by Bree Wolf
Richard’s jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists. Never had Evelyn seen him like this, lose control like this. And yet, it only spoke to the depth of his feelings for her.
Pulling on his arm, she made him turn back to her, her eyes seeking his, holding him in place. “I’m yours,” she whispered, aware that her father and Mr. Bragg were fast approaching. “I’m yours. Now and forever. He never had any claim on me, and I did not choose you because you were the lesser of two evils, but because I’ve always been yours. Can’t you see that?”
The muscles she felt under her hands relaxed, and yet, her husband’s face remained rigid. Only his eyes seemed to deepen with a new emotion. Something she had never seen in him before. And in the next moment, the man who had never broken a rule in his life kissed her right then and there in front of her father and Mr. Bragg.
Despite her words, he was staking his claim, and yet, Evelyn knew that it was much more than that. By acting against decorum and following his heart’s desire, he had taken an important step toward balancing both. Toward having a choice and claiming it for himself. Although others might not approve, the choice was still his if only he dared to claim it.
And now, he had.
Evelyn felt her chest swell with pride.
“Good evening,” came her father’s cheerful voice from behind her husband’s back, “and Merry Christmas.”
Stepping back as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Richard greeted his father-in-law. “I’m glad you are well enough to spend this evening with us.”
Kissing her father on the cheek, Evelyn smiled. “Yes, Father, I’m so happy to see you here.”
“And I’m delighted to be here,” her father beamed before gesturing to Mr. Bragg, who unlike her husband still bore the same angry scowl on his face as before. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited Mr. Bragg. As he has no family of his own, he already spent Christmas with us last year. Do you remember, my dear?”
“I do,” Evelyn confirmed rather reluctant, slightly concerned by the momentary tension that seemed to grip her husband’s jaw. Did it bother him that there had been a time–as innocent as it had been–that she had known Mr. Bragg better than him?
“That is quite all right,” Richard replied, once more drawing her arm through his as he turned to look at Mr. Bragg, a polite mask on his face. “Welcome to our home. I hope you are well.”
After a few more strained words were exchanged, the rest of their guests finally made their appearance, which in turn led to new introductions and well wishes. By the time they were finally all seated around the table to share a festive Christmas dinner, Evelyn began to feel dizzy with hunger.
The day had been quite extraordinary in so many ways, that she had all but forgotten to eat more than a few morsels here and there. After all, there were so many more important things in life than food. Especially today, when she had finally found her way to her husband’s heart.
A perfect day if ever there had been one.
Although Richard seemed more and more at ease in the company of the people he had known all his life, Evelyn could tell that Mr. Bragg’s presence made him feel uneasy on a deeper level than the simple notion of jealousy. Lord Weston, too, seemed to be aware of his friend’s discomfort as his gaze lingered for a moment before he rose to his feet and said, “I know that this honour is due the master of the house,” he declared with a smile on his face as he raised his glass in Richard’s direction, “but I’m hoping as your old friend, I will get away with being so bold as to offer a toast for this wonderful Christmas celebration.”
Chuckles echoed around the table as friends and family nodded to each other. Only Mr. Bragg continued to look greatly displeased. Evelyn wondered why he had even accepted her father’s invitation.
“Please, champagne for everyone,” Lord Weston said, gesturing for the footmen to come forward and fill their glasses.
Evelyn caught Mr. Adams’ eye and quickly returned his warm smile before he hastened to fill her husband’s glass and then proceeded further down the table.
“More than anything,” Lord Weston began, “this year has proved that there is nothing more important than family.” Smiling, he looked down at his wife and gently squeezed her hand before lifting his eyes to the assembled guests once more. “Family old and new is our strength and happiness, and I consider myself a lucky man to be part of such loving people. May we never lose sight of this.”
Raising his glass, Lord Weston looked around the table. “To all of us.”
“To all of us,” echoed the rest of their family as they all wholeheartedly embraced his toast with smiling faces.
However, before they could take a sip, Lord Weston cleared his throat. “There is one more reason for joy tonight,” he said, once more looking down at his wife tenderly.
Evelyn drew in a careful breath as she understood the meaning of his words, and her gaze travelled across the table where Claudia was seated next to Lady Northfield.
“In less than a year from now,” Lord Weston said with the beaming pride of a father-to-be, “a new life will be joining our family.”
Cheers and well wishes erupted around the table as everyone offered their congratulations to the happy couple, the future parents, whose faces shone with a happiness that seemed all the brighter when compared to the misery that overtook Claudia’s face.
Evelyn tensed, wishing she could pull her new sister into her arms and offer what little comfort she might give her. However, that would only draw attention to the tears that stood in Claudia’s eyes as well as the iron will that prevented them from falling. And yet, her face was still, almost ashen, as the corners of her mouth drew up in a grotesque imitation of a happy smile and she joined in the congratulations offered so cheerfully.
“I never knew how strong she was,” Richard whispered next to her, and Evelyn turned to meet his eyes, his own filled with sadness as he looked across the table at his sister. “She always seemed so carefree, so unwilling to see anything but her own enjoyment. She never seemed to worry about anything, no matter the trouble she often got herself in. Not as a child and not as a grown woman.”
Placing her hand on his, Evelyn smiled at him. “You envy her.”
“I did,” Richard confirmed. “The way she saw life, the way she approached it seemed so…uncomplicated, so easy.” Swallowing, he shook his head. “But I was wrong to think that nothing affects her. No, she merely has the strength to bear it. Although for the life of me, I cannot fathom where she found it.”
Evelyn nodded. “We all have parts of ourselves we hide away and do not show to those around us. As they say, there’s always more than meets the eye.”
Richard nodded solemnly before he inhaled a slow breath, squeezed her hand for comfort and then turned back to his friend’s beaming face.
“To our son!” Lord Weston exclaimed, grinning at his wife. “Or daughter! We cannot wait to meet you!”
Everyone raised their glasses and as they drank to a new life cherished and welcomed into the family. Evelyn could not stop herself from thinking of the unfairness of the world. Why was Claudia’s child any less precious? Why could it not be a part of their family? Because it did not have a father? Because its parents were not married?
More than anything, it seemed foolish to restrict happiness in such a way. It made no sense, was not reasonable in any way. Why should not everyone treasure happiness no matter where it was found? Or in what way it came to be?
Pushing these gloomy thoughts aside, Evelyn tried her best to join in the celebration; however, her heart was not in it. Turning to her husband, she found him frowning at the drink in his hand. He pinched his nose as though he disapproved of the smell. “Is everything all right? Is it not to your liking?”
Richard shrugged, clearing his throat. “No, I simply…” He swallowed, then cleared his throat once more.
In that moment–the moment before her world would come crashing down around her–Evelyn knew that something wa
s wrong.
Very wrong.
There was something in his eyes. In the way he tried to swallow. In the way his hand reached to loosen his necktie.
Evelyn saw all this unfold slowly as though time had slowed down. A part of her knew what to make of these subtle signs, and yet, her heart refused to see the truth, for it would shatter her new-found happiness and leave her a mere shell of herself.
It could not be true!
It simply could not!
And then Richard’s eyes were on hers, wide and full of panic as he clawed at his necktie, trying his best to draw breath.
Awakened from her stupor by the terror in his eyes and the soft wheezing of his laboured breaths, Evelyn swallowed, grasping his arms. “You can’t breathe?” she exclaimed, needing confirmation despite everything she knew to be true.
Shaking his head, her husband pushed to his feet, knocking over the chair as he threw away the necktie. And yet, it did no good. He continued to gasp for air as before.
“Is something wrong?”
“What’s the matter?”
Her family’s voices echoed around her, their tone merely curious at first and then full of panic, as they slowly came to realise what was happening.
Noise erupted around Evelyn as chairs scraped over the floor, their former occupants rushing to Richard’s side, crowding helplessly around him. Lord Weston spoke to him, his face pale as he tried to make sense of the situation. Then, he drew back his arm and struck Richard between the shoulder blades.
Unfortunately, that only brought her husband to his knees but failed to facilitate his breathing.
“Wait!” Amidst the sea of faces, Evelyn met her father’s eyes, a presence of calm on a stormy day. “Wait!” he ordered toward the assembled group once more before striding toward Evelyn. “Did he swallow anything?”
Evelyn shook her head, her eyes focused on her husband as he sank to the floor, his skin turning a pale blue.
“Evelyn!” her father called, gripping her by her upper arms. “Look at me!”
Evelyn blinked as her father’s voice pierced the daze that had befallen her. Pain gripped her heart, and the only – admittedly absurd! – thought that entered her mind was that the day had come. This was her chance to prove herself!
Not that she wanted it.
Not like this.
Not where his life was concerned.
And yet, the choice was not hers.
Here she was, holding her husband’s life in her hands…and she could not move. What if she failed him? What if he…?
“Evelyn!” her father called again. “Do I have to slap you? Focus! Your husband needs you right now!”
“From what I can tell,” Mr. Bragg said, from where he knelt beside Richard, “he didn’t swallow anything. For some reason, his throat is closing up. It won’t be long before he won’t be able to draw breath.”
It was the finality of Mr. Bragg’s words that finally brought Evelyn back to the here and now. Her mind began to focus, overruling her heart, her emotions, allowing her to think clearly. If she tried to help her husband, she might fail him. That was true. She might make a mistake. That was always possible. Or she might lose him because there was simply nothing anyone could do. All that was true, and yet, it was also true that if she only stood here and did nothing, he would die for certain.
Then there would be no if.
Merely a when.
Chapter Thirty-Two – A Silent Goodbye
Feeling his throat close up, Richard could not think straight.
Panic and terror claimed him whole, dulling his senses as he lay on the hard ground. Voices drifted to his ears, but they seemed distant and shrill. His vision blurred, became brighter, then darker as though day and night could not decide whose turn it was.
Deep down, Richard knew that this was the end. With devastating certainty, he knew he would die, and it broke his heart.
Everything in his being cried out against the cruelty of fate’s timing. Not now, when he had only just found the woman he loved. Not now, when they were about to start a life together. Not now, when they had only had days with each other. This was not fair. This could not be the end!
It simply could not!
And yet, it was.
Blinking, Richard strained his eyes until he spotted his wife standing off to the side with her father. The doctor’s hands were wrapped around her arms as he spoke to her, Mr. Bragg by his side.
Her face was pale and her eyes dull as she stared at her father. Always had she seemed so confident, but now in this moment, Richard could read the same fear in her eyes that he felt in his own heart.
She loved him, didn’t she? She truly did.
Despite their confession of love the day before–had that only been a day ago? – the realisation of how deeply they cared for one another gripped him with a force so powerful, Richard felt certain it would crush his chest.
If only he did not have to die.
If only he could tell her once more how much she meant to him. How much she had changed his life. How much he had felt since she had become his wife.
As though his thoughts had conjured her, Evelyn suddenly appeared by his side. Her hands reached for his throat, and he could feel the touch of her fingers as they slid over his skin.
Her face was tense, her eyes focused as they travelled over his face without seeing him.
As much as Richard wished she would look at him with love in her eyes, he knew that the woman tending to him in that moment was not his wife. No, in that moment, she was Evelyn, a
Doctor focused on her patient.
If only she could save him, Richard thought as his body fought to draw air into its lungs…and failed to do so. His muscles convulsed and jerked uncontrollably. Panic claimed him once more, and he tried to stand, a survival instinct kicking in and urging him to try and run from this threat.
Although his distant mind knew it would do him no good, Richard could not help himself.
“Hold him down!” Evelyn ordered, and then hands seized him, pushing him to the ground as his lungs closed off completely.
There was no more air.
It was over.
Closing his eyes, Richard whispered a silent goodbye.
Chapter Thirty-Three – A Daring Woman
As her husband’s eyes began to flutter closed, Evelyn had to will her emotions back down as they threatened to overwhelm her. If she lost control now, she would lose him for good.
Gritting her teeth, she looked up and found Mr. Adams standing by the side wall with the other footmen. “Mr. Adams, run and fetch me a sharp knife as well as a fresh quill,” she called. “And hurry!”
Instantly, the man darted away.
“What will you do?” her father asked from behind her, and Evelyn lifted her head to look at him. For a moment, her eyes held his and then his widened as realisation dawned.
Evelyn swallowed. “I don’t have a choice,” she explained, her hands still on her husband’s throat feeling his pulse growing fainter. “His airway is closed. I don’t know why, but…he needs another way to breathe.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, Evelyn realised that she was prattling, and yet, she could not stop. “I once heard of something that can be done in such a case.” Again, she lifted her gaze to meet her father’s. “I’ve never done it myself, but…” She inhaled a deep breath. “It’s his only chance.”
Her father nodded.
“Do you have another idea, Father?” Evelyn pleaded. “Please, anything you know. Anything at all. Is there anything that can be done? Anything but…this?”
Slowly, her father shook his head. “Your idea is his best chance.” He knelt down beside her. “Trust your instincts. They’ve never led you astray.”
Glancing around, Evelyn searched for Mr. Adams but only looked into one terrified face after another as their family stood around them, staring down at her husband’s still body. “Where is Mr. Adams?” Evelyn demanded, then cursed under her breath. “Camilla,” she cal
led, and the woman fairly jumped forward, her face pale and tear-streaked. “Go to your son’s study and fetch a fresh quill. Hurry!”
Before Evelyn had finished talking, Richard’s mother was already out the door.
Then Evelyn rose to her feet, her eyes gliding over the Christmas feast they had all sat down to enjoy not too long ago. Next to the roasted pheasant, she found what she was looking for: a carving knife.
“Lord Weston, the bottle of brandy,” Evelyn said, gesturing behind the man.
Grabbing the bottle, he rushed toward her. “What will you do?” he asked, glancing at his friend. “What do you need that knife for?”
Evelyn swallowed. “To save him.”
“How?” Mr. Bragg demanded, walking up to them. “There is nothing you can do.”
Sobs echoed over, but Evelyn ignored them. “Don’t you dare say that!” she snarled, then pushed him out of the way and knelt down beside her husband once more.
“You’ll kill him!” Mr. Bragg continued to object. Hands stemmed at his sides, he glared down at her. “You have no idea what you’re doing. If you cut his jugular, he’ll bleed out in a matter of–”
“I won’t!” Evelyn snapped, returning the man’s disdainful glare with a fiery one of her own. “I know what I’m doing.” Oh, how she wished this were true! “Besides, if I do nothing, he’ll be lost for good.”
Pouring the brandy over the tip of the carving knife as well as her hands, Evelyn then once more ran her fingers over her husband’s throat, feeling for the small indentation between his Adam’s apple and the cricoid cartilage roughly an inch below.
“You can’t be serious!” Mr. Bragg snarled, starting toward her. “You–!”
“Keep him away from me!” Evelyn ordered, relieved to see that Lord Weston complied without hesitation and grabbed a hold of Mr. Bragg. Although her father’s apprentice squirmed like a fish on a hook, he was no match for her husband’s childhood friend.
Praying that Camilla would return within moments, Evelyn placed the knife in the small indentation. Her teeth gritted together, and she thanked the heavens that he had already lost consciousness. Then she closed her eyes for a brief moment and inhaled a deep, steadying breath.