by Bree Wolf
“What is it?” Evelyn dared him. “Honesty. Remember?”
He cleared his throat. “I do not mean to pressure you,” he voiced carefully. “But can you tell me for how long you wish to postpone it?”
Evelyn’s mouth opened, and she was about to repeat what she had said before when he stopped her. “I know what you said, until we know each other better.” The space between his brows wrinkled. “But what does that mean? How will I know?”
Evelyn nodded, relieved that he dared reveal his insecurity to her. “Well, since I cannot give you a specific date, I would suggest that I let you know. Does that seem fair?”
Her husband nodded, a touch of relief on his face. “It does.” For a moment, his gaze held hers, and he seemed indecisive before he stepped back. “I bid you a good night, my lady.”
“Call me Evelyn.”
Stopping in his tracks, his gaze remained on hers, searching. “Evelyn,” he whispered as though to test what her name would feel like on his lips.
Watching him, Evelyn held her breath, knowing that his use of her given name was not something that came easily to him. It might seem like an insignificant detail, and yet, it was not. “If you don’t object, my lord,” she said, feeling her hands tremble with anticipation as well as a hint of fear to be rejected.
The right corner of his mouth curled up slightly, and his grey eyes darkened as he approached her. “Under one condition only, my lady.”
Evelyn swallowed. “Name it.”
“That you call me Richard.”
Joy filled her heart. “I will,” she agreed wholeheartedly, smiling up at him with utter delight. “I’d like that very much.”
“Good.” Returning her smile, he gently brushed the knuckles of his right hand along her jaw. “Good night then.”
“Stay.”
Confused, his brows drew down. “But…you said–?”
“I said I never asked you to leave,” Evelyn pointed out, enjoying their way of communicating with one another very much. Although it did not yet come easy to either one of them, there was a gentle delight in the way they tried to understand each other. She could only hope they would always be able to speak so honestly. Perhaps his deficiency was a blessing in disguise. After all, without it, Evelyn doubted that they would have spoken to each other the way they were now.
“I admit I don’t understand,” Richard said, his shoulders tense. And yet, the look on his face was not nearly as pained as she had seen it before.
“Then I shall explain,” Evelyn replied as she looked up into his darkened eyes. “I would like you to spend the night.”
His brows rose, and he stared at her.
Evelyn smiled. “Sleep next to me.”
The grey in his eyes darkened as he watched her carefully. “Sleep?”
Evelyn nodded. “Sleep.”
When her husband nodded his head in agreement, Evelyn stepped away and slid into bed, gesturing for him to join her. Her pulse hammered in her neck, and she had to will her breath not to rush in and out as though she were on the run. Calm, she whispered to herself, glancing at her husband as he lay back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling above.
Would this awkwardness ever subside? Evelyn wondered. But then she reminded herself that they had already embarked on the one journey that could lead to a deeper understanding of each other. “It is your turn to answer a question,” she whispered after extinguishing the last candle.
In the dark, she could hear him draw in a slow breath and felt rather than saw his renewed tension. She, too, felt apprehensive about asking him this. However, her heart needed to know and although doubts remained, Evelyn had hope. More than before. His words and actions had given her hope, allowed her to believe that theirs would not always remain a marriage of convenience.
“Why did you marry me?” Evelyn asked, her hands clenched around one another. “Only because of your father? Or…?” Closing her eyes, Evelyn’s voice trailed off, hoping he would answer and fearing it all the same.
***
Taken aback, Richard stared up at the dark ceiling, his wife’s shallow breaths reaching his ears more acutely now that he had been robbed of his sense of sight. He could almost picture her chest rising and falling, her face tense as she lay in the dark, waiting.
Waiting for his answer.
But what was he to say? How was he to explain without offending her? Without ruining the tender understanding that had begun to blossom between them so unexpectedly?
And yet, they had promised each other honesty. He could not break his word. He would not. Never had he lied for any reason whatsoever. Lying was deceitful, and he had never understood the many reasons people had for lying to someone they supposedly cared about.
Richard sighed. Even if it would hurt initially, there was no other choice than honesty. If not tonight, then perhaps one day she would be able to understand even if he chose his words poorly.
“When I first read my father’s letter,” Richard began, his ears straining to hear the rhythm of her breathing, to have any indication for how his words were received, “I was angry.”
His wife inhaled a rapid breath through her nose, but otherwise remained quiet.
Swallowing, Richard knew that his words upset her, and yet, a part of him could not help but delight in the fact. She truly did care for him, did she not? Why else would his words upset her? Or was he misinterpreting her reaction? Had she already fallen asleep?
Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, Richard thought to see the slight movement of her lashes rising and falling and breathed a sigh of relief. Then he inhaled a deep breath of his own and continued on. “I was angry because there seemed to be no good reason for us to marry.” He sighed, “And I cannot deny that I…disliked that my father went over my head and did not even have the courage to inform me of his decision himself. I was never able to understand him, which ought to come as no surprise. However, I always thought that I had his respect,” he scoffed. “And then my mother handed me his letter, and everything changed. His decision made me doubt how he truly saw me, and I could not help the anger that followed.”
Glancing at his wife once more, Richard wished he could see her face. Even if he only read another’s expression with more luck than knowledge, it would at least give him some indication.
“I’m not angry with you,” her soft voice echoed to his ears, “if that’s what you think. I asked for honesty. You did nothing wrong.” Despite her words, Richard could not help but feel that he had disappointed her.
And it pained him more than he would have expected.
“It is true that I disliked my father’s decision,” Richard continued, knowing that although he had been honest, he had not yet answered her question fully. Inhaling a deep breath, he rolled onto his side, his eyes trailing the dim outline of her profile in the dark. “But it is also true that there is no one else I’d rather have beside me. Right here. Right now.”
The moment the words had left his lips, Richard held his breath. Had he said too much?
A slight quivering in Evelyn’s jaw was her first sign that she had heard him before she, too, rolled onto her side, her dark eyes almost glowing in the faint light drifting in through a gap in the curtains. A soft smile played on her darkened features, and Richard felt his heart beat wildly in his chest.
“I feel the same,” she finally whispered. “The way this marriage came to be was not…the way I would have liked it, but I am glad that my father tied me to you and not another.”
Watching her snuggle deeper into her pillow while her eyes remained on his, Richard suddenly felt the deep desire to stay in this bed forever. He felt at peace, understood and…even cared for.
“I thank you for speaking so openly,” his wife said, her features gentle. “I know it’s hard to speak without restraint. People rarely do so. They observe and deduce, and they’re often wrong. Figuring out what goes on in another’s heart and mind is not an exact science. Only because someone is smiling does not
mean that he or she is happy. There is so much more to it.”
Richard nodded. “I’ve come to the same conclusion, which makes life rather frustrating. Is nothing ever truly as it seems? Are there always hidden meanings, agendas, intentions?”
“Not always, and I promise I shall make an effort to always say what I mean.”
“I thank you for that…Evelyn.” Even in the dark, Richard could see her answering smile at his use of her given name and it made his heart soar. Perhaps he had not given his father enough credit. Perhaps he had been wiser than Richard had thought. Perhaps he had found his son the one woman who would come to understand him and help him understand the world.
Richard liked that thought very much.
Chapter Twenty-Three – Famished
Upon awakening the next morning, Evelyn found her husband still in her bed. Deep down, she had expected him to be gone, to have sneaked out in the middle of the night or early that morning, knowing how new, unfamiliar situations made him uncomfortable.
And yet, he had not.
The thought warmed her heart despite the look of unease on his face as they looked at one another across the pillows.
Evelyn felt her cheeks warm and she had to fight the urge to drop her gaze. “It feels as though waking next to a stranger, does it not?” she asked boldly, hoping he would not misunderstand. Dimly, she wondered if she would spend the rest of her life hoping her husband would not misunderstand her meaning.
Brushing a hand over his face, Richard nodded, a quirk to his lips that spoke of relief rather than offence. “It is indeed,” he agreed, his grey eyes slowly returning to hers. “As though the night washed away all familiarity.”
Relieved, Evelyn sighed, “Then we shall recapture it,” she suggested, sitting up, a teasing tone in her voice. “And then we shall endeavour to guard it well, for I assure you that it will try to sneak off again.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, “We must be steadfast indeed.”
Sitting side by side in bed, Evelyn smiled at him, but felt her breath catch in her throat when his knee brushed against hers as he shifted his position. Still, she willed herself not to react startled, to flinch, to allow this moment to slip away. After all, awkwardness still lurked on the horizon, and she knew she could not allow it to reclaim them.
“I shall see you at breakfast then,” Richard said, a hint of a question in his tone of voice.
Evelyn nodded.
For a moment, his gaze lingered on hers, and she got the distinct feeling that he was reluctant to leave. The silver-grey of his eyes shone brightly in the early morning light as his gaze seemed to tie them together with an invisible bond.
Everything remained still before only his hand moved. Slowly, ever so slowly, it gently descended upon hers. His skin felt warm, comforting, and yet, the sensation of his touch sent shivers down Evelyn’s back. Gently, the pad of his thumb brushed over the back of her hand, moving over the sensitive flesh where thumb met index finger.
Drawing in a rapid breath, Evelyn could not look away as his gaze still held her captive. All her senses were focused on him, the softness of his breath against her lips, the tenderness of his touch, the warmth of his body. Never would she have thought she could be that aware of another’s presence. She felt him almost as much as she felt herself, her own limbs, her own heartbeat, her own breath.
“I believe it is my turn,” he whispered, his face barely a hair’s breadth from hers. “If you don’t object.”
Evelyn smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
His kiss was soft and tender as his body leaned into hers, not demanding, but merely touching, seeking contact. His hand left hers and rose to caress her cheek, his fingertips gently tracing a line over her cheekbones and down along the line of her jaw.
Goosebumps broke out all over Evelyn’s body, and she reached out her own hands to feel him as well. His skin was rougher than hers, but her fingers delighted at the new sensation. She could have remained here with him forever…
…if her stomach had not had other plans, voicing its neglect with a rather loud and unmistakable protest.
Laughing, Evelyn broke their kiss, feeling her cheeks flame red-hot as she reluctantly met her husband’s gaze. “I apologise, my lord. I suppose the morning is later than we thought.”
He, too, had a smile on his face. “I suppose it must be.” His gaze sobered, his eyes settling on hers once more. “And you are to call me Richard.”
Evelyn nodded. “Well, then, Richard, if you would be so kind as to leave so that I may dress and head downstairs to breakfast.”
The hint of a grin touched his face, and Evelyn wondered how she could ever have thought him cold and detached when in truth the man who was now her husband was full of warmth and tenderness, well-hidden, but there nonetheless. “And if I do not leave?” he teased, his brows rising into daring arches.
Evelyn crossed her arms, meeting his gaze with an insistent one of her own. “Then I’m afraid I shall take a bite out of you.”
Instead of the expected laughter, Evelyn found her husband’s face grow still and his eyes darken, not with anger or distance, but with intensity. Then he leaned towards her, and before she knew what was happening, his lips claimed hers once more.
This time, his kiss was demanding as he drew her into his arms, holding her tightly as though he feared she might slip from his grasp. His lips teased hers, and when she opened her mouth, she felt his teeth against her lower lip.
It was no more than a soft nip, and yet, it was enough to make her realise her earlier words and put them in perspective.
Drawing back, her husband grinned at her, his brows quirking in challenge.
Evelyn stared at him, her mouth falling open when she saw the teasing humour that clung to his face. “That is not what I meant!” she clarified. “All I meant to do was stress the fact that I’m famished.”
“As am I.” Again, his brows wiggled, and his gaze briefly drifted to her lips.
“For food!” Evelyn clarified once more, inwardly delighted with his playfulness. Who was this man? How had he managed to hide this side of himself so completely?
Richard laughed, his face relaxing and losing that somewhat annoying twinkle that had come to his eyes when he had been teasing her. “Then get dressed,” he said gently, his hand once more squeezing hers. “And I shall see you downstairs in the breakfast parlour.”
Still stunned, Evelyn watched him as he climbed out of bed and headed toward the door that led to his adjoining bedchamber. Before he managed to open the door, Evelyn rediscovered her wits and said, “You kissed me out of turn.”
Her husband turned to look at her, the corner of his mouth curling up in delight. “I believe you’re right.”
“Now, you’re in my debt,” Evelyn announced, trying to force a stern expression on her face. “The next two kisses will be mine.”
Once again, Richard laughed. Would she ever tire of this sound? “I cannot say that I mind,” he replied. “But you should wipe that look off your face before you get a headache.” Then he turned and vanished through the door, the mild echo of his laughter tickling her ears.
Sinking back into the covers, Evelyn stared at the ceiling, wondering about the man she had thought him to be and the man she had discovered him to be within the last few short hours.
“I was wrong,” she whispered into the empty room. “So very wrong.”
A delightful smile spread across her face as she scrambled out of bed and hastened to meet her husband downstairs for breakfast.
***
Richard barely noticed his valet’s presence as the man assisted him into more appropriate attire for the day. His thoughts remained with his wife and the night they had shared. Never had Richard felt so connected to another person. Never had he felt so at ease. He barely recognised the man he had become in her presence.
And yet, it had felt natural…as though he had always been meant to be that man.
The hint of a smile tugge
d on the corners of his mouth when he remembered her widened eyes. She, too, had been surprised by the change in him. And yet, he liked to believe that it had been a positive surprise. She had been pleased, had she not?
Although Richard had worried that their wedding night would receive a similarly arranged quality as had their wedding, he had hoped that Evelyn would not solely consider her new role a duty. That she might actually come to care for him. At least a little.
However, what she had revealed to him the previous night had surpassed all his hopes and dreams. How had he not noticed her partiality toward him all those months ago? But then again, neither had she.
Richard’s heart felt a thousand times lighter when he recalled their conversation, and realised that despite his lifelong belief to the contrary, he was not the only one who failed to interpret other people’s emotions correctly. Although others might be more adept, they, too, could be wrong.
It was a comforting thought.
No longer did Richard feel as isolated as before. No longer did he feel as flawed. Certainly, the urge to hide his shortcoming was still there–had been all his life–but now for the first time, Richard had hope that he might be able to overcome it.
Now, that Evelyn was by his side.
As he strode downstairs toward the breakfast parlour, Richard felt his hands clench into fists in an effort to contain the energy that burnt in his limbs, urging him onward and back to his wife’s side.
Cheerful chatter reached his ears, reminding Richard that they had indeed risen late. The rest of his family as well as their guests were already seated, enjoying a warm, hearty breakfast, safely tucked inside, away from the crisp winter’s air.
As he stepped forward and the footmen opened the doors for him, Richard held his breath, wondering if his wife was already there or if she was still upstairs, taking her time to ensure that her appearance was flawless. Was that not a common concern among ladies?
Stepping over the threshold, Richard felt a jolt go through him when his gaze fell on his wife, seated not across the table from his place at the head but rather next to it. Had she done so purposefully? Or had it been an accident? But then again, the far side of the table was unoccupied. She could have chosen her rightful place if she had wanted to. Had she instead chosen to sit by his side?