The Perfect Suitor (Bewildering Love Series) (15 page)

Like most of the staff, James was well aware of the countess’s resentment toward her son’s bachelorhood. She felt it Paxton’s duty to beget an heir, and she deemed his lack of concern for fulfilling that duty disrespectful to his father and unappreciative to his title. Since servants were aware of the importance of maintaining the lineage, she saw no reason not to speak of her irritation.

“I would like some tea, James, and see that my daughter is fetched.” Veronica waved him off to do her bidding. When he continued to stand there, she lifted her brow in question. “Well, what is it now, James?”

“I regret to inform you that Lady Lydia is not in the residence, madam. She has chosen to stay with your niece the Duchess of Arlington to help with redecorating.” James backed up a few steps after this announcement.

“I travel all the way from Bath and you are telling me that neither of my children are here to greet me?” She scowled. “And it’s cold in here.”

“I will have a fire lit.” James immediately began to stack wood on the grate.

***

A couple of hours later, James was ready to quit his beloved position. The countess was making so many changes that his head was spinning. She kept shoving lists of things she needed into his hands, things she wanted done to the manor, things that had to be immediately moved to the attic, and foods that she wanted prepared. Amidst all this chaos there was a knock at the door. James was happy for a respite, however short, and went to open the door.

He was shocked to find a trembling woman standing alone on the landing. Her skirts were soiled and a few leaves held onto the hemline. “Yes?” he asked, looking down his nose at her, indicating his displeasure at finding an unchaperoned and filthy woman on the stoop.

***

Eve nodded at the Earl of Devonhurst’s discerning butler. She was well aware that it was strictly forbidden for a lady of quality to approach a man’s residence unescorted, but at this point, she could not have cared less about the proprieties of Society. Her life was at stake. “Is his lordship home?”

The butler looked affronted and he glared at her with obvious disdain. “This is a respectful household. Take yourself elsewhere.” He went to close the door in her face but she threw her body into the door. The butler’s mouth fell open in surprise.

Eve was growing angrier by the second. She was scared and she needed help. She could not allow this man to turn her away. “Listen, if you don’t admit me, I will sit on this porch all night shouting continually for his lordship. Is that the kind of attention you want for your respectful household?” Eve’s voice dripped sarcasm.

She nearly smiled when the butler sputtered in response, not knowing how to respond to her threat.

“For goodness sakes, James, who is it?” a voice asked.

“It is nothing to concern yourself with, my lady,” the butler answered over his shoulder, trying to block the woman from Eve’s view.

Eve leaned more heavily on the door. “Who is that if not his lordship’s guest?” She pushed harder trying to see inside the house.

The butler tried to hold back the door, but the person behind him had approached and obviously yanked it open. Eve fell into the entryway. She scrambled to her feet and quickly dusted herself off to find dozens of eyes staring at her.

“All of you back to work!” the butler shouted at the curious staff.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Eve found herself face to face with the Countess of Devonhurst, Veronica Witley, Paxton and Lydia’s mother. She noted that the countess didn’t share much resemblance to her dark-haired children. She was fair skinned with blond hair and blue eyes, but she was petite in frame like her daughter. Eve thought she looked too young to have given birth to Paxton and Lydia. She wouldn’t have even guessed it was their mother if the stuffy butler didn’t immediately announce her presence after Eve had picked herself up from the floor.

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” Eve curtsied formally, feeling very self-conscious.

“James, who is this…this woman?” the countess questioned the butler with distaste, refusing to glance in Eve’s direction.

James turned inquiring eyes on the intruder.

“I am Lady Evelyn Manning. My father is the third Viscount of Stonehaven.” Eve hoped the lady might know her father.

“Charles and Madeline’s daughter?” She circled around Eve like a hawk does its prey. “Preposterous. I think not.”

Eve didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t as if she had proof of her identity.

“James, remove this strumpet from my sight.” Obviously, the countess refused to give Evelyn any more of her time. Her labeling of Eve’s character was beyond frustrating and unnecessarily rude.

James went to take Eve by the arm, but she pulled away in outrage. “Now see here, I am…”

Veronica dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “See, James. It is precisely women like this that are preventing my son from marrying. Stopping by at all hours of the night, and without an escort no less. Shameless. What is this world coming too? My son doesn’t even have to leave his home to find female companionship. It is a good thing I arrived when I did. Someone has to put a stop to this tomfoolery!” After this offensive reprimand, the countess turned to leave.

“May I ask why you don’t believe I am Lady Evelyn Manning?” she asked loudly to the countess’s retreating back.

“Your disheveled attire fairly shouts your origins.” The countess did not turn around to look at her when she said this. She merely walked off into another room and closed the door.

For the first time since she left the party, Eve turned to look at herself in the foyer mirror and gasped as she backed up to take in the length of her dress. Her skirt was torn on one side and her hem was covered with dirt. She pulled off a couple of dry leaves and crunched them in her dirty glove. She had obviously lost some hairpins, for her hair kept falling in her face.

“She’s right.” Eve wondered who would help her now. Her eyes filled with tears.

“My lady,” said the butler, and she looked up at the title he gave her. “I speak the truth when I say his lordship isn’t home, nor do I know his whereabouts. If you’d like to leave a calling card I will see that he receives it.”

Eve felt like yelling that if she had a calling card she would have provided it the moment her identity was called into question. Feeling deflated and attacked, she nodded. “Do you have some foolscap and a quill so I can leave a note?”

He returned shortly with the supplies.

With shaky hands, Eve scribbled.

Paxton,

Don’t know where to go.

Serious danger with Count Vernon.

Try to reach you again later.

Eve

***

Paxton stormed into White’s in a rage. Eve was making him mad as a hatter. He drank down several shots of bourbon, but nothing dimmed the vivid picture of Eve kissing Henri Leverett, her ample breasts pressed against the slimy Frenchman as the disgusting count moaned with pleasure, a sound that still seemed to echo in Paxton’s ears. With these thoughts playing repeatedly in his head, he was oblivious to the roar of outrage and disappointment flooding the room.

Cole approached Paxton as soon as he sat down at a table. “Can you believe it? They should have hanged him.”

Paxton grunted. “The woman is a temptress. Besides, you can’t hang him for kissing her.”

Cole’s brow scrunched as he appeared to mull that over. “Are you even aware of what happened?”

Paxton knew it had to be serious from the way Cole was acting. “From the look on your face, I would have to say I’m not. What is it?”

“Bonaparte escaped Elba.” Cole took a seat.

Paxton leaned forward, giving Cole his full attention. “When did this happen?”

“Earlier today. We thought it mere rumor at first, but we now know it is factual, and hence the reason most people are only now finding out.” Cole ordered them both a drink. “Bonaparte was escorted by a thousand of his old guard. They made a triumphal march on Paris. I was told he picked up more and more support along the way. An eyewitness said many veteran soldiers are rallying to his side. As you can likely construe, Louie has fled.

“It is said that Bonaparte was encouraged to escape the island prison due to the numerous reports of unrest in France. He has already proclaimed his restored empire will be different, and it’s rumored that he is at this moment making amendments to the constitution that will guarantee political freedoms. If that’s true, some of France’s leading liberals may decide to side with the bastard. He is cunning and knows one quick military victory would compel most countries to accept his return.

“As of this morning, General Wellington was serving as Ambassador for Britain under the Bourbons, but as you have most likely assumed, Bonaparte’s escape has him home and back into military service.”

“In other words, war has commenced,” Paxton stated.

“Exactly.”

“Let’s pray casualties are few and trade is left alone this time,” Paxton replied, referring to when Bonaparte forbade Europe to trade with Britain, which in turn forced Britain to counter-blockade Bonaparte’s European ports, which then led Britain to war with the United States.

War was not only messy, it always seemed like a no win situation. All involved would lose men, and many would have to reconstruct after the destruction, whether said destruction came in the form of depleted finances or an overhaul of the government.

After a short period of silence, Cole asked, “So what did
she
do?”

“Why do you assume she did something wrong?”

Cole laughed. “Give me some credit, Paxton. Do you not realize that the only time you show yourself at the club is when you are bothered by something or someone? Besides, when I walked up I could have sworn I heard something about a kiss.”

“She knows Count Vernon is a spy, and the stubborn and patriotic woman plans to gather evidence of her claims. I ordered her to stop her investigation, but being a female, she of course ignored my warning. Then, later, I found her on the Talesman’s veranda kissing the damn man.

“Count Vernon left her there and walked off through the garden to God-knows-where, and so I decided to find out what was going on in her head. Well I found out all right. She couldn’t stop boasting about the kiss and how much she enjoyed it.”

“Not something you wanted to hear from the woman you basically told to look for marriage anywhere but near you.”

Paxton shot him a venomous look.

“What did you do then?” Cole knew Paxton well enough to believe there was more to it.

“I left.”

“You what?”

“I was damn near to throttling the woman. How dare she lead me on a merry chase, all the while carrying on with the count in such a way. As I’ve told you time and again my friend, never trust a woman.”

“Cease, Paxton. Lady Evelyn is nothing like Lady Beverly. I’m sure her friendly encounter with the count is part of her plan to gain his trust. You can’t think her intentions toward you false. Hell’s teeth! Have you ever noticed the way she looks up at you like you are the stars and moon?” Cole shook his head in exasperation. “Regardless as to which man she favors, I agree you’re wise to be concerned for her safety. Who knows what Count Vernon will do with Bonaparte back on the throne.”

“Perchance he’ll leave to return to his fierce leader’s side,” Paxton stated.

Cole nodded. “Let’s hope. Until then, it’s probably best if you keep a close eye on Lady Evelyn and make sure she stays out of harm’s way.”

Paxton agreed, sure that, by now, Eve was home and tucked safely in her bed where she belonged.

***

“Where should I go?” Eve stood on Paxton’s porch glancing from left to right. She considered going home but knew it was the first place Henri would look, and she did not want to put her parents in any danger. She thought she could likely find where the Duke and Duchess of Arlington lived, but she didn’t want to put them in danger either. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably with fear, and the cold night seemed to grow colder and darker as the fog poured in. Numbly, Eve descended the two steps and walked to the end of the pavers. The night was eerily quiet and there was no one in sight. She wondered if Henri was out there watching her. The mere thought made her shiver.
Where the devil is Paxton?
She contemplated her options. She could hide in the park and watch his house, awaiting his return, but who knew when that would be.

Perhaps Paxton went to the authorities with her concerns, which was exactly where she decided she should go. First, she had to head to Westminster and then to Downing Street where the Prime minister lived. Surely the constable’s office would be nearby.

As she made her way down the street, Eve kept turning around to see if Henri was following her. The uneasy feeling that he was nearby wouldn’t go away and she increased her pace. If she was correct in her directions, she was still a ways from Downing Street. Her heart was beating so frantically that she swore it was going to beat its way out of her chest. Tears were close to the surface as she contemplated the stupidity of her actions and the fact that she hadn’t listened to Paxton’s warnings.

There was a noise behind her followed by the hiss of a cat, and Eve practically jumped out of her skin as she turned and peered into the darkness to locate the source. She passed dozens of green squares, which sat in front of many London homes. Due to their tall hedges, she was unable to see inside these park-like settings. She thought the cat was in one of the squares across the street.

As she continued to walk on, her eyes darted back and forth. When she reached a main thoroughfare, she noticed a parked hackney on one of the corners near a gaslight. Relief washed through her as she desperately ran up to the vehicle, but her heart sank when she found it empty. She looked around for the driver, but he was nowhere in sight. Circling around to the front, she rubbed the nose of the skinny mare. “Where’s your owner?”

She tried not to panic when she spotted a black-caped person in the distance heading straight toward her. She couldn’t tell if it was Henri, but she had a sickening feeling that she should run. Not thinking of the consequences of the crime she was about to commit, she jumped up into the driver’s seat and pumped the reins against the animal’s rump. As she sped away, she looked back to find the figure had disappeared.
Where did he go?
She now wondered if her fear had conjured the caped person and tried to calm herself with words of encouragement as the carriage rattled over the cobblestones.

When she could not recognize any of her surroundings after several minutes of travel, she concluded that she was lost and the tears she had held back earlier silently coursed down her cheeks. Then a pack of dogs ran out in front of the carriage, spooking the mare and sending Eve sailing over the horse with a hard thud. It took her a minute to regain her breath and realize she was lying on the ground.

It was the opportunity Henri had been waiting for. He jumped from the horse he had likely stolen and grabbed Eve by her hair. Whipping her head back, he spat, “Listen here, you English bitch. I don’t have time for all these theatrics! You shouldn’t have stuck your nose into a matter that didn’t concern you!” Henri yanked her to her feet by her arms and then tied her wrists together with his handkerchief.

Eve refused to cry out from his brutality but her tears fell to the ground. “Let go of me!” she finally yelled, although she was well aware her request was undoubtedly out of the question.

“I will,
ma petite
, as soon as I make sure you can’t harm me with your talkative tongue.”

Eve trembled with dread. “You’re going to kill me.” She sucked in a deep breath and screamed as loud as she could for help, but when she looked around and recognized that they were on the docks, she knew no help would come to her. People tried to mind their own business in this part of town or they paid for it with their lives. She couldn’t think of a worst spot to die. The pungent smell of the Thames assaulted her nose. God only knew what was dwelling in those waters, but she didn’t want her lifeless body added to it.

“I may cut out your tongue!” He tightened the knots on her wrists. “Killing you would be messy, and in case you haven’t observed, messy is not my style, which is lucky for you, since my partner would have sliced that pretty neck of yours without a qualm.”

He dragged her to the door of the vehicle and glared at her as he opened the door. He laughed when she straightened her shoulders defiantly.

“This can be done the easy way or hard way. The choice is yours.”