A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

by Fanny Finch

  Dinner was announced sometime later, and the entire party gathered in the main dining hall. Once again, Edward escorted Evelyn. He saw her seated in a chair near the head of the table while he took the seat beside her.

  “Friends,” his father called as he clinked a fork against the crystal glass in his hand. “A father has very few opportunities to feel proud,” he began. “They are relegated to the big achievements in this world, but very rarely does he get to celebrate the same event twice.”

  Edward restrained the perplex feeling from appearing on his face. What did his father mean by that?

  “As you know, we once gathered to celebrate the engagement of my son, Jonathan, to the lovely Lady Evelyn. Unfortunately, that union was not to be. However, God has seen it fit to still bind the houses of Drakmore and Eventide through the marriage of our children.”

  Rancor roiled inside of Edward. Could this day not have passed without the mention of his late brother’s name?

  “Congratulations Edward and Evelyn. May your happiness last forever,” he declared. The room erupted in simultaneous agreement. Edward did his best to smile. Dinner proceeded.

  The menu was vast. Edward could hardly keep track. In the end, he chose the beef wellington and vegetables – his favorite meal. He leaned closer to Evelyn. “Are you enjoying your meal?”

  Evelyn nodded silently. “It is very good.”

  “How have you been?”

  “Well, thank you,” she replied. She cut her loin of pork and placed it in her mouth. It was so delicate that it could have been a dance.

  “I have missed our talks,” he continued enthusiastically. “I look forward to resuming them.”

  She smiled modestly. “We used to have nice talks.”

  “The best,” he continued. “Remember the days we sat under the sun in the garden and talked about our hopes?”

  “When Jonathan was at work,” she replied. The response seemed almost automatic. It pained him to hear it.

  “Yes, while my brother was at work,” Edward confirmed.

  “I am sorry, Edward. I did not mean…”

  He shook his head dismissively and smiled. “There is no need to apologize. You speak the truth.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I am very glad to see you again,” he whispered. “It really has been too long.”

  “I am sorry that we lost touch,” she replied. “I lost my way for a very long time,” she continued.

  “And have you found it now?” he questioned. He had all but forgotten his meal. He only wanted to hear her speak to him. Her voice was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

  “You should eat,” she answered, instead of responding to his question. She cut another piece of pork and placed it into her mouth. Edward did as she suggested.

  After dinner, the party gathered in the music room for entertainment. His stepmother sat at the pianoforte and enchanted the room with her elegant playing and melodic voice. Everyone seemed entranced, except for Andrew, who was conspicuously absent as ever. Evelyn, on the other hand, looked completely isolated, sitting alone on the small chaise in the far corner of the room.

  Edward left his seat and walked toward his betrothed. “Would you take the air with me?” he asked.

  Evelyn looked conflicted. “I am not sure…”

  “There is nothing to be afraid of. We are engaged, and we are only going out onto the balcony. There is nothing clandestine about it. I assure you. You will be perfectly safe.” Edward extended his hand and waited for her to take it.

  She bit her lip, and Edward smiled. She always did that when she was nervous. He found it charming. He always had. Finally, she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out the French doors to the balcony.

  Evelyn kept her distance as they stepped onto the balcony. Edward wished she would come closer, but he understood her reticence. She still loved Jonathan. She had always loved him.

  One day, my sweet Evelyn, you will forget about my brother. You will remember only my love for you. You have always been the dearest thing to me. If only I had dared to tell you before.

  “You look like a girl again,” he said as she turned to him. His palms lay flat against the cold surface of the stone balcony wall. He had to do so, or else he feared he might reach out to touch her, and he did not want to alarm her. Evelyn was not ready to receive his affection.

  “A girl?” she questioned.

  “Don’t you remember? When our family traveled to the Lake Country that summer? You were seventeen then,” he commented. “You wore a green dress, similar to this one.”

  Evelyn frowned slightly, then her forehead smoothed as she remembered. “Yes,” she said with a more cheerful smile. “It was the summer Andrew fell into the lake and almost gave the Duchess a heart attack.”

  “Yes,” Edward chuckled. “We had to fish him out, like a trout.”

  “He was always getting into mischief,” she continued. “He has always been such a spirited young man.” She turned and met his gaze. “How did you remember that?” she questioned.

  Edward’s smile broadened. “I remember everything concerning you,” he answered.

  He could see the confusion on Evelyn’s face. She did not understand. She did not know.

  “Why?”

  “Because I have always loved you, Evelyn,” he answered. “From the day I first saw you until this moment. I have loved only you.”

  Chapter 3

  It was the night before her wedding, and Evelyn was restless. The meal at dinner had no taste. The music Geneviève played was flat to her ears, despite the young woman’s very skillful playing. It was as if the world had gone grey around her.

  She trudged to her chamber, and Geneviève followed her. The young woman would be spending the night in her room, a custom her mother insisted upon, given they were spending the night at Eventide. She did not wish Edward to see her before the wedding day.

  Once in her room, Geneviève helped Evelyn undress. She stood like a doll as Geneviève moved her limbs. She felt so weak and tired. Lost.

  Geneviève helped her into her nightgown, and still, Evelyn could not find the strength to help her.

  “Evelyn?”

  She turned to her companion and replied weakly. “Yes?”

  “Why do you marry when you are so unhappy?” she asked sadly. “Forgive my forwardness, but I think this marriage will make you sadder.”

  Evelyn gave her friend a small smile. “I have a duty to my family,” she replied.

  “What of your happiness?” Geneviève asked.

  Evelyn walked to the bed and sat upon the edge. “I was happy once. Truly and sincerely happy,” she answered. “That time is gone. I have to accept what is.”

  Geneviève kneeled before her and took her hand. “Evelyn, you can be happy again. Happiness does not come but once in a lifetime,” she assured.

  “Love does,” Evelyn replied.

  Geneviève shook her head gently. “Not even that. My father was married once before he met my mother. If love could not come more than once, then I would not be here. My father had no children from his first union. I am his second child by my mother.”

  Evelyn looked at her friend. She wished she was right, but her heart could not accept it. The only love for her was Jonathan Evers, and he would never come back to her. He was gone.

  “We better get to bed,” Evelyn replied. Geneviève gave her a forlorn look but said nothing. She got to her feet, walked around the four-poster bed, and climbed in beside Evelyn.

  The two women lay beside each other. Evelyn folded her hands over her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. Her life was going to change on the morrow. There was no stopping it.

  Geneviève shifted in her place beside her. She knew the young woman had more to say, but she was too polite to press the subject. They had come to know each other a great deal in the past two years. She knew Geneviève’s temperament better than anyone did, and she understood her.

  Everyone wa
s thrilled about her marriage. Everyone but the two women in that room. Evelyn had tried to persuade herself to happiness, but it was useless. Geneviève only insisted she could be happy again if she would wait for love.

  Time crept by, and still, Evelyn could not sleep. Her mind wandered to far-off places, to a time when there was someone who held her hand and touched her heart. Her hand reached for the locket that no longer adorned her neck.

  The locket had been put away, but the memories of the man who had given it had not. Jonathan was always with her. He had left the world but lived in her heart every day. She rolled onto her side as she thought of their engagement party.

  Pain filled her soul as she lay there, silently weeping. She missed Jonathan so much. She missed his smiles, their talks, the looks of love in his eyes. She missed the way he kissed her.

  Evelyn prayed for the strength to endure the morrow’s wedding. The strength to be a good wife to Edward and to do her best to honor him. She hugged her pillow tightly as she cried herself to sleep. Her attempt to hide her tears was unsuccessful.

  Geneviève’s arm wrapped around her shoulders in a gentle hug. “It will be all right, Evelyn. You will see. God will make it right.”

  ***

  Evelyn sat at her dresser, her expression stoic despite the anxiety beating in her breast. Geneviève stood behind her, helping her get ready. Her mother was also there to oversee every step the young woman was taking. Her mother wanted everything to be perfect.

  “Geneviève, would you hurry. We will be late at the rate you are going,” her mother commented. She began to pace immediately, her hands wringing in front of her.

  “I am sorry, Madam,” Geneviève replied. She quickened her pace.

  “Mama, please do calm down. Everything will be well,” she replied. She meant to convince her mother as much as herself. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her blonde hair was in large curls that framed her face. The back was twisted and braided into a bun, and Geneviève was still putting everything in place.

  Everything will be all right, Evelyn. You can do this. You must do this. Strength.

  Evelyn almost jumped when a knock resounded at the door. Her father’s level voice followed soon after. “Evelyn, dear, it is time.”

  Her heart quickened. It was too soon. She was not yet ready. Her mind was still thinking of escape.

  “Do you see? Your father is here,” her mother interjected, flustered. She rushed to the door and opened it. “Your daughter is not ready,” her mother informed as her father stepped into the room.

  Her father smiled at her. “She looks ready to me,” he stated proudly. He walked to her side and kissed the top of her head. “You look lovely, my dear.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” Evelyn replied hollowly.

  Geneviève finished her hair. “C’est fini,” she exclaimed, with joy Evelyn knew was for her parents’ benefit.

  Evelyn’s eyes met Geneviève’s in the mirror. She was sure the young woman knew her thoughts. She smiled at her, and Evelyn nodded as she remembered her words from the previous night.

  God will make it right.

  “Finally,” her mother replied. “Come along. The Reverend and the guests are waiting.”

  Evelyn stood slowly, despite her mother’s urgent request. She did not want to do this. She turned to her father, her eyes pleading. He simply smiled at her.

  Her mother smoothed the skirt of the expensive muslin and silk dress, which had been purchased from a fashionable shop in Paris. Evelyn wanted everything simple. The dress had no special adornments, and she wore no veil, but a thick ribbon about her head. Her bouquet was of snapdragons. Geneviève placed it in her hand as she stepped toward her father.

  “Come, my girl. Your husband awaits you.”

  Evelyn slipped her arm into her father’s and allowed him to escort her. She felt numb. Her heart was beating, but she could not feel it. She felt nothing but empty. Evelyn resisted the urge to cry.

  The large stateroom of Eventide had been transformed. Garlands of flowers decorated the large mantle over the fireplace. Large candle stands illuminated the room further, and rows of gold-colored velvet chairs filled the space. A long red carpet lined the aisle, and at the head, Reverend Allum stood in his black robes. Beside him stood Edward.

  Evelyn squeezed her father’s arm as they stood in the doorway. He patted it lightly. “Soon, you will be a bride. You make me proud,” her father whispered to her. Her heart sank.

  The music began to play. A small orchestra had been acquired for the occasion, and their cost was well worth it, as the melodious tune filled the room. The guests stood and turned to look at her. Her father took a step forward.

  Evelyn forced herself to walk. Her legs felt weak. Her palms were sweating, and she felt sick. Still, she continued. The few feet to the top of the aisle felt like a crossing of The Channel. Finally, they met Edward.

  Edward was smiling brightly as she met him. She wished she could reciprocate, but she could not. Her father placed her hand on her betrothed’s, and Evelyn closed her eyes briefly.

  Jonathan’s face flashed before her eyes. She could see his tall, handsome figure before her as if it were yesterday. She could remember every wonderful moment that they shared. Moments she never had with Edward. She never wanted.

  It should be you, Jonathan. I should be standing here with you. Your face smiling at me. My hand in yours. Our lives becoming one. Not Edward. Please, forgive me, my love. My heart will always be yours.

  Why did this have to be? Why had Jonathan lost his life when he was so young and strong? Why had her parents arranged this marriage? It was hard enough to marry, but to marry Jonathan’s brother was torture. She knew Edward; she loved him as a brother, but not more.

  You cannot control fate, Evelyn. There is nothing to be done but to accept what is. Jonathan is dead. He will never return to you, and the decision has been made. You will marry Edward. It is too late to retract the promise made. You must see it through.

  Her breath quickened as they turned to the Reverend. She heard the guests sit behind them. Reverend Allum, who was a tall and stocky man, raised his chin and declared. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered this day to witness the union of Evelyn Theodora Pritchett to Edward Vance Evers.”

  Jonathan. Not Edward. Jonathan.

  Evelyn could not bear to listen as the priest continued with the ceremony. Her face remained placid. She spoke when she was called to, but there was no feeling in her voice. It did not even sound like her own.

  It was as if she was possessed by some alternate version of herself. It was that version that was performing the act of marriage when the true Evelyn hid within herself, crying out for someone to help her escape.

  She dared to glance over her shoulder at the smiling faces of their guests. Everyone she knew was there. Her mother had forgotten no one. She saw to that. If she tried to run away, it would embarrass both her family and the Evers before all of their acquaintances.

  Stop your foolish thinking, girl.

  Evelyn returned her gaze to the reverend, but on the way, she was met by Edward’s delighted expression. Her heart was stricken by it. He was a good man, honorable, and in love with her, but she could not share the sentiment. She did not love him, and she could not say she ever would.

  You deserve better, Edward. You deserve to marry a woman who loves you as much as I loved Jonathan.

  Evelyn tried to force a smile onto her face but found it impossible. Instead, she met the austere gaze of the reverend as he continued the ceremony.

  “I require, and charge you, as ye will answer on that dreadful Day of Judgment when the secrets of all hearts will be disclosed, that if there be any impediment why these two persons may not be joined together in holy matrimony, ye are to declare it,” Reverend Allum declared.

  The declaration seemed to reverberate throughout the room, and Evelyn found herself wishing someone would speak up. It was a futile wish. There was no cause for them not to wed, only her sin
gular desire.

  Suddenly, the sound of heavy running footfalls echoed from the hall before the doors swung open, and a booming voice cried out, “I object!”

  The startled murmur of the room at the unexpected intrusion could hardly overshadow the thudding relief in Evelyn’s heart. She looked up at the figure in the door, and immediately that beating was arrested.

  There, standing in the glowing light from the corridor window, was a man, a familiar man whose face had lost nearly all its color, distorted from the fatigue.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Reverend Allum demanded. Evelyn blinked rapidly; sure that her eyes were playing tricks on her. Was this an apparition? Everyone around her seemed to have a hard time recognizing the man as well.