Wonderful (19 page)

“She was. She
is
.”

“She
is
? Are you setting her up as your mistress? Good for you. It will ease your transition from bachelor to husband.”

“I’m not setting her up as my mistress.”

“What then?” Lord Sidwell pondered the situation, then gasped. “Don’t tell me she’s a housemaid at Fox Run. That could be a bit dicey once Priscilla moves in.”

“No, she’s not a housemaid.”

“But she’s still at Fox Run? I hate to sound like an old fusspot, but is that wise?”

Aaron chuckled miserably. “No, there’s nothing wise about it at all.”

“You have to secret her away. I’m all for a man doing as he likes in his private affairs, but a wife has a way of sniffing out an indiscretion. The woman’s proximity could get you and Priscilla off to a rocky start.”

“We’re already off to a rocky start.”

“You’ll figure out how to carry on, but a paramour on the premises won’t help.”

“I don’t want to simply
carry on
. I want much more than that in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

Aaron felt as if he was on a cliff and racing toward the edge. He hurled himself over, falling free, curious as to where and how he would land.

“I’ve decided to cry off.”

“What?”

“I won’t marry Priscilla.”

His father stared and stared, then banged a palm against his ear. “There must be some problem with my hearing. I could have sworn you said you were crying off.”

“Your hearing is fine. You know precisely what I said.”

“Aaron, the wedding is in three weeks! It’s been coming for an entire year.”

“I’m aware of how long it’s been coming. I lived through every blasted day of the engagement.”

“And now—here at the very end—you think you can just change your mind?”

“Yes.”

“You act as if we’re dithering over how much sugar you’d like in your tea.”

“I realize how serious this is. Don’t lecture me.”

“Don’t lecture you? Don’t lecture you?” Lord Sidwell’s voice and temper were rising. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t lock you in an asylum for this.”

“There’s no need to threaten or bellow. I intend to discuss this quietly and rationally, or I won’t discuss it at all. I’m asking you how to handle the dissolution with a minimum of fuss and bother. If you refuse to advise me, I shall ride back to Fox Run, and I won’t return, which will leave you to clean up the mess on your own.”

“He calls it a
fuss!”
his father muttered to himself. “A fuss!”

Lord Sidwell gaped at Aaron. He looked thunderstruck and more enraged than Aaron had ever seen him, and considering how Lucas had vexed their father over the years, that was really saying something.

“What the hell has come over you?” his father demanded.

“I don’t wish to marry Priscilla.”

“So? You never wished to.”

“I’ve…met someone else. I wish to marry her instead.”

“Someone else?” His father’s face was such a violent shade of red that he appeared on the verge of collapse. “Is it this woman at Fox Run?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been acquainted with her…what? All of two weeks?”

“Actually, it’s more like three weeks.”

Crudely, his father sneered, “You’ve been fucking some trollop for three weeks and—”

Incensed at the slur to Evangeline’s character, Aaron huffed, “She’s not a trollop, and I haven’t been fornicating with her.”

His father ignored Aaron’s comment. “You feel this makes her qualified to eventually be Countess of Sidwell? Because you’ve known her for twenty-one days? Please tell me you haven’t lost your bloody mind.”

When his father put it like that, Aaron’s declaration sounded patently ridiculous.

At Fox Run, Evangeline had charmed him, and with their being sequestered in the country, it had seemed perfectly logical that Aaron shuck off all that he was and all he’d ever been. He’d convinced himself that he could blithely ruin several lives—most particularly his own—merely to satisfy his quest to be happy.

But as his father had mentioned, he hardly knew Evangeline. He was such a self-centered oaf that he’d scarcely quizzed her about her background. She’d once told him she was an orphan and had no details regarding her history or family. She could be anyone! She could come from any inferior place!

Aaron believed in the British system. The lower classes shouldn’t mingle with the upper ones. There were reasons people were separated, that lines shouldn’t be crossed, but when he was in Evangeline’s company, she was like a sorceress. He forgot the rules and restrictions by which he’d been raised, by which he’d always thrived and succeeded. She was just so amazing.

When he was with her, it was difficult not to love her. And he
did
love her. Wildly and heedlessly. But so what?

He was pragmatic, sensible, and prudent. He’d never been governed by his emotions, had never let sentiment guide him. He assessed a situation, evaluated the pros and cons, then proceeded in the most cautious and rational fashion.

He’d never previously been in love. Was that the problem? Was romantic attachment driving him insane?

He yearned to be happy, but it wasn’t a factor that mattered in choosing a bride. Wealth, property, and position were what mattered. Evangeline could never be his wife. She’d be an ideal mistress though, and Aaron had asked her, but she’d refused. Since she’d declined the only function available in his life, why had he assumed she could become more than what was allowed?

Yet he couldn’t give up on her. He’d promised her they could be together, and he’d meant it.

Yes, happiness was fleeting and illusory. Yes, passion faded, but he simply
liked
her so much and wanted to be with her, to be with her forever. What was the answer for them?

“Who is she?” Lord Sidwell reined in his temper. “Is it anyone I know?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve met her, but you were responsible for bringing her to Fox Run.”

“Me? How?”

“She’s engaged to Cousin Iggy.”

His father’s brows shot up. “She’s Iggy’s fiancée?”

“Yes.”

“Let me get this straight. You’d like to cry off from Priscilla, and this woman would cry off from Iggy? You’d destroy two families, then ride off into the sunset?”

“It wouldn’t be like that,” Aaron tried to claim.

“It would be exactly like that,” Lord Sidwell hissed. “My God, Aaron, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m in a terrible state, Father. I feel half mad with indecision.”

“What’s her name?”

“Evangeline Etherton.”

“Ah, yes,” his father said. “Are you aware of where I found this stellar specimen of womanhood?”

“No, where?”

“You haven’t bothered to inquire? You’re ready to push her into line to be our next countess, and you didn’t think you should find out?”

“It all happened so fast.”

“She taught at that stupid school with Miss Hubbard.”

“No…” Aaron breathed.

“Yes,” his father replied. “She boarded there as a girl, and she was a teacher later on.”

“She told me she’d been a teacher.”

“But she’s an orphan, Aaron, and there is no information as to her antecedents. Her mother could have been a whore in a brothel.”

Aaron bristled with affront. “Don’t insult her.”

“I’m not. I’m simply trying to jar you into viewing this rationally. We don’t know her history, and we can’t
ever
know. How could you—for even a single second—consider her as your countess?”

“She’s wonderful, Father.” Aaron felt as if he was begging.

“I’m sure she is, Aaron. If she’s charmed you so thoroughly, and in such a short period of time, she must be magnificent, but it doesn’t signify. It can’t signify.”

“You had no qualms about betrothing her to Iggy.”

“Well, of course not. Iggy has naught to recommend him but the post at the church we helped him to secure. And Gertrude was looking for a tepid mouse who would let Gertrude continue to run the household. With Miss Etherton having no kin, she was a perfect bride for him—and his mother.”

“Even if there might be whoring in her past?” Aaron caustically spat.

“I shouldn’t have been so crude about her. She probably has a connection to a wealthy family—someone always paid her tuition—but she’d have been some fellow’s by-blow. Very likely, it was a younger son who tumbled a housemaid. You understand how these affairs are handled. She couldn’t be abandoned alongside the road, so she was sent to Miss Peabody.”

“She’s good enough for Iggy but not for me?”

“Exactly, and if you weren’t behaving like a lunatic, you’d realize I’m right.”

“You permitted Lucas to marry a teacher from that school. In fact, you absolutely insisted on it.”

It was the weakest argument Aaron could have raised, and it made him sound frivolous and immature.

“You’re correct. I picked Miss Hubbard for him, but Lucas isn’t you. Lucas isn’t in line to inherit an earldom. He isn’t in line to become a peer of the realm, and besides, Miss Hubbard’s father was a French count.”

“A French count?” Aaron scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Yes. Her mother wasn’t that lofty, but her father definitely was. She has a very elevated background, so she’s appropriate for Lucas. But
you
aren’t Lucas, and you know you’re not. Honestly, Aaron, get a grip on yourself.”

Aaron took a deep breath, trying to deduce why his scheme had seemed so logical at Fox Run, but why it seemed so absurd now. He might have been a child and his father dissuading him from having a piece of candy he’d desperately wanted to taste. Yet he wasn’t a child, and he hadn’t known Evangeline for twenty-one days.

He’d spent part of that interval in London, so the actual count was more like fifteen days. Why had he rushed to London and spewed drivel to his father about Evangeline? As his father had pointed out, Aaron belonged in an asylum.

Evangeline had to be his mistress. He had to convince her to agree. He could set her up in a house in London, and he’d draft a contract with her, would offer her a small pension so she’d be fiscally secure in the future after he tired of her and they went their separate ways.

It was the only path he could pursue with her, and as to Priscilla…

If Aaron wished to create a huge catastrophe, he could refuse to wed Priscilla, but then he’d have to select another girl just like her. But if he jilted Priscilla, what other father—after such an outrage—would give Aaron his daughter?

Aaron would be branded a cad and a liar. He’d be dragged through the courts for breach of contract. He hadn’t inquired as to how much of the dowry Lord Sidwell had frittered away, but Aaron would be bankrupted paying it back.

As he contemplated the quagmire, he was ill with regret.

“What is Miss Etherton’s opinion of your approaching wedding?”

His father’s question yanked him out of his despicable reverie.

“I haven’t told her,” Aaron muttered.

“Why not?”

“She’s a very moral person. She wouldn’t understand how I could have developed an affection for her when I’m about to marry someone else.”

“When were you planning to tell her about it? Or were you going to simply waltz into the front foyer with Priscilla and introduce them?”

“I hadn’t thought it through. I’m so confused.”

“Here is what I need you to do, Aaron,” he father firmly, stoically said.

“What?”

“I want you to return to Fox Run and seduce Miss Etherton.”

“Father!” Aaron scolded. “I won’t talk about it.”

“She’s fascinated you, so avail yourself of her many charms. Have that fling I encouraged you to have. Get her out of your system before this eats you alive.”

“I can’t decide how to proceed.”

“Aaron…son…listen to me.”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.”

“Passion fades. Romance fades. You’re a man. You enjoy the chase, the hunt, but once you corner your quarry, your infatuation will wane.” Aaron must have looked as if he’d argue the point, for his father added, “You know this is true.”

“I suppose.”

“Let Miss Etherton thrill and tantalize you. Dine on her attributes. Feast until you are sated, but then I’m begging you, I’m pleading with you! Send her away so you can come home and wed Priscilla.”

“I’m not sure I can, Father. You might finally be asking too much of me.”

“I’m not, Aaron. I’m only asking what I’ve always asked, that you be a dutiful, loyal son. Please!”

His father had never begged Aaron for anything, and Aaron had never refused to do his father’s bidding. His father—for all his rants and foibles—had Aaron’s best interests at heart. Aaron realized that fact, which was why he’d never rebelled as Lucas had.

“If you would treat Priscilla so hideously,” his father softly said, “what will become of us? We’ll be shunned. We’ll be ostracized. I couldn’t bear it. Could you?”

The query rang out with an exhausting resonance, and Aaron winced.

At Fox Run, his choices had seemed so simple. He’d told himself he could tot off with Evangeline, but there were so many unconsidered aspects to such treacherous behavior. He was stupidly, foolishly in love, so he’d pretended none of those other aspects mattered, but they did.

And with his father staring, pleading, Aaron was at the end of his rope.

“I have to go,” he mumbled.

He pushed up from his chair and practically ran from the room.

“Aaron!” his father called. “Are you heading to Fox Run? Where will you be?”

Aaron ignored Lord Sidwell and kept on.

*    *    *    *

“Might I have a private word with you?”

“If you must.”

Claudia glared at George, thinking she’d be delighted if he staggered out to the garden and drowned in the fountain.

Family difficulties were escalating. Aaron had left again, and Priscilla was in a wretched state, constantly asking if she was about to be jilted.

Claudia had no answers for her daughter. She wished she’d never given George the time of day when he’d suggested the betrothal. She wished she could get on a fast ship, sail away, and never come back.

She couldn’t imagine that a man as sensible and amiable as Aaron would cry off, but if he did, Claudia would buy a gun. A very large, very deadly gun. She’d use it to murder George Drake, then Aaron Drake. As she was dragged to the gallows, she’d climb the stairs with a smile on her face.