Authors: Cheryl Holt
“Were you ever going to mention her to me?”
“I wanted to.”
“I’m sure you did,” she sarcastically fumed.
“If you knew, I didn’t think you’d keep on with me—”
“You’re bloody right about that.”
“And I can’t imagine my world without you in it.”
“Have you any idea how mortified I am or how stupid I feel?”
“I’m sorry.” It seemed to be the only remark he could utter.
“What now?” she asked. “Your fiancée is here, and you refuse to let me leave. Are you expecting we’ll cohabitate? Will we spend a week or two becoming chums? For I must point out, having met Miss Cummings
and
her mother, I doubt cordiality is possible.”
“You’re making too much of this,” he claimed.
Evangeline gasped with affront. “
I
am making too much of it?”
“Yes. I apologize for how you found out, but it doesn’t have to change things between us.”
“Not change things?” She gaped at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language.
“We can continue on,” he insisted.
“How?”
“I love you, Evangeline.”
“Be silent, Lord Run.”
“Don’t call me Lord Run,” he imperiously commanded. “My name is Aaron.”
“
Lord Run,
you’re embarrassing yourself—and me.”
Fleetingly, he looked as if he’d argue over her mode of address but, evidently, he was eager to move on to more pertinent issues. “You told me you loved me too. Such a potent amount of affection can’t have vanished over night.”
“When we declared heightened sentiment, I think
one
of us was sincere, but I think one of us may have been lying. One of us may have merely been hoping for a quick tumble.”
“You’re wrong,” he furiously said. “I love you with all my heart, and I’ve asked you—from the moment we met—to let me take care of you. Haven’t I asked you? Haven’t I begged you?”
“If I remember correctly, you
asked
me to be your mistress.”
“Yes, and I’m asking again. Let me take you to London. I’ll buy us a house, and we’ll start a family. We don’t need a marriage license to prove we belong together.”
She studied him, wondering if he hadn’t been possessed by demons.
They would live openly in sin? They didn’t need a marriage license? Who talked that way? Who acted that way? Such fraternization wasn’t legal! They could be arrested for illicit consorting. Their children would bear the stain of bastardry. Evangeline would be a fallen woman, the type no decent female could invite inside for a cup of tea.
That was the future he envisioned for them? That was the life he was offering?
“I firmly believe, Lord Run, that you have gone insane. Are you feeling all right? Perhaps we should summon a footman and have you put to bed until you’ve recovered your wits.”
“We could be happy!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
“If that’s what you suppose, then you don’t know me at all.”
“But if you love me, Evangeline—”
“I loved a mirage. I loved a man who doesn’t exist.”
“You know me better than anyone ever has. You understand me better.”
“I don’t understand you at all, and clearly,
you
don’t understand me. I would never agree to be your mistress. I want to wed and have a husband and family. I want to be respectable—and respected.”
“You wish to wed?” he snidely said. “Who? Iggy Bosworth? Is that your idea of an appropriate husband?”
“At least he asked me. At least he was prepared to behave honorably—as opposed to some men of my acquaintance.”
Her insult hit its target, and he flushed with chagrin. “How does it make sense to live with someone horrid because you have a piece of paper—a marriage license—that says it’s all right? With me, you could be rich and happy and pampered, but you’d give it all up for a piece of paper? You’d pick Iggy over me because of a piece of paper?”
“I’m not marrying Vicar Bosworth. I can’t now, can I? Not when I’m ruined.”
“You’re not ruined.”
“What would you call it then?”
“You’re cherished and adored as you will never be by another person.”
“Fine, then. I’m cherished and adored. Go downstairs and tell your fiancée that it’s over. Tell her you had to choose between her and me, and you choose
me
.”
A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How is it complicated?” she asked. “It actually seems quite simple to me. You want us to be together, yet you deride me because I demand a paltry license for it to be official. So give me the license I’m yearning to have.”
He huffed out a heavy sigh. “Evangeline, don’t be so difficult.”
“I’m not. Just marry me instead of her. In my book, that’s not difficult.”
They glared, fuming, at an impasse. She couldn’t abide the tension and wished he’d leave so she could get to Florella’s room before Florella grew tired of waiting and left without her.
Ultimately, she said, “Explain something to me.”
“If I can.”
“You insist you love me. Are you in love with her too?”
“No,” he scoffed. “I don’t love her.”
“Then why would you wed her?”
“It’s a business arrangement.”
“I feel sorry for both of you.”
“Don’t be sorry. Priscilla and I entered into it with our eyes open. Neither of us would expect elevated sentiment. It’s not how marriages happen in our world.”
At the way he said
world,
Evangeline was very sad. It underscored the differences between him and her. It made her realize what a fool she’d been to dream and plan.
“Wouldn’t you like to be happy, Lord Run?”
“Of course I would. It’s why I keep asking you to be my mistress.”
“You have a strange view of life. How could you wed one woman, but bind yourself to another? How exactly would that work?”
“She doesn’t have anything to do with you and me,” he practically shouted.
“If that’s what you assume, then we’ve arrived back at the spot where I must repeat that I am gravely concerned as to your mental state.”
They stared again, and he tried to take her hand, but she yanked away, and he appeared very hurt. He was insane! No doubt about it.
“Calm down,” he snapped.
“I’m very calm.”
“This disaster unfolded so fast, and we all have to catch our breath.”
“I’ve caught my breath.”
“Well, I haven’t, and you must listen to me. You can’t run off half-cocked. I need a chance to figure out somewhere for you to go that’s safe and stable.”
“Where would that be?”
“I thought I’d write to my brother, Lucas. I believe he’s married your friend, Miss Hubbard. I’ll ask if you can stay with them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
She recalled Miss Cummings’s assertion that Lord Run would search for Evangeline, that he’d coerce her into restarting their affair. She recalled her promise to remove to a location where Lord Run could never find her.
So she lied and said, “Yes, I’d like to be with Amelia.”
“Good. We have to be in close contact in case there are…consequences.”
She didn’t grasp the implication, and she frowned. “What consequences?”
“In case you’re…ah…increasing.”
She gasped with alarm. “I could be with child now? Is that what you’re telling me?”
He shrugged. “It’s not likely, but it’s possible.”
The prospect hadn’t occurred to her, and she was aghast. “Can it happen from just one time?”
“It can. Not often, but it can.”
Shame rocking her, she felt as if she might faint, and she staggered over to the bed and eased her hips onto the mattress.
“I proceeded with you,” she murmured, “because I presumed we’d wed afterward, because you swore we’d be together.”
“And we will be—if you’d stop being so contrary.”
“But you didn’t mean marriage, did you? You meant I could be your mistress.”
“I was hoping.”
“What were you hoping? Were you hoping a babe would catch so I’d have to remain with you?”
He shrugged again. “I won’t deny it, Evangeline. I’m that desperate to keep you by my side.”
“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered. “I’m a blithering, idiotic dunce!”
She gazed at him, curious if she’d ever really known him. She’d seen only the part of his personality that was sunny and light, was kind and considerate. She hadn’t realized he possessed this hard, callous edge, hadn’t realized how driven he could be to get what he wanted.
Yet hadn’t Rose warned her? Rose was his cousin, and she’d been disavowed by the Drake men her entire life—merely because her mother had wed without permission thirty years earlier. The Drakes had attached that old transgression to Rose, and she hadn’t been able to shed it.
Hadn’t Rose mentioned the ruthless nature of her male kin? Hadn’t she commented on how merciless they could be? Why hadn’t Evangeline listened?
She thought—if she turned out to be increasing—she would buy a gun. She would buy a very big, very lethal gun, and she would hunt him down and shoot him right between the eyes.
“I’ll contact my brother immediately,” he said, “but I need you to promise me you’ll remain at Fox Run until I hear back.”
“What about Miss Cummings and her mother?”
“They’re leaving in the morning, so you don’t have to fret about them.”
“Are you going to London with them?”
“Yes, I’m going to London.”
She hadn’t expected anything else from him, but still, the admission was brutal. She nearly collapsed to the rug in a bereft heap.
“I’m glad you’re accompanying them,” she lied again. “I’m sure it’s for the best.”
“It’s not for the best, but I’ve always done my duty. I don’t know how to act any differently, but the only way I’ll follow through is if you stay put. You can’t run off the second I walk out the door.”
“I won’t run off,” she said.
“Swear it to me,” he demanded. “Swear you’ll stay until we hear from Lucas.”
“It’s not as if I have any choice.” She used the answer to keep from giving her vow. “What if your brother doesn’t want me in his home?”
“We’ll devise another solution. Just don’t traipse off alone.”
“I won’t.”
He studied her, looking bereft too, as if he might fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, which she couldn’t bear to imagine.
She’d lived a sheltered life and had been instantly fascinated by him. She had no defense against him, had never been able to resist him or behave as she ought. If he was forlorn and remorseful, she could picture herself missing him, relenting, letting him describe the future he envisioned and hoping it would transpire.
“Would you go?” she asked. “Your fiancée is downstairs, Lord Run. You need to be with her now. You shouldn’t be up here with me.”
“Will you come down to supper?” he absurdly inquired.
“No!”
“Then, I’ll see you in the morning before I depart. We’ll talk.”
“All right.”
“I’m sorry, Evangeline.” He reached out to stroke her cheek, but she lurched away so he couldn’t.
“I’m sorry too.”
“I wish…”
“Don’t tell me what you wish. Just go.”
She spun away and went to the window, showing him her back.
He dawdled and fidgeted and, finally, he left.
She was frozen in place, in a state of shock, wondering how her heart kept beating. She was so weary, so sad.
Eventually, a knock sounded, and Florella called, “Evangeline?”
Evangeline had been so distraught, she’d forgotten about Florella.
“Yes, I’m here,” she replied as Florella stepped inside.
“Are you ready?”
“In a minute.”
Evangeline hurried to the wardrobe and scooped up the clothes Lord Run had dumped out. She stuffed them into her portmanteau without bothering to fold any of it. Then she grabbed the sack of coins Miss Cummings had given her and stuffed it under the clothes.
She probably should have felt awful about accepting the money but, actually, she was relieved to have it. It would take her far away from Aaron Drake, and it would take her very fast.
“I need your assistance,” she said.
“With what?” Florella asked.
“Lord Run told me not to leave”—Florella frowned at the news—“and I agreed I wouldn’t, but I really have to get away from him.”
“I think that’s wise.”
“Would you carry my portmanteau?”
“Certainly.”
“I’ll walk through the park—as if I’m simply taking a stroll. I’ll meet you on the road.”
“Yes, that’s fine.”
“Is Bryce coming with us?” Evangeline inquired.
“No. The idiot refused to let Miss Cummings chase him away. He’s looking for Aaron right now to tell him how rude Miss Cummings was to me, but I’m not waiting around so that little harridan can accost me again.”
“My feeling exactly,” Evangeline concurred.
“So…let’s go.”
“Yes, let’s do, but on the way, I have to stop in the village.”
“What for?”
“I have to inform Vicar Bosworth that I’m breaking my engagement.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh,” Evangeline said.
“Well then”—Florella forced a smile—“we’d best get a move on.”
“I’ll be out on the road, past the gate.”
Florella picked up Evangeline’s bag and left with it. Evangeline put on her cloak and bonnet, then tiptoed down the servants’ stairs and went outside. No one saw her. She might have been invisible. She might have been a ghost flitting by, unnoticed and unremarked.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Hello, Miss Etherton.”
“Hello, Vicar Bosworth.”
“How
kind
of you to stop by.”
Evangeline hovered in the doorway to his library. He was seated at his desk, glaring at her as if daring her to enter.
She shuddered, briefly reflecting that—had her path gone in a different direction—this would have been her fate. The notion was terrifying, and if there was one aspect to the debacle that provided any solace, it was the fact that she would never be Mrs. Ignatius Bosworth.
“May I come in?” she tentatively asked, feeling afraid of him, as if she was a stranger begging for a handout.
He gestured to the chair across, and she hurried over and slid onto it.
“How is your cold?” he inquired.