Fairest of Them All (Marriage by Fairytale Book 4)

by Ruth Ann Nordin

  “London has parks,” she finally said.

  “It does?”

  “Yes. One is Hyde Park. That’s where most people go.”

  “What’s at Hyde Park?” he asked.

  “Trees, benches, a path to walk on…” After a moment, she added, “Some people bring their horses there. It’s a good place to meet others and talk. But even if you choose to spend some time alone, it’s nice to sit and relax on a bench while the breeze drifts around you.” She frowned. “Do you ever open the window in this attic?”

  “I have on occasion. It is nice to feel the breeze on one’s face.”

  She paused but then said, “I heard you recently came to London. Were you at your country estate up to now?”

  “I was. And yes, I used to go for walks and even rode my horse. Then my second wife died, and I realized it was better to stay inside.”

  “And you’ve confined yourself to an attic ever since?”

  “Not at first. I retreated to my bedchamber first. Then, over time, it just seemed safer to be away from everyone.” His thumb ran along her hand, and her skin warmed. “You mentioned walking. Do you ever ride horses?”

  “No. I’ve never been on one.”

  “Riding doesn’t interest you?”

  “It seems pointless to ride a horse when I can take a carriage or walk.”

  “You could ride at Hyde Park.”

  “Yes,” she said, “but I’d rather walk. I like to sit on a bench and watch people.”

  “You watch people?” he asked.

  Noting the slight amusement in his tone, she chuckled. “You’d be surprised by what you can learn by watching people. I find it interesting to watch how they move while they’re speaking. Sometimes what they’re saying doesn’t match up with how they’re moving.”

  “You mean it gives you insight into their real motives.”

  She nodded. “Most people are sincere, but others aren’t.”

  “Do you have an example so I know what insights you gain from this activity?”

  She thought for a moment then decided to share one that she’d never told another person. She didn’t know why she was going to share such a private story with him, except that something in her prompted her to do so. Besides, who was he going to tell? The butler? Tabitha? She doubted they would care.

  “Well,” she began, her mind unwittingly going back to her first Season, “there was a certain gentleman who expressed an interest in being my suitor. I had a couple of conversations with him, and I noticed he had trouble making eye contact with me. He would also shift around a lot, as if he was nervous. It left me with an unsettling feeling in my gut. I followed him around a ballroom one evening, and I watched the ladies he danced with and how he acted around them. He seemed much more at ease. I did more investigating and discovered his father had encouraged him to find a respectable wife to help cover up the fact that he was having an affair with a married lady.”

  “That must have been difficult to find out.” Though Evander whispered, his voice seemed loud in the attic.

  “It was, but I was glad to find out before I did something foolish like accept his proposal,” she replied. “I know marriages are often done for reasons other than love, but I didn’t want to be used in order to help someone be more discreet in his affairs.”

  “You will help Tabitha avoid something like that, won’t you?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you. She’s gone through so much in her short life. It seems that ever since I’ve known her, she’s had to endure one hardship after another, and none of it was her doing. Many times, I wish I had done what my mother told me to. She told me to leave Tabitha’s mother alone. She told me to let someone else marry her. But I had fallen in love with her, so I married her anyway.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Up to now, she hadn’t heard of his mother or even his father. She assumed neither one factored into any of this.

  “My mother died shortly after I married Tabitha’s mother. Her bedchamber caught on fire, and by the time we discovered what was going on, most of the things in the room had been destroyed, including her.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died when I was young. I don’t even remember him, but I heard he was a good gentleman.”

  So he lost his mother shortly before his first wife died. And after that, each successive wife died within a year of marrying him. Though she wasn’t given to the superstitious, she had to admit it was odd there were so many deaths that happened in his lifetime.

  “What about your parents?” he asked. “The butler mentioned an aunt and sisters who are currently living, and he added that you accepted my offer of marriage because you recently lost your brother. I am sorry to hear about his death. It’s never easy to lose someone close to you.”

  “No, it’s not, but it was harder to lose him than my parents. They both died shortly after my sisters were born. That was when my aunt came to live with us. My aunt took on the role as our mother, and sometimes I feel as if she was really my mother because my parents were preoccupied with their social lives. They rarely had time for their children.”

  “That is unfortunate. I wish Tabitha and I could have a better relationship. I was glad to take on the role of being her father. I had wished I could have other children, but, as you know, it didn’t work out that way.”

  She was tempted to ask him if he would try to have children with her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. If he refused to let her see him, she didn’t know how it would be possible for them to have children together.

  A knock came at the attic door, and she jumped.

  “That will be the butler,” Evander told her, his tone reassuring. “He knocks three times, unless you’re with him.”

  “How many times does Tabitha knock?”

  “Twice. She was the first person who ever came to the attic once I decided it was safer for everyone if I remained in hiding.”

  He let go of her hand and walked several steps until she heard the door creak open.

  “Your Grace, the gentleman who’s been sent to decorate your wife’s bedchamber is here,” the butler said.

  Evander asked the butler to wait for a moment and then returned to her. She felt his fingers on her hand and instinctively closed her hand around his.

  “I thought it best that you tell Mr. Jenkins exactly what you want in your bedchamber,” Evander told her.

  She let him help her stand up. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

  “I want you to be happy here. It means a lot to me that you’re willing to take Tabitha under your wing. She doesn’t really need a step-mother. What she needs is a friend.” He paused then added, “I know that will not be an easy task for you.”

  “When I don’t die in a year, maybe she won’t be so wary of me.”

  She meant it as a joke, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he led her over to the stairs.

  “I’ll go down first,” the butler told her.

  “All right.” She reached out and touched the railing. Before she took her first step, she called out to Evander, “I enjoyed talking with you.”

  And she had. This time hadn’t been spooky. In some ways, it’d been comforting. She wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe it was because of his gentle tone or the warmth in his touch. Or maybe it was because he seemed to have a deep longing for a human connection that made her feel appreciated in a way no other gentleman had appreciated her before. She didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t around him. She could be herself. And that was nice.

  She closed the door and followed the butler down the stairs.

  Chapter Seven

  Evander’s hands were shaking. Up until the moment he married Viola, it’d been a long time since he’d touched anyone. The simple act of touch was much more profound than he remembered.

  It’d also been a long time since he had anything that bordered on a normal conversation with anyone. Every time he spoke with the bu
tler, it was to discuss which errand he wanted performed. As for Tabitha… She hadn’t wanted to sit and talk to him ever since his second wife died. She would if he insisted on it, but he always felt empty and exhausted after speaking with her. None of the other servants wanted to get near him. They stayed on because either there was nowhere else they could go or because he paid them better than others would have. But they preferred only written correspondence or for the butler to tell them what he wanted.

  It was a lonely existence when no one wanted to be around you.

  Viola hadn’t seemed to mind sitting and talking to him. Granted, she didn’t seem to believe in the curse. That was probably why she wasn’t afraid of him. But as long as she didn’t try to bring a candle with her in order to see his face, she would be safe. The ghost at his estate in the country had assured him that any lady he married must never look at his face. It had been right about his other wives, so he had no reason to doubt it.

  After a moment, he went to the armoire and pulled it away from the window. Viola had mentioned parks. She’d mentioned how pleasant they were to walk in. He hadn’t had a walk in so long. Logically, he knew he could go outside and take a walk. There would be no danger in it. He had ridden horses and walked the grounds of his country estate many times while growing up. He’d also done such activities during his first two marriages.

  And then…

  And then he grew afraid to do the things he had once taken for granted. He hadn’t retreated from the outside world right away. At first, he pressed through his fears and tried to live a normal life. But little by little, day by day, he did fewer and fewer things outside. Then, one day, he stopped going outside at all.

  He opened the window and looked outside. London was full of activity. At his country estate, he would look out and breathe in air abundant with the scent of grass, trees, and flowers. He would see the expanse of the lawn that showed him the dirt road that led to town. If he was on the other side of the manor, he would see the stables. There was a gazebo on the property with paint that had become faded over time as he neglected to keep it up.

  That gazebo used to be one of his favorite places to sit and enjoy the day. His earliest memory was of him and his mother sitting at the gazebo. She was sniffing the flowers she’d collected. Being four, he couldn’t sit still for long, so he ended up climbing on the bench and jumping off of it.

  “Evander, you mustn’t treat the bench like a toy,” she’d told him. “You ought to be a young gentleman.”

  “But it’s fun,” he’d argued.

  “The bench gets scuffed up by your shoes, and you might hurt yourself if you don’t land on your feet. Come.” She’d stood up and held her hand out to him. “We’ll continue our walk. If you’re a good lad, I’ll tell Cook to make your favorite dessert tonight at dinner.”

  Few things were as exciting as the promise of a sweet treat, so he’d taken her hand and let her take him down the rest of the pathway.

  The memory ebbed from his mind, and he let out a mournful sigh. How he missed the freedom he’d had as a child. Never once in his childhood had he been afraid of anything.

  A horse neighed, so he turned his attention to the activity down on the street in front of him. He couldn’t tell which of the several horses neighed, but all of them were pulling carriages. People were walking up and down the sidewalk, and a couple even stopped to talk. His gaze went to the townhouses across from him and further out. There was a sea of townhouses. He even saw a spattering of trees here and there. But he couldn’t see a large expanse of grass and trees from his window.

  He couldn’t help but envy people who could walk to the park if they wanted to. He wished he could join them. He wished he had the courage to go outside. He wished he had the courage to leave the attic. As soon as he arrived at this townhouse, he had gone straight to this room, and he’d been here ever since. He hadn’t stepped outside of it once.

  He let his hand pass over the windowsill. The sunlight was warm. He’d almost forgotten how warm it was. He sighed. He didn’t like the fact that he was beginning to forget the simple things, like the smell of flowers or the feel of leaves as they crinkled in his hands in the autumn. Simple things. Things he had once taken for granted.

  Sometimes he felt more like a ghost than a human being. And it was difficult to stay connected to a world that was going on without him.

  ***

  That evening, Viola joined Tabitha for dinner, and, once again, Tabitha rushed through her meal so she could get away from her as soon as possible. At least Viola was better prepared for this. She was also prepared for the fact that the servants, minus the butler, avoided eye contact with her.

  This time, none of the maids came up to help her get ready for bed. This wasn’t surprising. No one had come to help her that morning, and no one had offered to help her change outfits during the day.

  She had retired to her bedchamber in the middle of the day early that afternoon. It was just as well none of the maids had been with her. She’d needed the time alone. Ever since her brother died, she’d been doing one thing after another. She’d rarely had a chance to be alone, except when she was allowed to sleep.

  Sleep, however, was hard in coming. She yearned for it. Even tonight, she yearned for it. But night was the time when there were no distractions, and on this particular night, she kept going over all the things she might have insisted the doctor do in order to help Oliver recover from his illness. She thought of what she and her aunt might have done to prevent him from getting consumption to begin with. But no matter what fantasy played out in her mind, she always came back to the reality of his death. Money was a poor substitute for her brother, even if it was a relief to know her aunt and sisters would have their physical needs met.

  When she finally fell asleep, she dreamt her brother came to visit her at this townhouse, and he told her that the doctor had been wrong—that he was really alive. It hadn’t mattered that she’d handled his corpse, nor had it mattered that she had arranged for his funeral. In the dream world, logic could be suspended. And in the dream, she had told him all that had happened since her marriage, and just before she woke up, Oliver told her, “Things will work out with Tabitha. Be patient with her. She won’t resist you forever.”

  She opened her eyes, aware that she was lying in her bed and that tears were running down her face. Oliver hadn’t just been her brother; he’d been her friend. And now she had to wake up every day with the realization she was never going to talk to him again until they could be reunited after her own death.

  With the day’s tasks ahead of her, she dragged herself out of bed and called for a bath. Today, she would get started on her relationship with Tabitha.

  Once she was dressed and ready for the day, she went to the drawing room. “Has Lady Tabitha been down here yet?” she asked the butler.

  “Not yet, but she usually doesn’t make it down for another ten or fifteen minutes,” he said.

  She nodded. “Have breakfast brought in here this morning.”

  This morning, she would eat with Tabitha. She went to the chair to wait for her. She chose a seat which would give her a view of the doorway. That way, if Tabitha saw her, she could stop the young lady from running back up the stairs or out of the house. She wasn’t sure how difficult it was going to be to proceed forward, but she had to take control of things. She was to be Tabitha’s chaperone. It was time she acted like it. The time for letting Tabitha avoid her was over. The longer she let this continue, the harder it was going to be for both of them.

  As soon as she saw Tabitha, she jumped up from the chair and hurried over to her. Offering her a smile to hide her nervousness, she gestured to the table the butler and maid had set for breakfast.

  “I thought we’d eat in here this morning,” Viola told her.

  Tabitha didn’t turn away from her, though she looked as if she wanted to. “Why?”

  “Why not?”

  Tabitha frowned. “Do you think it’s funny to return a q
uestion with another question?”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny. I used to eat in the drawing room with my brother, aunt, and sisters all the time. We found it to be much more relaxing than eating in the dining room.”

  “A dining room is called a dining room because people dine there.”

  “Yes,” Viola began, “that’s true, but it’s not called a breakfast room. That means you can eat breakfast anywhere you want.”

  Tabitha blinked in surprise, and Viola could tell she didn’t know how to respond to that.

  Viola waved for her to join her at the table. “Come. The food and drinks have just been brought in.” Since Tabitha relented, Viola added, “The room is bright and cheerful. It’ll be a nice start to our day.”

  Tabitha stopped at the table. “What do you mean by ‘a nice start to our day’?”

  “After we eat, we’re going to go for a walk,” Viola replied. “Have you been to Hyde Park?”

  “No, nor am I interested in going there.”

  Viola encouraged Tabitha to sit and then took the seat across from her. “Hyde Park is an important place to go. Granted, it’s not as busy in the morning as it is in the afternoon, but we’ll still come across a few people who will be able to tell us when the next ball is. Have you been to a ball before?”

  Tabitha hesitated but then said, “No.”

  “A ball is the ideal place to meet gentlemen. I’ll see to it that your dance card is full, and I’ll make sure most of the gentlemen I fix you up with are looking for wives.” She picked up her fork. “During our walk, I’ll take you to a little jewelry shop that sells the most beautiful pins. You can wear one on your gowns whenever I chaperone you. My aunt got one for me when I started my first Season. She said it would bring me luck.”