Oppressed & Empowered: The Viscount's Capable Wife (Love's Second Chance Book 11)

by Bree Wolf

  The moment Evelyn lifted her head and her dark brown eyes met his, a dazzling smile drew up the corners of her mouth, and Richard felt as though she beckoned him forward. As though in a daze, eyes locked onto hers, he moved forward, almost mechanically greeting his family and friends before he sank into the seat beside his wife.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she whispered, leaning closer, her eyes sparkling as they looked into his, “but I’d rather not sit too far away from you.”

  Richard smiled, gently placing his hand on hers. “I do not mind at all.”

  Evelyn drew in a shuddering breath, and he could feel a slight tremble in her hand beneath his. Did she feel as unhinged as he did himself?

  “I must say married life becomes you, old friend.”

  At the sound of Sebastian’s voice, Richard’s head all but snapped up.

  Turning down the table, he found his childhood friend grinning at him, a smirk on his face that spoke louder than a thousand words. As Richard’s gaze swept those seated along the breakfast table, he noticed that not only Sebastian had a rather pleased and somewhat teasing expression on his face. His mother, too, looked beyond herself with joy, and even Claudia looked at him with tenderness in her eyes. They were happy for him, were they not? Could they see that he had changed since the day before? That his wife had made him a different man? Was he so transparent?

  Momentarily, Richard felt terrified by the thought that others could read him so easily. In answer, his features hardened as he met his friend’s gaze. “I take that as a compliment.”

  Sebastian laughed, apparently not in the least put off by Richard’s cold reply. “It is indeed. More so to the lady than to you.” His brows rose in a brief challenge before his gaze drifted to Evelyn. “My lady, may I offer you my sincerest gratitude for giving my friend a reason to smile. I had almost feared he’d forgotten how to accomplish it.”

  Everyone laughed, their eyes bright and their faces smiling.

  Still, Richard tensed.

  Only when he felt his wife’s hand gently squeezing his did he remember to breathe. His eyes found hers, and there in the warmth and peacefulness of her gaze, he found the reassurance he needed.

  Inhaling a deep breath, Richard smiled at her before he turned his attention back to his family and friends. Indeed, they were not laughing about him. They were laughing and teasing because they were happy to see him happy, were they not? And why would they be happy to see him happy if not for the simple reason that they cared for him? Was it possible? Did they care so much for him despite his cold and detached demeanour?

  Feeling his wife’s warm hand beneath his, relaxed and without tension, Richard knew it to be true. As unlikely as it appeared to him to be so, it was nonetheless.

  How had this happened? How had he not noticed? Would the world never cease to surprise him?

  But then again, as he had only recently learnt, not all surprises were bad.

  Chapter Twenty-Four – To be Deemed Worthy

  The eagerness with which her husband reacted to her suggestion to take a stroll through the gardens delighted Evelyn. Bundled up against the cold, they walked through the snow-covered grounds, the fresh smell of fir and pine trees in the air as more flakes here and there drifted down to the earth.

  At first, they walked side by side, their elbows brushing when the path got narrower. Occasionally, he would glance down at her as she would glance up at him. They would smile at each other, but quickly return their gaze to the path ahead.

  It was a strange atmosphere that lingered around them. The past night they had shared so much, and yet, in the light of day, there were still things left unsaid.

  When Evelyn was about to step on a patch of ice that reached farther onto the path, Richard grasped her arm and pulled her closer to his side…and to him. “Perhaps a stroll was not the best idea after all,” he commented as they walked around the treacherous spot.

  Feeling his arms holding her tightly to him, not releasing her even once they had passed the slippery corner, Evelyn smiled, enjoying the warmth of him wrapped around her. “Are you criticising my idea?” she teased, remembering how these easy words never failed to bring them closer. “Or me?”

  Grinning, he looked down at her. “Is there an answer I can give that will not put me in harm’s way?”

  Evelyn laughed, relieved to feel that ease return. “I’m afraid not,” she replied, stopping in the middle of the path. “I’m afraid you must suffer the consequences.”

  “Is that so?” he asked, his gaze expectant as it swept her face.

  “Indeed, it is.” Finally pulling her arm from his, Evelyn closed the remaining distance between them. Then she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly.

  When she stepped back, Richard smiled. “If this is a punishment, I shall endeavour to upset you as much as I possibly can.”

  “I never spoke of a punishment,” Evelyn corrected him cheerfully, “merely of consequences.”

  Standing in each other’s embrace, they laughed, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. Still, if they were to become even closer, know the other as they knew themselves, more needed to be said.

  “Is something wrong?” Richard asked, a slight frown drawing down his brows. “You look…thoughtful.”

  Smiling at his efforts to try and decipher her expression, Evelyn nodded. “I am, and you’re right. There is something I wish to speak to you about.” Swallowing, she licked her lips, trying to think of the best way to make him understand.

  Watching her, Richard waited patiently, his gaze intent, observant and perhaps a little tense.

  “May I ask,” Evelyn began, wrapping her gloved hands more tightly around his, “why you invited Lord Weston and his family to our wedding? From what you said earlier, you were and are concerned that your sister’s condition becomes common knowledge. Then why risk inviting anyone?”

  Clearly having expected anything but such a question, her husband remained still for a moment, his gaze moving from hers as he sorted his thoughts. “I understand your concern,” he said as his grey eyes returned to meet hers, “however, with Sebastian, there is no risk. I’ve known him and his family my whole life and I…I trust him. He will guard this secret as much as I do. He would never allow Claudia to come to harm if it is within his power to prevent it.”

  Pleased by his answer, pleased to see that there were people in his life he trusted without restraint, Evelyn nodded, hoping that one day she might be one of them. “I understand,” she said, inhaling a slow breath. “I had hoped you would say so because it will make it easier for you to understand what I need to tell you.”

  The hands wrapped around hers tensed, and she could feel him lean back as though bracing himself for a blow. Despite the tenderness in his heart–or perhaps because of it–he feared nothing more but to be vulnerable. To not see an attack coming. To not be prepared. To open himself to pain.

  “After last night,” Evelyn began, her hands once more tightening on his, unwilling to allow him to withdraw himself, “there is something I believe I need to share with you. Something I hope will allow you to understand me better. Will you listen?”

  Holding her gaze, Richard nodded, his eyes intense as he focused all his attention on her.

  “Thank you.” Lifting her chin, Evelyn held her husband’s gaze with the same honesty she saw in his. “This is not meant as an accusation or criticism, but only a way to deeper understanding.”

  Her husband nodded.

  Evelyn drew in a deep breath. “I wish to tell you how it made me feel when you called on Mr. Bragg to tend to your mother.” Again, her husband’s hands tensed, but he did not make to turn away or object. “I know we’ve spoken of this before, and I told you that I am more qualified than Mr. Bragg and ought to be called on instead of him.”

  Her husband gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. Still, his eyes remained open and focused, and Evelyn hoped he truly wished to hear what she had to say.

  “
However, what I didn’t say last time we spoke of this,” Evelyn continued, “was how much your decision hurt me.”

  His jaw clenched, and a pained look came to his eyes, apologetic in the way he looked down at her. However, instead of fleeing this uncomfortable situation, his hands closed more tightly around hers, and he stood his ground.

  “By calling on Mr. Bragg, you all but told me that you did not trust me to take care of those you love nor that you trust me to speak honestly and ask for help when a situation is beyond my abilities.” Evelyn sighed, praying he would not misunderstand her. “It hurt me deeply, more than I can say, because this is the one thing I’ve always been passionate about. It is something that defines my character, defines who I am, and your doubt felt like…you were rejecting me.” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she drew in a strengthening breath. “As though you deemed me not worthy.” Her eyes began to mist, and Evelyn cursed herself for being so emotional, knowing it would make this all the harder on him. “It was all the more painful because it came from you.”

  Her husband swallowed, but then his eyes softened. He reached out a gentle hand and brushed away the lone tear that stole down her cheek.

  Evelyn sniffled, her view blurred as she looked up at him. “I want you to look at me and see someone you trust. I want to be among those who have gained your respect. I want…” Her heart tightened in her chest, and her words broke off as fear overwhelmed her.

  Fear of rejection.

  What if she asked him to love her and he refused? Would she ever recover from this?

  ***

  The tears that streamed down her cheeks puzzled him. Never had she seemed so vulnerable. Always had she stood tall, unafraid and unyielding. Always had he been impressed by her bravery. Had envied her even. Had wished to know her secret.

  But now, Richard knew that he was not the only one afraid to be rejected. To be thought less of by those he cared for.

  Pulling her into his arms, he lifted her chin, waiting until her eyes met his. “I did not know,” he whispered, willing her to believe him. “I did not know, and I did not intend for you to feel–”

  “I know.” A brave smile curled up the corners of her lips. “I know you didn’t, and I only said what I said to make you understand…who I am.”

  Richard nodded.

  “Will you give me a chance to prove myself?” she asked unexpectedly. “To prove that you can trust me? That I would never allow any harm to befall you or yours?”

  Watching her dark brown eyes look into his, so intent and honest, Richard could not remember what had ever made him doubt her. He certainly had to have been a fool to see her for anything less than the remarkable woman she was. “It is not you who needs to prove herself,” he finally said, realising that he had been the one in the wrong. “It is I who needs to beg for another chance to prove myself. I hope that one day you will come to see that I’m not the unfeeling–”

  “I know you’re not,” she interrupted, her voice once strong and full of conviction as she looked up at him. “I know I misjudged you as well, but I never thought of you as unfeeling.” A smirk came to her lips. “Perhaps in a moment of anger. But even then I never truly believed it.”

  Relief flooded Richard’s being as he found her smiling up at him, her fingers digging into his coat as she pulled herself closer. “I see another consequence approaching,” he whispered against her lips as his arms tightened on her as well.

  A soft giggle escaped her mouth. “Do you object?”

  “Only a fool would,” he whispered as her lips brushed against his, “and whatever other shortcomings I might have, I have never been a fool.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” was the last thing she said before her mouth claimed his. His mind whispered that now it was his turn once more. He smiled inwardly. Would they ever stop counting? Keeping track? Not that he minded. This was a delightful game, and he could not imagine that he would ever wish to stop playing.

  Then a most inconvenient cough from down the path drew them apart.

  Reluctantly, Richard stepped back to find his footman standing only a few steps away, his face rather pale as he looked at his feet before lifting his gaze. “I apologise, my lord,” Maxwell said, his gaze drifting back toward the house. “But Lady Northfield’s son is running a temperature, and the dowager lady bade me to fetch Lady Ashwood.”

  Turning to his wife, Richard wondered if another would note any signs of alarm on her face. He, however, did not. “Can you take care of the boy?” he asked, unable not to, but hoping that she would not see it as a sign of mistrust.

  Her brown eyes found his, and she nodded. “I can.”

  “Good.” A smile came to his face as he took her hand and they started back toward the house, following Maxwell’s hastened footsteps.

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Mother & Child

  Even from a distance away, Evelyn could hear the infant’s agitated cries, and her heart clenched as it always did when she was called to tend to one so small, so young. Still, her senses registered something else - the hint of panic that hung in the air.

  Voices spoke, some louder than others, some barely audible. Footsteps carried across the floor only to return to their former spot. It was an atmosphere of restlessness, of dreadful helplessness when faced with the pain of another.

  “There you are, my dear.” Breathing a sigh of relief, Camilla strode forward and enfolded Evelyn in her arms for a brief moment. Then she stood back, and her eyes looked into Evelyn’s. “Lady Northfield’s son is unwell. Will you see to him?”

  Evelyn nodded, glad to see such unfailing trust in her new mother-in-law’s eyes. If only her husband would look at her thus. One day he might. Was this not the perfect opportunity to show him the extent of her abilities?

  A hint of guilt crept into her heart at such a selfish thought. Certainly, she would never wish harm to come to anyone, merely so she could prove herself. Still, there was no way her thoughts could have brought this about. Never had Evelyn believed in the kind of superstition that often seemed to rule others’ lives.

  Giving Camilla’s hand a gentle squeeze, she stepped past the waiting family and friends as they hovered around the open door to Lady Northfield’s bedchamber, their worried gazes following her across the threshold.

  Inside, she found Lady Northfield holding her crying son as well as the lady’s mother. While the child’s mother could barely keep herself from crying, her eyes red-rimmed and wide with fear, the boy’s grandmother tried her best to calm her daughter…to no avail.

  The moment Lady Northfield’s gaze fell on Evelyn, she shot forward. “Please, help him! I don’t know what to do. He is so feverish. His head is burning. What can I do? Please tell me what I can do.”

  A reassuring smile on her face, Evelyn placed a comforting hand on the young mother’s shoulder before her eyes drifted down to the crying child. Her trained eyes took in his pinkish skin and forceful cries as he lay swaddled in his mother’s arms, a thick blanket wrapped around him. As though to make his anger known, he waved his little fists about.

  Touching a hand to his forehead, Evelyn found it burning hot. Still, the tension in her shoulders dissipated as she felt the strength of this young life under her fingertips.

  Turning to the maid awaiting instructions, Evelyn said, “Please bring me a bowl of lukewarm water, not hot, not cold, lukewarm.” The maid nodded. “As well as a sponge.” The maid nodded again and disappeared out the door.

  Then Evelyn turned back to Lady Northfield. “May I?” she asked, holding out her hands to take the infant.

  Lady Northfield swallowed and for a second clutched her precious son tighter. In answer, the baby seemed to wail louder.

  “I only wish to look at him,” Evelyn reassured the young mother. “I will not take him from you.”

  Gazing down at her child’s face, Lady Northfield nodded, then reluctantly handed over her son. “What is wrong with him?” she asked, brushing her hands over her reddened face. “What cau
sed this?”

  Feeling the child’s soft weight in her arms, Evelyn instinctively began bouncing him up and down. Then her gaze travelled to the still open door, filled with concerned relatives peeking inside. Turning to the child’s grandmother, Evelyn said, “Mother and child need a little time alone right now. Could you assure them that the boy is not gravely ill?”

  The dowager Lady Weston held Evelyn’s gaze for a moment as though trying to determine if the young woman spoke the truth. Then, however, she nodded resolutely and stepping around Evelyn headed toward the door. “Let us give them a little peace and quiet and wait downstairs in the drawing room. Lady Ashwood assures me the boy will be well.”

  As the door began to close behind the throng of people, Evelyn caught her husband’s gaze, relieved to see a trusting smile touch his lips. She could not have hoped for more.

  “Now,” Evelyn said, turning back to the worried mother. “Let’s see what ails him.” Gently, she placed the screaming child on the bed and removed the blanket as well as most of his clothing. Although his skin felt feverish, Evelyn was encouraged by the strength of his movements as well as his cries.

  “What is wrong?” Lady Northfield asked. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” Evelyn assured her, then once more picked up the child. Holding him tightly, she rocked him in her arms as she spoke to his mother. “Has anything changed recently? Has there been any difference in feeding or sleeping?”

  Lady Northfield’s brows drew together as she tried to focus despite her child’s wails. “Everything was fine before our departure,” she said, her gaze distant as she tried to recall everything that might be important. “But since we’ve arrived here, he refuses to sleep in his crib. He’s always been a good sleeper, but now he only cries.”