by Bree Wolf
Confusion clouded his face as he looked at her, his arms still tightly wrapped around her middle, refusing to release her. “What is it?”
Evelyn swallowed, hoping he would not be angry with her for asking him to break a rule. “I…I was wondering if you’d mind,” she licked her lips, hoping courage would not fail her, “waiting…until we know each other better.” After briefly dropping her gaze, Evelyn boldly looked into his eyes, seeing the confusion on his face deepen.
However, when he spoke, it was she who found herself surprised. “I would mind,” he replied, his voice determined but not unkind as his arms tightened their hold on her. He swallowed, and for a moment, it was as though he dropped his mask–the cold detachedness he always wore–and she could see deep longing in his eyes. “I’ve waited long enough.”
Taken aback by his forthrightness, Evelyn stared up at him, enjoying the honesty that rang in his words. “I’ve waited longer,” she challenged him, delighting in the small quirk that came to his lips.
Then slowly he shook his head. “I doubt that.”
A wide smile fought to break through, and suddenly feeling completely at ease, Evelyn let it. “Is that so? Would you care to elaborate?”
His brows quirked. “Would you?”
Evelyn laughed, her fingers trailing down the front of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric. Noting the way his eyes closed briefly and he seemed to hold his breath, she whispered, “I’ve always–quite inexplicably–found myself drawn to you especially since last year when I spent more time here after your father’s passing.”
His gaze widened, and Evelyn could see as plain as day that he had not noticed, had not been aware of her partiality toward him.
“I always found my thoughts straying to you,” she admitted, feeling the muscles in his arms that held her relax slowly, “and my heart skip a beat whenever you were near.” Evelyn’s insides quirked at such bold honesty, and yet, it felt unexpectedly liberating.
Lord Ashwood exhaled an audible breath and blinked rapidly a couple of times. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t see me,” Evelyn retorted, unable not to tease him. “You didn’t look at me beyond the doctor’s daughter. You didn’t see–”
“No, I–” He swallowed, his narrowed gaze sweeping over her face. “I did see you. I simply…I didn’t see how you felt.” He nodded. “But I saw you.”
Stunned, Evelyn stared at him.
A hint of discomfort flitted across his face before he sighed, his feet shifting a bit away from her. Still, his arms remained where they were, firmly holding her in place…as well as himself? “My thoughts were drawn to you as well,” he finally admitted, his gaze watchful and a touch apprehensive. Could he truly not see her surprise? Could he truly misread it into something disapproving?
His brows drew down further. “You didn’t notice?” he asked, surprise and a hint of pleasure warring in his voice.
Closing her eyes, Evelyn bit her lower lip, slowly shaking her head. “I did not,” she said, her gaze seeking his once more. “I thought you disliked me. I thought you disliked me being here.”
“I did.”
Evelyn felt her eyes widen as the shock of his words slowly stole over her limbs, weighing them down as though they were suddenly filled with lead. “You did?” she all but stammered, taken aback at the sudden pain that radiated through her heart.
“Whenever we would cross paths,” he began, “all I could think about was…you.” He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable with this level of honesty. “I…you…” Again, he swallowed, unable to express the overwhelming emotions that had seized him as much as her.
Evelyn smiled as she finally understood his objection to her presence. Never before had she received a more wonderful compliment. “It would seem you are not the only one misinterpreting situations,” she said lightly, her heart thudding wildly at the delicate promise that hung on their words.
Nonetheless, at her observation, his eyes widened, and his arms finally dropped from her waist. “What?” he all but gasped, a hint of panic in his eyes.
Evelyn frowned, wondering what had shocked him thus. After all, had she not said something to that end to him before? Was he truly so terrified of sharing that secret with her?
“You don’t wish for others to know,” she observed, thinking out loud as she tried to make sense of him. “You’d rather they think you cold and uncaring than confused. Why is that?”
His jaw clenched, and he stepped away, putting a painful distance between them. “I’m not confused,” he insisted, his voice rough and defensive.
“Yes, you are,” Evelyn objected, closing the distance he had created between them, unwilling to allow him to hide from her. “Admit it.”
His dark grey eyes met hers. However, below that look of exasperation, she thought to see a flicker of desire to confide in her. Then, his face hardened once more, and it was gone. “Do I truly have to explain this to you?” He turned away from her. “What man would wish to be known by others as easily confused? Why should my family trust me to see to their well-being if I cannot even…?” His voice trailed off, and more than anything, Evelyn heard loneliness in his words. Never had he shared these thoughts with anyone, had he?
Stepping up to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen as he held himself firmly away from her. “My words were not meant as insult or criticism. They were merely an observation.”
“Of my greatest weakness!” he hissed, the muscles under her hand tensing. “Of my deficiency! Of–”
“No!” Her hand tightened on his shoulder, and she urged him to look at her, stepping around him when he held himself rigid. “Look at me!” she demanded, her voice hard as she sought his eyes. “You are the only one who thinks of it as a deficiency. Certainly, we all have strengths and weaknesses, but those do not make us worth more or less than anyone else.”
His gaze hard, he finally met hers. “I’ve seen the way others look at me,” he snarled. “They’re appalled, or they pity me.”
“You’re wrong!”
He scoffed, “Of course, you would think so as I cannot read their thoughts the way you can.”
Although not unaffected by the pain in his voice, Evelyn still felt her anger rise. Grabbing him by the arms, she stood tall in front of him, daring him to ignore her. “What pushes people away is not your struggle to understand their meaning,” she told him, feeling his muscles twitch under her fingers, “but your insistence to hide how you feel, hoping to deny them what you feel you’ve been denied: the ability to interpret and thus understand.” She inhaled a deep breath, noting the way his gaze held hers.
Listening intently, he had given up his attempt to free himself from her, a hint of curiosity in his silver-grey eyes.
“What pushes people away is that cold demeanour of yours,” she whispered, praying that her words would not offend him anew, “as though you don’t care, as though you don’t feel.” She stepped closer, and as her hands slowly slid up his chest, he once more drew in an unsteady breath. “But you do feel. You feel just like I do.” She nodded to him, her gaze holding his, urging him to believe her. “Don’t hide yourself, and I promise I shall do the same.”
His forehead creased the slightest bit.
“Honesty,” Evelyn stated. “Speak to me and listen to me as I shall, too.” Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, hoping that he would not try to run from her for she had already decided that she would not let him. “Ask me. Ask me anything, and I promise I shall tell you the truth.”
Chapter Twenty-One – Fear of Rejection
Staring at his wife, Richard had never felt so overwhelmed in his life.
Never before had he focused on his emotions as they were chaotic and unstructured. More often than not, he did not know what to make of them. Early on, he had learnt to ignore them, to force them back and treat them as insignificant. Only emotions supported by reason, responses he had learnt to be appropriate, he allowed
to surface.
However, lately, whenever he found himself near Evelyn, random emotions broke through without permission. Richard had no idea what to do about that.
Holding his wife’s gaze, he realised that she meant what she said. Her dark eyes were open and fixed on his as she patiently waited for him to ask his question. Swallowing, Richard wracked his brain as her closeness, the memory of her touch seemed to addle his mind.
Then he remembered her confession that she felt drawn to him. “How…?” Richard swallowed, realising that he had never before spoken so intimately to another. “How did it make you feel when I kissed you?” he finally asked, his gaze holding hers, unwilling to allow any little hint to her emotions slip by him.
At his question, her jaw dropped a fraction and her eyes widened slightly before a soft flush darkened her cheeks. Had he embarrassed her? Was she angry with him? Disappointed?
“Should I not have asked that?”
Shaking her head, she stepped forward. “No. No, it’s fine. I–” She licked her lips, and for a moment, her gaze seemed unfocused as it slid around the room. Then the muscles in her jaw tensed, and she forced her gaze back to meet his. “You were not wrong to ask. It is an honest question, and it deserves an honest answer. However, I have to admit I was…taken aback.” She exhaled a rapid breath, a tentative smile playing on her lips. “I tell you honestly, I’m not used to expressing such intimate thoughts and emotions to another, especially one I barely know.”
Surprised by the depth of her honesty, Richard felt his own curiosity grow. And so, despite the unease she had just admitted to, he asked, “Why?”
Her fingers returned to the band of her robe. Her eyes, however, did not fall from his. “Because doing so makes one vulnerable. Like a warrior who dons his armour in order to protect himself, we all shield the most vulnerable parts of who we are. We’re afraid to be wounded, to feel pain, to suffer.”
Richard nodded, recognising the emotion she described. “What you say makes sense,” he agreed, noting that his own unease seemed to be decreasing when he saw how affected she, too, was by revealing what lived deep inside.
“Deep down, emotions always make sense,” Evelyn replied, the colour in her cheeks diminishing, “at least to the one concerned. There is always a reason. Always a connection. A cause. A consequence. Deep down, emotions are logical. However, to understand their logic is far from easy because we ourselves are not solely logical, either.” Evelyn scoffed, her lips curling into a smile as she shook her head. “Did that make any sense at all?”
Enjoying the look of confusion on her features, Richard nodded.
“All I’m trying to say is that if we were honest with ourselves,” she continued, “we would see the truth and understand why we feel what we feel. However, in order to protect ourselves, we often choose to look the other way, to not dig deeper in order to understand, even to lie to ourselves because we fear to know the truth.”
Taking a step toward her, Richard held her gaze, his own curious as he searched her face. “What truth did you fear?”
Briefly, Evelyn closed her eyes. “That…that I care for you.”
Richard felt the muscles in his body tense. “Why?”
She licked her lips. “Because I believed you could never care for me,” she said, her gaze unwavering as it held his. Still, her jaw seemed tense as she spoke. “I thought if I did not admit the truth to myself, I would not feel its pain.”
Staring into her face, Richard felt all tension leave his body. “Do you care for me?” he asked boldly, wondering at the woman who had made him so daring within so short a time.
“I do,” she whispered as a slight shiver shook her frame.
“And how did it make you feel when I kissed you?” he pressed, unwilling to abandon the matter as every fibre in his body strove to know the truth.
To not merely suspect it.
Guess it.
But know it instead.
Evelyn swallowed, her fingers clenching around the band of her robe. Still, a soft smile played on her lips. “Partly, it frightened me,” she said, and he held his breath, “because I feared it would force me to see the truth, that I do care for you without knowing whether or not you returned my affections.”
Recognising her fear as one of his own, Richard asked, “And the other part?”
Her smile deepened, setting her dark eyes aglow. “It rejoiced in the feel of you.”
“Truly?” Richard asked, staring at her as though she had just now risen from the ground.
Evelyn chuckled, “Do you doubt me? Do you doubt my word?”
“No.” He shook his head, still feeling dazed. “I merely…At times, you seemed reluctant. That’s all. A part of me cannot believe your words to be true.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Perhaps that is because you, too, fear to not have your affections returned.” Her jaw quivered as she spoke, and Richard wondered if she still doubted how he felt about her. Certainly, he had not spoken of his affections for her. Only she had. But could she not read how he felt about her on his face? Did other people not possess this ability? Or was there another reason why she seemed on edge?
Richard’s eyes narrowed as they swept over her face, trying to read on her features what she did not say. “You seem nervous,” he observed, trying to piece together the subtle details in her expression that might help him understand. However, although she had given him context to assist him in his understanding of her, Richard could not be certain. “Is it because I have not yet given you an answer?”
Her brows drew down, and he supposed that his question confused her.
“You asked to postpone our wedding night,” he clarified, taking note of the slight widening of her eyes when understanding found her. “Are you concerned I would refuse your request?”
The ghost of a smile on her face, she shook her head. “I am not concerned.”
Richard inhaled a deep breath, his gaze once more gliding over her face. A familiar frustration set in when his mind failed to interpret what he saw, unable to draw the conclusions others would have come to. “What then?” he asked, his voice harsh with beginning frustration. “I would ask you to speak plainly.”
For a moment, Evelyn remained silent. However, from the way her gaze grew distant, Richard believed she sought to find the right words to express herself. Then her dark eyes came to rest on his once more. “Do you truly believe that you are the only one who has doubts about others’ intentions, motives, affections? Do you truly believe that everyone else knows with certainty how others feel?” She shook her head. “Let me tell you that it is not so. While I admit that you may be at a greater disadvantage when it comes to reading others, you are not the only one who struggles with this.”
Never had Richard discussed this with anyone. Never had he spoken of his own shortcoming. Never had he asked for advice or sought to share his doubts with another.
Therefore, no one had ever spoken to him of their own experience. Always had Richard assumed that the people around him simply knew.
Knew how others felt.
At least if they cared to know.
“My eyes see…affection when you look at me,” Evelyn finally said, her voice trembling as she held his gaze, “and yet, I do not dare believe them for it would be foolish to believe something simply because one wishes to. Can I trust my eyes? Or are they deceiving me? Simply showing me what I wish to see?” Swallowing, she shrugged. “How can I know? I’m hindered, blinded by fear of rejection.” She inhaled a slow breath. “Just like you.”
Chapter Twenty-Two – No One Else
Feeling her insides quiver, Evelyn stood her ground.
A part of her could see that her words had stunned him speechless. Still, another part of her was too preoccupied with her own fear of having her affections rejected that she could not be certain of her husband’s deeper feelings.
The way he had lit up when she had shared her own feelings with him had given her hope. However, in this mo
ment, when her emotions ran wild, she did not dare trust her own observations. Never had she felt so vulnerable.
Her husband blinked then, and the paralysis that had befallen him evaporated into thin air. A smile tickled the corners of his mouth, and Evelyn felt her own heart skip a beat when he suddenly reached for her.
His fingers gently grasped her chin as his grey eyes held hers without doubt, without hesitation. “I do care for you, Evelyn,” he whispered, the words feeling like a caress against her skin as his other arm pulled her closer into his embrace.
A moment later, his mouth closed over hers and all thoughts fled her mind, leaving not a single doubt behind.
The gentleness with which he held her against him, with which his lips moved over hers spoke of more than mere passion. Indeed, if Evelyn dared trust her own instincts, she could not help but believe that he truly did care for her. Why else would he have shared so much of himself with her? Opened up about something that clearly pained him? Shamed him?
“Do you believe me?” he whispered when he lifted his head and gazed down into her eyes, his own suddenly calm.
Evelyn nodded. “I do.” Relief and joy tugged on her lips, and she smiled up at him without restraint.
A rare smile flickered over her husband’s face as well before he took a step back, his hands still gently holding hers. “And yet you wish for me to leave?” he asked, his voice, however, held a teasing note. “You wish to postpone our wedding night?”
“I never said I wanted you to leave,” Evelyn pointed out as her body relaxed at the lightness in their conversation. “But I wish to get to know you better. I wish to speak to you and have you speak to me.”
Her husband nodded. Still, there was a touch of confusion in the way his brows drew down, and his mouth opened as though he wished to ask a question but closed once more before he dared.