Wonderful (24 page)

He was so far in the wrong, he couldn’t defend his conduct. He muttered, “I apologize.”

“I want you to arrange for Miss Etherton’s removal from the premises. Then I want you to return with us to London tomorrow. In the coming days, I expect you to exhibit the amiable, charming traits I’ve always witnessed from you, just as I expect you to courteously participate in all the events leading up to the wedding.”

“Or…?”

“I will not let Priscilla marry you. We will break the engagement and file suit for breach of contract and alienation of affection. I’ll drag you and Miss Etherton through the courts. I will smear your reputation—and hers—so thoroughly that you will both be pariahs. There will be nowhere you can go with her and have any kind of sane existence.” She paused, seeming dangerous and deadly. “And I will demand your father repay the sums I have advanced toward the dowry. No judge in the land would deny my request to recoup it.”

She raised a brow, informing him she was cognizant of Lord Sidwell’s finances, that he’d already spent the money.

“I understand,” he grumbled, feeling sick and furious.

“We’ll depart for London at ten o’clock. I hope you’ll come to your senses and ride with us.” Her tirade ended, she stood. “At the moment, it’s a bit past noon. If you don’t mind, I’ll ask the housekeeper to have supper served at eight. I would appreciate it if you could join us for the meal to give me your answer. I would hate to have you make us wait until morning.”

“I’ll be there.” He had no idea if he was being truthful or not.

She swept out, and Aaron was all alone.

*    *    *    *

Priscilla was marching down the hall when, up ahead, a door opened and a very beautiful auburn-haired woman emerged. She turned to Priscilla, and she was smiling, about to say hello, when she noted Priscilla’s condemning glower.

“Aren’t you Florella Bernard?” Priscilla inquired.

“Yes, I am.”

“I thought so. I’ve seen you on the stage in London.”

“Oh. I’m always delighted to meet a fan.”

“I’m not a fan. I am Priscilla Cummings, Lord Run’s fiancée. I’m visiting Fox Run. My mother is with me too.”

“How nice.” Miss Bernard struggled to keep her smile in place.

“Though Lord Run occasionally consorts with actresses and other low persons, I don’t believe I should have to.”

“No, no, certainly not.”

“My mother wouldn’t deem you to be appropriate company.”

“Of course not.”

“You’re leaving this afternoon, aren’t you? Isn’t that what I heard? You were called back to London unexpectedly?”

Priscilla scowled at Miss Bernard, watching as a dozen replies flitted through her mind. Possibly she was thinking she’d like to speak to Aaron first. Possibly she’d like to announce that she was a guest and Priscilla had no right to boss her.

But she didn’t dare. Priscilla was so far above her in station that it was a wonder they could see each other across the distance separating them.

Ultimately, Miss Bernard nodded. “Yes, Miss Cummings, I was just on my way downstairs to find my maid so we can pack.”

“It shouldn’t take more than an hour or two, should it?”

“I can be gone by then.”

“Marvelous.”

Priscilla kept on down the hall, and she was so angry, she was trembling. For weeks, her mother had been haranguing at Priscilla about how she had to act around Aaron. Priscilla was trying her best, but honestly, there was a limit as to what she should have to endure.

An actress! Staying in Priscilla’s home! The outrage of it was almost greater than the fact that Aaron’s mistress was present too.

Priscilla didn’t care what her mother said. Once Priscilla and Aaron were married, they would have to establish some rules as to what was allowed and what wasn’t.

She arrived at Miss Etherton’s door, knocked, then strolled in without waiting for a response. The sitting room was empty, but in the bedchamber, Miss Etherton was leaned against the edge of the bed.

She was in a state of shock, had seen Priscilla enter, but didn’t move. She simply stared, her blue eyes wide and tormented.

Priscilla approached until she was directly in front of Miss Etherton. She’d planned to be rude and cruel, but Miss Etherton’s desolation was so obvious, Priscilla couldn’t bear to chastise her. It would have been like kicking a puppy.

“You know who I am, Miss Etherton.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And
I
know who you are. Lord Sidwell told me all about you. It’s why I’ve traveled to Fox Run. Each minute that you’re in residence is an insult to me.”

Miss Etherton’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of scarlet. “I’m terribly sorry.”

“I must say a few things to you, Miss Etherton.”

“No, Miss Cummings, I believe
I
should say them to you.”

“Let me start,” Priscilla insisted, “and I must be very blunt.”

Miss Etherton chuckled miserably. “I doubt there’s any other way to have a conversation like this. Yes, please be blunt.”

“You didn’t know about my wedding.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“If you had been apprised, I’m positive you wouldn’t have been here in my home.”

“You’re correct.”

“It was awful of Aaron to have put you in such a predicament.”

“Well…” Miss Etherton couldn’t finish her sentence.

“You seem like a nice person. In other circumstances, we might have been cordial.”

“Yes, we might have been.” Miss Etherton didn’t sound as if she meant it.

“You understand, don’t you, that you must leave Fox Run immediately?”

“Yes, I understand. Absolutely.” Miss Etherton straightened. “I was about to begin packing.”

“Good. I’m glad there won’t be a fuss over it.”

“No, there’s no need to fuss. I was a tad…surprised by your arrival. I was catching my breath, but I’m better now. I’ll get my bag and be gone in a thrice.”

She and Miss Etherton were the same height, but that was the only similarity. Miss Etherton was older than Priscilla, was more slender than Priscilla. While Priscilla never left the house unless she was immaculately coifed and tailored, Miss Etherton wasn’t overly concerned as to her appearance. Her hair was in a haphazard chignon, and she was attired in a dowdy gray dress such as a nanny or governess might wear.

Yet despite her lack of wardrobe or polish, she was very pretty, very appealing, and she exuded a confidence Priscilla would probably never be able to match. Priscilla could definitely comprehend why a man might be attracted to Miss Etherton. If she’d been decked out in a ball gown and jewels, she’d have been stunning.

Priscilla had brought her reticule, and she opened it and pulled out a sack full of coins.

Miss Etherton frowned. “What’s this?”

“It’s for you. Please take it.”

“Why?”

“Have you anywhere to go, Miss Etherton?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“Is it a location Aaron might recognize? Might he come there in search of you?”

Miss Etherton pondered, then her shoulders drooped. “Yes, he would figure it out eventually.”

“Then I’m asking you—no, I’m begging you—to use this money to go somewhere else.”

“You assume he would look for me?”

“I’m convinced of it, Miss Etherton. He’s very fond of you, and I can see you were very fond of him.”

“Perhaps,” Miss Etherton muttered.

“I’m about to be a bride, Miss Etherton. My wedding day is an event I’ve dreamed about and planned for since I was a little girl.”

“Of course you have,” Miss Etherton gently said.

“I’m afraid Aaron won’t show up for the ceremony. He’s so infatuated by you! He’s dawdling here, but it’s keeping him from his responsibilities in London. If he left me standing at the altar, I’d just die!”

“He would never do that,” Miss Etherton loyally declared.

“I believed that about him once, but since he met you, I’m not so sure.”

“I’m very sorry,” Miss Etherton murmured.

“I want to start my married life on a good note, Miss Etherton, and I’m aware of how charming Aaron can be. If he knows where you are, he’ll seek you out and persuade you to dally with him again. Sooner or later, I’d learn of it, and it would kill me.”

“It will never happen,” Miss Etherton insisted.

“I’d like to be certain of that.” She forced the money into Miss Etherton’s hand. “Take it, would you? Don’t travel to the location you were envisioning. Go where he would never find you. Consider this a nest egg that will help you get settled.”

Priscilla stared, her expression concerned and sympathetic, and Miss Etherton gaped at the sack of coins. Finally, she sighed.

“Yes, it’s probably for the best.”

“And you oughtn’t to tarry.”

“No. There’s no reason to delay my departure.”

“I heard Miss Bernard is leaving for London.”

“Is she?”

“Yes—within the hour. Maybe you could ride with her.”

“Yes, maybe I could.”

Priscilla studied Miss Etherton, wondering what would become of her. Ruined by a scoundrel. Deceived by his lies. Abandoned by him when push came to shove. It was like a scene out of a tragic novel.

She reached out and squeezed Miss Etherton’s wrist in a supportive way.

“Let me have him, Miss Etherton. Give him up forever so he can be mine. Don’t allow him to shame me further.”

“Yes, yes, he’s all yours. He always has been.”

“Swear it to me.”

“I swear.”

Priscilla nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

She hovered, expecting Miss Etherton to add a pithy or profound comment, but she didn’t, and her silence made Priscilla feel as if
she
should comment, but she couldn’t imagine what it might be. They seemed to have hashed it out to the bitter end.

“I appreciate your listening to me,” Priscilla said. “Goodbye.”

She spun and left, and she could sense Miss Etherton’s weary eyes digging into her back. Head high, shoulders straight, Priscilla continued on. She stepped into the hall and quietly closed the door. She would have liked to slam it—she was in that kind of dark mood—but she minded her manners.

She walked on, and as she turned the corner and there was no chance Miss Etherton might peek out and see her, she grinned from ear to ear.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Evangeline was in her bedchamber, packing her meager pile of belongings, when the door opened again. Annoyance rippled through her. No doubt it was Miss Cummings having returned to twist the knife, and Evangeline had listened to every word she ever intended to hear from the horrid girl.

She had to give credit to Miss Cummings though. Prior to her barging in, Evangeline had been too stunned to react or figure out a plan. Miss Cummings had forced Evangeline to realize she had to get moving and flee Fox Run before Lord Run tried to talk to her—and he would try. She had to find somewhere safe where she could rest and regroup and decide what to do next.

Having shaken off her stupor, she’d hurried to Florella’s room and found Miss Cummings had been telling the truth. Florella was leaving immediately, and Evangeline was going with her.

Evangeline hadn’t confessed her sins to Florella who—at the moment—appeared to be Evangeline’s only friend in the world. But from Florella’s expression, she seemed to be aware of Evangeline’s affair with Lord Run. How would she have learned of it? Did the whole kingdom know?

Evangeline had one goal and that was to depart the premises before Lord Run crept upstairs.

The poor, poor man,
she caustically mused. In love with one woman but about to marry another.

He’d be anxious to persuade Evangeline that she was completely wrong about him, but if he tried to
explain,
if he tried to justify his conduct, Evangeline couldn’t predict how she might lash out.

She’d already lingered much too long, and with each passing minute, she was risking a confrontation she couldn’t bear to have. She wouldn’t listen or commiserate or attempt to
understand
. Gad, just from considering the conversation they might have, a wave of nausea swirled in her stomach.

Footsteps sounded as someone marched across her floor, and she scowled, recognizing they were much too heavy for it to be Miss Cummings. Evangeline sighed with disgust and whipped around as Lord Run entered the room. They stared and stared, the silence so fraught with fury and regret that she felt dizzy.

“Don’t say anything to me,” Evangeline told him.

His gaze shifted to her portmanteau on the bed.

“You’re leaving?” he inquired.

“Of course I’m leaving.”

He shook his head. “No. I can’t let you.”

“You can’t
let
me?” His idiotic comment was so galling, she wanted to hit him. “You don’t own me. In fact, you have no connection to me at all. You have no authority over me, and you’ve squandered any glimmer of friendship. You’re insane if you assume you can prevent me.”

Like the incredible boor he could apparently be, he tromped over, grabbed the portmanteau, and carried it to the wardrobe. He dumped her clothes into it in a messy pile and tossed the bag on top of them.

His blue eyes flamed with temper. “You will not go until I tell you you can.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Mockingly, she added, “Yes, my lord and master. By all means, permit me to stay. Please! I’ll hide in my bedchamber, and you can pop in for a visit whenever your fiancée isn’t looking.”

He stomped over and wagged an angry finger in her face. “I didn’t ask her to come here.”

“So what? She’s here and I’m here, and one of us has to depart. Shall we inform Miss Cummings you’ve decided it should be her?”

The question stopped him in his tracks for it was painfully obvious he’d tell Miss Cummings no such thing. He and Miss Cummings had known each other since they were children. Their parents had discussed a marriage when Miss Cummings was in the cradle. They’d been engaged for an entire year.

How bizarre, how humiliating that he would wedge Evangeline into the middle of such a long-established plan. And at the very end too!

The man was mad as a hatter.

His expression softened, his shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to the marrow of my bones.”