Read Wonderful Online

Authors: Cheryl Holt

Wonderful (14 page)

BOOK: Wonderful
5.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

*    *    *    *

Evangeline paced in her sitting room. She’d stare at the door, then pace, then stare at the door, but no matter how fervidly she tried to conjure Aaron Drake, he didn’t appear.

She’d been positive he would.

When he’d entered the music room, she’d nearly shrieked with delight. She’d been that happy about his arrival. She knew she shouldn’t be glad, that it was wrong and misguided and dangerous, but she couldn’t help it.

It had been two hours since she’d left him in the parlor, drinking brandy with Bryce. Would he visit her? He had to! If he didn’t, how would she bear it?

Suddenly, footsteps hurried down the hall. They were heavy, male, halting right outside. She ran over and jerked the door open.

“Lord Run!”

“Hello, Evangeline.”

“Get in here before someone sees you.”

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside. There was an eerie sense of destiny in the air, as if their futures had aligned, as if their paths had been leading them in one direction, but had abruptly pushed them in another. They’d never be able to go back to the route they’d previously pursued.

“Why are you at Fox Run?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”

“I will, but don’t you dare gloat.”

“Just say it.”

“I missed you.”

“I knew it,” she cockily said.

“Come here.”

He held out his arms, and she leapt into them. Then he was kissing her so forcefully she wondered if they’d ever stop. It was wild and feral, out of control, beyond what she could imagine or describe.

She’d known that adults kissed each other.
She
had been kissed before. She’d been kissed by
him
before, but none of it had prepared her for such an explosion of passion.

She felt as if he’d been away for years, as if he’d been lost and wandering and had finally found his way home. Issues of morality, of her engagement to his cousin, flew out the window. She simply didn’t care about anything but this moment and this man and the undiluted elation he generated.

“Why did you stay downstairs so long?” she inquired when she could take a breath.

“Bryce wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t escape.”

“How could you make me wait?”

“I wanted you impatient and chafing with temper.”

“I am chafing,” she said. “I absolutely am.”

He picked her up and spun them, and he proceeded into her bedchamber. As he dropped her onto the bed, as he followed her down, she was laughing, merry, content beyond measure, and she wouldn’t spend a single second worrying about how she was sinning.

When he made her so happy, when the very air seemed to sizzle with their proximity, how could their conduct be wrong?

He rolled on top of her, and they were nose to nose, their bodies touching from foreheads to toes.

“I leave for a few days,” he told her, “and I come back to find that you’ve charmed my friends and corrupted my servants.”

“I enjoyed every minute of it too!”

“Should I scold you for your riotous behavior?”

“No. You should be grateful that I decided to liven up this drafty old place.”

“I am grateful, Miss Etherton.”

“Are you really? Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it.”

“You’re not upset, are you? That I took liberties? Especially with the servants.”

“I didn’t realize they could sing.”

“I was at church on Sunday, and they were all in the choir. They were so good I couldn’t believe it.”

“You may press them into your service whenever you wish. They’re all half in love with you—particularly the footmen. If I refused to let them cavort with you, I’d likely have a mutiny on my hands.”

“You’re being awfully kind.”

“I’m not usually, but with all your energy flowing through the halls, you make me feel dull and stodgy.”

“Stodgy? You? Never.”

“I’m trying new things lately. I have to become more rambunctious so I’m more like you.”

They chuckled, their banter dwindling to a halt. They were grinning, staring, and as Evangeline gazed into his blue eyes, it seemed as if her heart was swelling in her chest, as if it no longer fit between her ribs.

Fondness was burgeoning, beginning to grow. Where would it lead? Where would it end?

They were from completely different stations in life, and if she had any antecedents that would recommend her to him, she wasn’t aware of what they might be. Miss Peabody had always claimed there was no evidence as to Evangeline’s parents, so she had no history to indicate a relationship should form.

Despite how she was betraying the vicar and racing away from her betrothal, she was a very moral person. Lord Run had asked her to debase herself with an affair, which she would never consider. And societal restrictions would never allow them to marry.

But when he smiled at her like that…

Oh, my! What was she to think?

Was there another road they could travel together? What might it be? If he appeared so smitten after such scant acquaintance, what might transpire after a prolonged association? Might he eventually lower himself to wed her?

She didn’t suppose it was possible, but why couldn’t she hope for it? Why couldn’t she set out to entice him, to win him?

Occasionally—not often, but occasionally—there were men of his rank who did the unexpected, who married the governess or the nanny or the poor cousin. They fell in love and couldn’t help themselves.

Why couldn’t that occur for Evangeline? Why shouldn’t she shoot for the moon?

She’d always dreamed big dreams, but had never been in a position to chase after them. Yet she was an adult now, floating free from her past, and about to break her engagement to the vicar. She’d written to Rose and Amelia to ask their advice, to beg their assistance. As soon as she heard back and was certain she had someplace to go, she’d inform Vicar Bosworth of her decision.

Maybe, if she played her cards right, she wouldn’t have to ever leave Fox Run. She wouldn’t need rescue from Rose or Amelia. Why shouldn’t Lord Run be the biggest dream of all?

“I’m so glad we met,” he murmured.

“So am I.”

“Doesn’t it seem as if…ah…” He paused, his cheeks flushing with chagrin. “Oh, never mind.”

“No, say it.”

“Doesn’t it seem as if there’s some destiny at work between us? I rarely visit Fox Run, but I just happened to stop by when you were here. It’s as if the universe intended for us to cross paths.”

Hadn’t she been thinking the very same? Yes, there was destiny at work. Where would it take them?

“I agree,” she said. “I feel as if I was specifically brought to Fox Run by the unseen hand of Fate.”

“I tried to depart so you’d be safe from my wicked ways.”

“Your wicked
ways
?” She laughed, liking him more and more.

“Yes, my very wicked ways, but I couldn’t stay away. You were a magnet, dragging me back.”

“A very strong, very potent magnet. I obsessed over you every second while you were gone.”

“Did you?” He beamed with pleasure. “It was almost as if you’d planted a message in my head, as if you were calling to me across the miles to jump on my horse and hurry to your side.”

“I won’t embarrass myself by confessing how often I sent you that precise message. When I looked up in the music room and you were standing there, I thought, there’s a man who knows how to obey.”

It was his turn to laugh. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“I sincerely hope not. I rather enjoy your company. I’d hate to have you perish before you can shower me with more of it.”

“I’ll try to hold on—just for you.”

“Thank you.”

Their banter died down again, and he started to kiss her. He was still stretched out on top of her, his large body pressing her down. With his greater size, he should have seemed heavy, but he didn’t. She relished the solid feel of him, the weight of him. She couldn’t get enough.

She kissed him back enthusiastically. He was touching her all over, driving her to a chaotic state of excitement, and she was doing the same to him. He’d previously shown her some of the decadence he could produce, and she was anxious to let him proceed, to let him create all those wild sensations again.

But she was sufficiently rational that she realized they shouldn’t continue. He was disrobing her, unbuttoning her dress, baring her arms and shoulders.

She’d once told him she wasn’t loose, that she wasn’t easy, and if she wanted to coax him into a deeper relationship, she had to exhibit the moral traits of the virtuous person she’d always been.

She laid a hand on his, stilling his questing fingers.

“You’re awful,” she said. “You draw out the worst parts of my character so I’m eager to misbehave.”

“Wonderful.”

“But…I’m not going to.”

“Why not? I’ve typically found that it’s more fun to be naughty than to be nice.”

“You’re much too worldly for me. I can’t carry on as you do.”

“Does this mean I can’t kiss you anymore?”

“Absolutely not. You can kiss me as frequently as you like.”

“Praise be.” He raised an arrogant brow. “And how about sneaking into your room late at night? Are you barring me?”

“No, again, Lord Run. You may visit whenever you like—so long as you’re discreet and you mind your manners.”

“You make it difficult to rein in my base tendencies, but I’ll try my best.”

“After we’ve been friends for a while, you won’t have any base tendencies. I’ll drum them out of you.”

“Here’s hoping.”

There was such a passionate look in his eye that she thought he might declare elevated feelings, and she was on tenterhooks, her pulse racing with exhilaration to hear what they would be.

Yet what he said was, “When we’re alone, would you call me Aaron? It wouldn’t be appropriate when we’re around the servants or the neighbors, but when we’re by ourselves, it would probably be all right. What do you think?”

She was so disappointed by the query. Not because he wanted a more intimate mode of address, but because she’d been prepared for a different remark entirely.

He was waiting for her reply, and she smiled, desperate to bring them back to the light, teasing place where they’d been through the whole encounter.

“Yes, I would be happy to call you Aaron when we’re alone, and you’ve already been calling me Evangeline, and now I give you my permission, you lucky dog.”

He swooped in and stole a last kiss, then he slid away and stood. She missed him instantly and could barely keep from begging him to lie down again.

“I traveled all day.” He was drooping, yawning. “I’m dead on my feet.”

“Then head for your bed, you silly man.”

“Unless you’d like to invite me to stay in yours?”

“No! I’m determined to show you that I am a virtuous young lady.”

“I find virtue to be highly overrated.”

“You do not.”

“Since I met you, my attitudes are changing.”

He swooped in again, palms on the mattress. He studied her, his beautiful blue eyes riveting, mesmerizing, then he took another quick kiss.

“Good night, Evangeline.”

“Good night, Aaron.”

At her use of his Christian name, he flashed a huge, beguiling smile.

“Join me for breakfast in the morning,” he said. “At ten.”

“I will.”

“Do you ride?”

“Yes.” Not very well, and not very often, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

“We’ll take a ride after we eat.”

“I’d like that very much.”

He dawdled, and they gaped like a pair of halfwits.

She braced, thinking he was about to address a vital topic that would send her soaring, but he didn’t. He spun and left.

She listened to him go, feeling almost bereft as the door closed behind him.

What now? How would she maneuver their acquaintance with any aplomb? After such a fiery rendezvous, their future assignations would grow in heat and intensity. How would she survive them?

She couldn’t imagine.

*    *    *    *

“Thank you for coming.”

“Lord Run is in residence again, so I can only tarry for a minute.”

Gertrude Bosworth stared at Mrs. Turner, a frumpy, dour housemaid at Fox Run. They were in the parlor at the vicarage, Ignatius out for the afternoon. Mrs. Turner had stopped by unexpectedly, but then that’s how her visits always occurred.

“What is it you have for me?” Gertrude snapped. “Make it quick, would you? You’re not the only person in the world who’s busy.”

Mrs. Turner was employed at the manor. She was widowed, with her husband having previously been in charge of the stables. She loathed Aaron Drake because—toward the end of Mr. Turner’s life—he was nearly fired for drinking on the job.

Mr. Turner had fallen to the ground right in front of Aaron’s horse. Any other landlord would have rid himself of such a drunkard, but the negligent pair had managed to convince Aaron not to terminate the old sot.

In many ways, Aaron was a fool. He could be too kind and accommodating. He’d done the Turners an enormous favor, but Mrs. Turner had never forgiven Aaron for accusing her spouse of sloth and dereliction.

It proved the saying that no good deed went unpunished.

Mrs. Turner was very devout, and she didn’t like Aaron’s loose morals or his dissolute friends. She viewed it as beneath her dignity to serve a doxy or gambler.

She opened her bag and pulled out some letters, handing them to Gertrude.

“You told me to inform you if Miss Etherton wrote to anyone.”

“My, my, what have we here?” Gertrude studied the letters, seeing they were addressed to two women named Rose Ralston and Amelia Hubbard. “Was this her only correspondence?”

“Yes.”

“If there are any others penned, you’ll bring them to me immediately.”

“Yes, of course.”

Gertrude might send them on after she read them. Or she might not. It depended on Miss Etherton’s comments.

“What about the goings-on at the manor?” she asked Mrs. Turner. “You mentioned that my cousin has returned.”

“Just in time too, although with his low habits, I don’t know if it will make any difference.”

“What do you mean?”

“Miss Etherton has been in a frenzy, with her singing and carrying on. She’s tight as a knitted cap with those two friends of his, that Miss Bernard and Mr. Blair.”

BOOK: Wonderful
5.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Emma by Rosie Clarke
Floods 5 by Colin Thompson
The Blue Girl by Laurie Foos
One by One in the Darkness by Deirdre Madden
Doggone It! by Nancy Krulik
Most of Me by Mark Lumby
Curveball by Jen Estes
El túnel by Ernesto Sábato
What You Become by C. J. Flood