from her seat on the couch, Romilla had tried
three times
to ask his opinion on some silly matter. He was about to kick his beloved wife out of his masculine sanctuary when his daughters entered.

At least they had had the good sense to knock.

Evangeline, his eldest child, entered first, trailed by her sister. Both had looked serious and determined as Evangeline stated quite calmly that she no longer wished to marry the Earl of Longsbowe and would like to call off the engagement.

Once Sir Geoffrey had given his answer, he hoped it would be the end of the conversation. Unfortunately, the children did not share his hopes.

“Father, I do not believe you heard me correctly. I do not wish to marry Lord Longsbowe, nor shall I do so.”

“And I don’t believe you heard me, child.” Sir Geoffrey sighed as he looked over the top of his paper. “I refused to allow you to cry off.”

Evangeline fluttered wordlessly for a moment. She turned to Gail, who silently urged her sister on.

“N-no!” was the word Evangeline finally squeaked out.

Sir Geoffrey, seeing he was to remain in the company of his family for some time, calmly laid his paper aside. His wife owlishly watched the whole exchange from the settee.

“What is it, child? Is it nerves? That’s understandable, but not cause to call the whole thing off. The engagement will be a long one, what with Longsbowe still in mourning. Plenty of time to become accustomed to the idea. Now, if you like, you can take your sister to the shops and purchase some new pigments and canvas. Won’t that be nice?”

“Father, I will not become accustomed to the idea! I have come to the conclusion we will not suit—time will not change that!” Evangeline’s petite frame squared, she looked up at him with such self-righteous defiance, it only served to deepen his scowl.

“You suited each other well enough all those weeks ago in the conservatory. If you wanted to remove yourself from the situation then, we would have weathered it, but now, the scandal of throwing over Longsbowe would be ten times worse than before! I will not countenance it, neither will your mother.” He stood as he growled, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s face.

“Geoffrey,” Romilla spoke in a small voice from the couch, unheeded by her husband. The staring contest looked to be in Sir Geoffrey’s favor, cowing his daughter, but at the last moment, Evangeline found a final ounce of resolution.

“I do not love him,” she said with quiet strength.

Silence enveloped the library. They could have heard a feather fall, Sir Geoffrey was so shocked. He expected some silly sentimentality, but this! He had to laugh. His mirth began as a chuckle, soon becoming full-blown belly-clutching guffaws. Gail came and held her sister’s hand, all the ladies cringing.

“You don’t
love
him? Good Lord, child, did you expect to?” he said between laughs.

Evangeline’s sweet nature could not face down Sir Geoffrey any longer. She turned helpless eyes to her sister. Gail, whose temperament was much closer to his, stepped with flashing eyes into the fray.

“You are too cruel to force her. What if…what if their affections are engaged elsewhere? Does Evangeline not deserve to be loved by her husband? Does he not deserve the same in return?” She stood eye to eye with him, her own height much the same as his. He saw such strength there—it was an admirable thing. But not when defying what was best for all.

“Affections and feelings no longer bear weight! Don’t you see—it’s not a matter of what they deserve. It is a matter of what is at hand! Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. And it’s a chance they took when they agreed to become engaged to stave off a scandal nearly two months ago!” He turned nearly purple, his anger spewing forth.

It had been so much simpler when they were little girls. He’d adored having his daughters with him abroad. Evangeline and Gail had been angels, doing as he asked and not questioning. Now, they were home, and all there seemed to be were questions.

“Do you think any of us will be happy in this end?” Gail asked bitterly. Evangeline was silently sobbing behind her sister, who stared defiantly at her father. Sir Geoffrey sighed deeply, sagging against his desk. He hated yelling at his daughters. It cut him deeper than knives ever could.

“Of course I want Evangeline’s happiness,” he said calmly. “And, eventually, she will be happy, married to Longsbowe. This has moved too far forward to back out now.” He eyed his younger, fiercer daughter. “That is how it must be. My entire career is based on public appearance. Don’t you know how lucky we have been in London, Gail, especially after that botched affair in Lisbon? I am in the inner circle of the prime minister! If a taint besmirched our name now, in my new position, I would never be able to walk into Parliament again. Your mother should never be able to move about in society. Such an action is decidedly ungrateful.”

“My dear,” Romilla tried again from the couch, but one look from him kept her silent.

BOOK: Kate Noble
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