The Price of Temptation (31 page)
“T
he Honorable Sinjon and Mrs. Rutherford!” Charlotte’s butler announced as they entered the Somerson ballroom. Every eye in the room turned to watch as they made their way down the steps. Evelyn’s heart lodged in her throat, but this time she wasn’t alone.
“I suppose that marks the first time you’ve been officially announced as Mrs. Rutherford,” Sinjon murmured as he scanned the faces below them. “Do you suppose that’s what’s shocked them?”
“I suppose we’d better enjoy the attention. It will be the last time we make so grand an entrance for quite some time to come.” Evelyn sighed, pleased by the thought.
“We could still change our plans,” Sinjon said. “If you wish to keep Renshaw House, we could spend time in Town. I can still accept Westlake’s offer of the position at Horse Guards.”
“I thought you were content to sell your commission and live in the country!”
He squeezed her hand. “I would live anywhere with you, Evelyn, and be very happy.”
He let go of her arm just long enough to bow to the Somersons. Evelyn dipped a curtsy, and kissed her sister on the cheek.
“I suppose congratulations are in order, Rutherford,” Somerson said dryly. “I hear your court-martial was concluded in your favor.”
“The marriage,” Charlotte hissed, elbowing her husband.
“Yes, and that.” The earl frowned. “You really should have come and asked permission of Evelyn’s family. There has been enough scandal surrounding her name without this hasty, slapped-up marriage. You should have allowed a proper period of mourning.”
Evelyn frowned. “I was apart from Philip for over a year. I saw no need to wait any longer to continue with my life.”
Somerson looked pained. “There’s little we can do now but wish you a happy life together. You should thank me. It was only my tireless effort on your behalf that ensured you were allowed to keep Linwood, Evelyn.”
“Then I thank you, my lord,” Evelyn said, curtsying again, though everyone present knew it had little to do with Somerson.
“Tell them.” Charlotte elbowed Somerson again.
“Since your brother is marrying my daughter, Rutherford, we will be bound rather tightly by blood on both sides. Since you are selling Renshaw House, you will need a place to stay when you come to Town. You will be welcome here at Somerson House.”
“We won’t be coming to Town at all for some time,” Evelyn said, and Charlotte’s jaw dropped into her chins.
“But you’ll want to come for the Season in the spring!”
Evelyn leaned in and whispered in Charlotte’s ear. Charlotte staggered backward in surprise. Somerson caught her.
“Can you be sure?” Charlotte croaked. “It’s only been a month since your wedding! You were married to Philip for years and did not conceive!”
“I’m very sure,” Evelyn said proudly.
“Well, if you won’t come to London, we shall certainly come to Linwood,” Charlotte said.
“I’m afraid that will be impossible,” Sinjon said firmly. “We’ll be enjoying an extended honeymoon for some time to come.”
“How long?” Charlotte sputtered.
Sinjon smiled at Evelyn, his eyes so full of love that her heart flipped in her chest.
“About twenty years should suffice.” He bowed and they took their leave of the Somersons.
Marianne and Adam Westlake approached them. “Congratulations!” Marianne gushed, kissing Evelyn. “I told Adam you were in love, but he thought it was something else entirely. He doesn’t know love in others when he sees it, I’m afraid. It is up to me to see that he does not miss the finer points of life!”
Adam bowed over Evelyn’s hand. “Congratulations, my lady. Rutherford, is there any way I can convince you to take the post at Horse Guards? There is an important matter at hand you could assist with.”
Evelyn watched Sinjon shake his head. “You have my thanks for your assistance in proving my innocence, among other things.”
“What other things?” Marianne pounced.
“Nothing at all, my dear,” Adam said blandly. “Why is it that women always assume a man is involved in something sinister?”
“I know for a fact you have a romantic soul, Adam. I suppose you will never admit you were instrumental in bringing Evelyn and Sinjon together, or tell me the tale.”
Westlake took her arm. “Come, Marianne, there’s a waltz starting,” he said, and led his wife away.
L
ady Caroline Forrester watched her cousin Lottie dance with her fiancé. She had seen William Rutherford’s coach pull up at Somerson house a week ago. She’d sat in her room and waited to be summoned to her half brother’s study to be told that Viscount Mears had asked for her hand in marriage. Instead, Lottie had burst into her room and told Caroline that William had offered for
her
.
Caroline had done her best to be happy for her cousin. Now Sinjon, her first love, the man she had once dreamed of marrying, was also married to someone else.
She watched him whirl Evelyn Renshaw—Evelyn Rutherford—around the dance floor, looking at her with so much love that Caroline thought her own heart would burst. Sinjon had certainly never looked at her like that. She supposed it was a case of growing up too close to the Rutherford family. They saw her more as a sister than a wife.
“Will you dance, Lady Caroline?” It was Lord Arthur Peavey, Viscount Kingsland. He was dull, doughy, and definitely interested in a family connection to the Earl of Somerson, despite the fact that he had received no encouragement from Caroline at all. Still, there was no way to refuse him graciously. She forced a smile and let him lead her out.
E
velyn watched her sisters descend upon her like a flock of yellow birds of prey. “We’ve been desperately waiting for you to come back to Town!” Eloisa said, slipping her arm through Evelyn’s. “Is it true what they’re saying about Philip? Oh, to die in such a way!”
“What have you heard?” Evelyn asked.
“They say he appeared at Renshaw House in the dark of night, and was apprehended by members of the Prince Regent’s own Life Guards! You must have been terrified!” Charlotte cried.
Evelyn opened her mouth to reply, but Eloisa answered first.
“Yes, but according to my dear friend Lady Penshurst, he was followed there by
French agents,
men sent by the Emperor himself!”
Lucy’s eyes were like saucers. “Truly, Evie? What did Philip say to you?”
“Well—” Evelyn began, but Charlotte laid a hand on her chest.
“It was that footman of hers, the one we said she should fire. He drove them out of the house with a fireplace poker, and chased them all the way to the docks. Philip was shot dead and the Frenchmen were captured.” She tilted her head and looked at Evelyn. “Whatever happened to that footman?”
All three of her sisters stared at her, Charlotte’s eyes narrowed in speculation, Lucy’s wide with curiosity, Eloisa’s shiny with pleasure at the gossip.
Over her sisters’ shoulders, Evelyn saw Sinjon approaching, and her breath caught in her throat. “I’m afraid I fired him after all.”
Her sisters gasped. “You fired such a hero?”
Evelyn’s eyes were on Sinjon, her body warm at the unspoken message that he conveyed with just a smile. She couldn’t wait for the party to end.
“He was a soldier, and he wasn’t suited to the post,” she explained, and stepped between her siblings to take her husband’s hand.
E
velyn’s sisters watched her leave. “Well! I wonder if there are any heroes among my staff?” Charlotte mused, and looked around at the liveried lads serving champagne and standing at attention around the room.
“I doubt it,” Eloisa said. “They all look as dull as wood pigeons.”
“You never know,” Lucy said. “Things are not always what they seem, and under their livery—”
“Under their livery?” Charlotte spluttered, and plied her fan. “What a dreadful thought!”
Eloisa frowned. “Wasn’t there a story going around about a lady and her footman?”
“See? Dreadful!” Charlotte croaked again.
“Maybe not,” Lucy murmured, her eyes on Evelyn and Sinjon. “Perhaps the best secrets are hidden in plain sight, if you know where to look.” She gave her sisters an arch smile and sauntered away.
“Whatever did that mean?” Eloisa squawked.
Charlotte shook her head, equally baffled. They watched as Evelyn swept past, laughing up at her handsome new husband.
“He hasn’t even got a title!” Charlotte moaned.
“And imagine marrying for love. How ridiculous!” Eloisa replied.
Sinjon leaned close to his wife’s ear, and Evelyn laughed again, blushing an intimate and very becoming shade of pink. “She’s never looked prettier,” Eloisa said.
“Or happier,” Charlotte replied. “And she’s not even wearing yellow.”
They sighed in unison.
Perhaps marrying for love wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
IATE
S
TEHLIK
LECIA CORNWALL lives and writes in Calgary, Canada, amid the beautiful foothills of the Canadian Rockies, with four cats, two teenagers, a crazy chocolate Lab, and one very patient husband. She is hard at work on her next book. Come visit Lecia at
www.leciacornwall.com
.
Visit
www.AuthorTracker.com
for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
