Read The School for Brides Online
Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith
The School for Brides (27 page)
He was a drug so heady she craved him the way some craved the demon drug, opium. He’d promised her nothing but pleasure, and he’d fulfilled that promise. Not once in their most private moments had he given her any reason to expect anything more than stolen bits of time.
Though he called her “love,” it was nothing more than an endearment in the moment of passion; a term of affection he used in the unguarded occasions when they were alone. Nicholas would never love her. He might feel affection, perhaps, but not love. It was not in him. He was practical. She was the slave to emotion.
Eva placed her hands over her face. He had cared for Arabella and he cared for her. She sensed it in the way he held her. But he came with limits. As long as she stayed within her boundaries, all was well. For the moment, he’d forgiven her for attending the ball. Once his mind cleared, he would be angry for her impertinence. He’d likely irreparably damaged his arrangement with Lucy. He’d not forgive her for that, as he had not forgiven her for losing Arabella.
She was the cause of both losses.
There was only one thing she could do.
Chapter Fifteen
N
o news of Yvette, Miss Eva?” Abigail said as they settled down for tea. The four young women were very worried. Days had passed since their friend disappeared, and they all felt her absence. With the passage of time it became difficult to finish their lessons and to keep focused on the last details of their instruction. They were ready to be matched. Eva was pleased with how hard each of them had worked and the changes in all of them.
o news of Yvette, Miss Eva?” Abigail said as they settled down for tea. The four young women were very worried. Days had passed since their friend disappeared, and they all felt her absence. With the passage of time it became difficult to finish their lessons and to keep focused on the last details of their instruction. They were ready to be matched. Eva was pleased with how hard each of them had worked and the changes in all of them.
Even the book met with little enthusiasm when Eva suggested one last look in case there was anyone they might have missed. The party was a week away, and though they’d each chosen two men to invite, and Eva included several choices of her own, their concern for Yvette overshadowed the party.
Eva had hoped to withhold the information she’d received from Mister Crawford this morning until she had news. However, the fearful faces left her no choice but to tell them about the report. The women deserved the truth.
“The investigator has discovered the identity of Yvette’s lover and has gone to his country home to have a look around. He has given me the man’s name, and I have hope we will soon learn if Yvette has been seen there.” Eva did her best to hide her worry. It was her greatest wish to find Yvette alive. “There was no sign of her at his town house.”
“If the investigator finds her, what then?” Sophie plucked at the lace edging of her pink gown until the piece frayed. She smoothed it down and clasped her hands. “What if her lover has locked her in a tower and plans to starve her? What if she is chained in a cellar with rats?”
“Oh, dear.” Rose’s lips trembled, and she pressed a knuckle to her mouth. “What if he has sold her to slavers? She might end up in some far-off place and never be seen again.”
Eva lifted her hands. She had to restore order before they worked themselves into a frenzy. “Ladies, please. We must not overwork our imaginations.” Their minds had clearly sent their speculation in all sorts of dark directions. “To be of any use to Yvette, we must think positive thoughts.“
“Miss Eva is right,” Abigail offered. “We must allow the investigator to discover some clues. It is quite possible she has not been kidnapped at all. Perhaps she has found a new protector and is happy.”
“We all hope for her happiness, Abigail.” As Eva sipped her tea, a possible answer to the dilemma formed.
For the past two days, she had been avoiding the duke. He’d sent around a note, but she had refused to accept it. The only way to forget him was avoidance. Once he realized she was no longer available to him, he’d propose to his Lucy and get about the business of marriage.
But now, if Yvette was held being captive, Eva might have to visit His Grace one last time for help. He would know someone who could rescue her. Maybe enlist the Bow Street Runners.
Her heart ached for Nicholas, and she did her best to ignore the pain. It would be a constant presence once the final break was made and her heart was left in bits. She might as well get used to it now. They had no future.
Rose nodded. “I think we should choose two suitors for her. There was one man, a merchant, she seemed drawn to. Perhaps we can find another.” She retrieved the book. The other women gathered around her as she turned the pages. “See, this one. He is a mature man of forty. He owns a tea shop and travels frequently to France to visit his brother. Yvette’s mother was French.”
“He is a fine choice,” Pauline agreed as she turned the page. “And this one. He, too, is in his forties, widowed, with grown children. He seeks a companion to help fill his days.” She smiled. “He might be perfect for Yvette.”
“He very well might,” Sophie agreed.
“Turn the page. I think I know of another,” Abigail said. Excitement grew. “I believe there was a shopkeeper near the back. He was widowed and his children are also grown.”
The women chattered happily as they examined all the men as possible husbands for Yvette. Eva was relieved that they had found something to focus on besides dark speculation about Yvette’s fate.
“Turn to the last page,” Eva said. “Just yesterday I added an American shipbuilder. He was recommended to me by Mister Jones.” Pages ruffled, and several sighs followed. “The American plans to move his company to London and he is quite prosperous. I think we should consider sending him an invitation.”
“He is handsome,” said Pauline.
“Very much so,” added Rose.
“He has an impeccable reputation. I have been assured of that.”
“Then he must be included,” Sophie said firmly. “We shall have to make a list and whittle it down to the best two”—she looked at Eva—“or three.”
Eva smiled. Her courtesans had turned from objects of pleasure to young women of superior manners and quality. The men on her invitation list would be pleased with such a fine group, from the stunning Rose to the subtle beauty of Abigail. She could only pray for Yvette’s rescue and successful matches for all five women.
“We must quickly finalize Yvette’s list.” Eva poured more tea. “I will send out the invitations tomorrow.”
T
he next day, with the invitations sent, Eva went over the party menu with Cook. Since the gathering would be small, and in mid afternoon, there was no need to offer an elaborate meal. Tea, cakes, punch, and sandwiches would feed the guests nicely. And of course food was always a possible topic of conversation when one had to fill long stretches of silence.
he next day, with the invitations sent, Eva went over the party menu with Cook. Since the gathering would be small, and in mid afternoon, there was no need to offer an elaborate meal. Tea, cakes, punch, and sandwiches would feed the guests nicely. And of course food was always a possible topic of conversation when one had to fill long stretches of silence.
Eva knew from previous experience that there would be very little eating. Though there wasn’t pressure to choose a mate at the party, there was always anxiety the first time her former courtesans put their lessons to use.
How could there not be? This was the culmination of all their hard work. The women had been beautiful and charming from the first; Eva had just given them tools to pave a path to marriage. They would be tested, if only in their own minds, and each felt the strain.
Harold had taken the women to their final fittings for the dresses they would wear to the party. The excitement of the impending event was dampened slightly by Yvette’s absence, yet there was lingering hope she would be found and returned to them in time. The women clung to that hope and forced themselves to continue as planned.
Eva wasn’t sure of anything outside her own situation. She, too, forced herself to press through her days in a fog. She was unsettled and grim, as if a black cloud was following her and she could not outrun it.
She deeply missed His Grace. More than she had ever expected she would. She’d never been in love before. She struggled daily with the complications of that unwelcome emotion.
Prayers for Mister Crawford’s swift return went unanswered. The wait was grueling. If all went well, the investigator would find and rescue Yvette, and Eva wouldn’t have to face Nicholas again. Each time she saw his handsome face, it was a blow to her heart.
It was three days into her self-imposed removal from Nicholas’s life, and she was short-tempered and grumpy. She was constantly biting her tongue so as not to snap at everyone, including her mother, over every little inconvenience.
What she desired most was to take to her bed for a fortnight, and weep and wail until Nicholas was washed away by her tears. He was likely engaged by now and looking forward to his wedding night. She could not see him allowing weeds to grow beneath his feet while his reluctant courtesan hid from him. He’d want to get Lucy quickly settled as his intended bride before another man had the chance to woo her away; then begin a search for a new lover. Men of his ilk never settled for the love of a wife. He’d seek a courtesan to warm his bed.
The kitchen suddenly felt very hot, and her head swam. She dropped the menu and whispered, “Excuse me.”
To Cook’s surprise, Eva rushed out the back door into the garden. Fearing she was about to be ill, she sucked in deep, damp breaths until her stomach settled.
It was cool and cloudy; not the sort of day to stroll through the garden. She felt an invisible sheen of moisture settle on her bare arms and face. The first spring flowers were in full bloom against the bleak backdrop, but she did not give them more than a dismissive glance. She hurried to the nearest stone bench and dropped onto its damp surface.
Tears threatened. Unhappiness settled inside her. The idea of Nicholas married was more than she could accept under the weight of frayed emotions. The only bed he should be sharing was hers! His children should be hers!
“Eva?”
Startled, she jerked her head up. Through the tears welling in her eyes, she saw Nicholas coming up the path with the brisk strides of a confident nobleman. He wore a hat and cloak to fend off the threatening rain. She feasted on the sight of him as he drew close.
Quickly, she brushed her hand over her cheeks and stood. He must not see her pain.
“Your Grace.” Her heart leapt as she peered into his face. She wanted to run into his arms, kiss him, and touch him all over to assure herself he was not imagined. But she kept her feet planted where they were. “This is the second time you have come here uninvited, Your Grace. I will not have it.”
His jaw tightened at her curt words. “I was concerned when you didn’t reply to my message. I feared you had fallen ill.” He examined her briefly. His lips thinned. “I see you are in good health.”
She braced herself for what needed to be done. “I think it best for all if we end our association, Your Grace. My sister is unhappy, I am unhappy, and soon you will be wed. Your Lucy will certainly be unhappy if you continue to bed me.”
“Lucy has no bearing on the relationship between you and me, Eva,” he said tightly. “I have not asked for her hand.”
“But you will.” Eva sighed. Why couldn’t he leave her alone? Couldn’t he see how difficult this was for her? “Either her or another blue blood like her. You have a family branch to fill out, and your mother will not be satisfied until she has a full dozen grandchildren to spoil.”
“You do not know my mother’s wishes.” He tapped his riding crop on his boot and tipped his face toward the leaden clouds. “She has not once mentioned Lucy since the ball. In fact, she has not mentioned marriage at all.”
Eva let out a harsh breath. She desperately hoped she had no part in his mother’s attitude change. She didn’t want to add the duchess to the list of people hurt by her actions.
“It doesn’t matter which woman you choose; the end will inevitably be the same. Your marriage. Since I have come into your life, I have stolen your courtesan, I have invaded your world, and quite possibly have prevented your engagement. I think it best if you return to Collingwood House and forget you ever knew me.” She locked and unlocked her hands together. “I will pay you monthly until my debt is cleared, even if it takes a hundred years.”
“You think I care about the damned debt?” His voice boomed over her. She jumped. He scowled. “The town house has been gifted to you in your name, so your mother cannot borrow against it again. The rest of the debts will be paid once I have an accounting of them in entirety.” He reached down to take her hand and drew her to her feet. “I made a mistake when I forced you to become my mistress through threats of debtors’ prison.”
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