Lady Ashworth stepped closer to Eliza and smiled, her eyes darting between the painting and her beloved. “I agree,” she said, winking at her husband.
Clara squeezed her arm. Eliza turned to meet her gaze. Then her eyes dipped downward. Having an instinctive reaction at seeing the way Clara’s other hand was resting gently upon her abdomen, she froze, unsure, staring at her sister-in-law.
“I thought it especially important to mark William’s place in history now,” admitted the countess, “as it turns out the earl will soon be a father.”
Eliza shouted with joy and threw herself into Clara’s arms for a tight embrace, who laughed and returned the hug. She dashed her happy tears away with impatient swipes of her hand. “What happy news for us all.”
Rosa stopped playing in the corner and glanced up excitedly. “Auntie Clara is having a baby?”
Before Eliza could reply, Thomas strode past her into the middle of the room to approach William. The portrait artist rose testily from his seat to peer over the easel in irritation.
“Pardon me, my lord, but it is quite difficult to—”
In true Evanston fashion, he raised his hand to silence the man, intent on addressing his friend. Eliza could discern William’s posture tighten slightly in apprehension, then he stepped down from his perch and reached out to strongly grip the hand Thomas had extended in his direction. The men shook heartily, staring at one another with profound respect.
“Congratulations, friend,” said Thomas sincerely.
Still clenching Evanston’s hand in his own, William pulled him closer.
“Likewise, brother.”
The gallery was silent for a moment as Thomas struggled not to lose his composure. The earl took mercy on him and tugged him once more to pull him close, his other hand clapping him loudly on the back, before retreating again to look at the viscount.
“Although just to be clear, if you make my sister unhappy, I will kill you,” he added with a lopsided smirk.
“William!” exclaimed both women in unison.
Thomas laughed good-naturedly and raised his hands. “Fair enough.” He gazed tenderly at Eliza. “But there will never be a need.”
Rosa was now standing in the middle of the adults, clinging to her dolls, eyes bulging in her search for answers.
“Auntie Clara is having a baby?” she asked again.
Eliza lowered to a knee and kissed her little girl on the cheek. “Yes, sweetheart. Auntie Clara and Uncle William will be having a baby.”
Rosa’s face transformed, much as it had upon the news of her mother’s impending wedding. She ran across the drop cloth, tripping over the gathered material, to land in Clara’s arms. William crossed over to join the embrace.
“Will the baby want to play with me right away?” she asked, concerned. “I can help Mrs. Humboldt bake the tastiest things, and we can have tea, and—”
“Easy, my darling,” replied William with a smile. “Babies simply like to drink milk and sleep for a while before they are strong enough to play. Although surely once the baby is able to crawl, you two will have all sorts of fun together.”
Rosa grinned, then directed her gaze towards Eliza and Thomas. “Will you have another baby, Mama?”
Far from being a jealous question, she was quite obviously thrilled at the prospect of being surrounded by a plethora of tiny playmates. Eliza felt her face turn red and she awkwardly looked up at Evanston, who grinned like a reprobate.
“I, well, um—” she stammered.
William leaned over to Clara with a roll of his eyes, almost certainly to deliver a sarcastic remark on how Thomas would waste no time in the endeavor. The earl was stopped in his tracks by a narrowed glance from his wife, tempered by a mischievous quirk of her lips.
“Don’t say it,” she warned, catching sight of the ring on Eliza’s finger and gasping aloud. “Oh, that is lovely, Thomas. I wouldn’t have thought you’d have time for formalizing the arrangement with jewelry, given your lengthy recovery.”
A faint smile played about his mouth. “Actually, my mother took the task upon herself.” He raised Eliza’s hand so all could see the twinkling emerald in its bed of diamonds, and Rosa’s greatly exaggerated ooh of appreciation caused Clara to chuckle. Lord Evanston’s deep voice softly rang among the group.
“This belonged to my grandmother, and now it belongs to Eliza.” He lifted her hand to his lips, holding her eyes with his own as he did so.
The rest of the room dissolved away for a moment, and it was only her brother’s abrupt clearing of his throat that brought the pair back into the present. Blushing deeply, Eliza realized they would need to work on concealing their outward affection for one another a little better when out in public.
“Now, dear sister, I have a question for you,” William said, stifling a laugh. “How soon will it be before we can get you out of the Dower House?”
Epilogue
The Dower House, Lawton Park
Kent, England
January 1847
Eliza pressed her back against the coolness of the stone wall, hiding behind it to catch her breath. Her exhalations puffed white in the frozen air, and a giggle escaped her lips at the sounds of Rosa’s happy shrieks bouncing through the courtyard. Most certainly, her daughter had hit her target, and that target was most definitely Lord Evanston. Eliza craned her neck upward to hear the ensuing good-natured growl of her husband, followed by more of Rosa’s exclamations as she scampered away from him once again.
Despite the chill of the weather, she was sweating beneath the heavy layers of her dress and cloak. She had not planned on participating in the snowball fight this afternoon, but the fun had been too much to resist once William, Clara and Caroline had joined in as well. Her brother was protective of his wife, observing that she took care not to overexert herself given her increasing condition. No one present was truly comfortable firing snowballs at the countess, who was seated safely upon a stone bench. But in a bold show of Machiavellian ruthlessness, this did not prevent Lady Ashworth from launching an excess of her own projectiles. William had viewed her behavior in pretend shock while Thomas’s rich laugh of hilarity showed his appreciation of her strategy.
Eliza took a moment to peer over the wall at her viscount. Currently, he was giving Rosa a ride upon his back, racing a circuit along the frozen flagstones while she pelted the others with snowy missiles. Caroline and William cried gamely in dismay upon being struck, then elected to flee when Thomas circled back for another round. Rosa cackled in triumph from beneath her thick felt bonnet, while Clara continued her own assault on the viscount from her seat upon the bench.
Eliza grew warmer at the sight of her husband’s powerful frame. He was every last bit the mischievous rake he’d always been, but now his exploits were strictly limited to her, every longing glance intended only for his wife. Eliza knew better than to be surprised by his enthusiasm in bed, but the extent of his happiness, both in the bedchamber and throughout the course of their daily life, was still something she marveled at.
His eyes flicked over and found her, never failing to send that familiar jolt of electricity through her core. She ducked down immediately, eyeing the wall that concealed her before choosing to slide down a bit further. The protection it offered was limited at best, and she wondered if he would rally the group together before advancing, or if he would stalk her by himself.
She hoped it was the latter.
The gritty crunch of snow signified an approach on her position. She froze in place and listened. The footfall was too heavy to be Caroline’s, and she could discern her brother’s voice in the distance. It would seem that Lord Evanston was making a move.
Crouching down, she sank her gloved fingers into the downy white snow, working to prepare her arsenal in the short time she had before being discovered. Eliza quickly fashioned three respectable snowballs, then jumped upward and fired them over the top of the wall. The only thing more satisfying than hitting Thomas squarely in the ches
t was his incredulous expression of surprise.
“Ha!” she cried out. “I got you!”
Eliza should have known she was in trouble by the wolfish grin that spread across his face. Before she could turn and run, Thomas had hurtled forwards around the wall in a show of agile grace that stole her breath. He seized her wrist to jerk her up against him.
“Why no, Lady Evanston,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
She opened her mouth to make a reply worthy of such a comment, but her husband swooped down to take her lips with his own. Even though they were in full view of the courtyard, she found herself acquiescing in his arms, with the liquid heat of his mouth causing her to forget any objections she might have had. When the kiss ended at last, she was gratified to see he appeared similarly affected, his gaze softened by a thick haze of arousal.
“You looked lonely over here, watching me from behind the wall,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice.
Eliza shot him an innocent glance, enjoying the feel of him against her. “What makes you think I was watching you, my lord?” she teased.
Evanston swiftly pulled her aside, shifting them both behind a nearby tree so they could not be seen by their companions in the courtyard. His hands curled around her hips and he pressed closer, his mouth finding her neck.
“Hmm.” The vibration of his response against her skin caused her to tense in anticipation. “If you were not, then perhaps I should work harder to get your attention.”
Eliza’s lips curved with a satisfied sigh. He did so enjoy getting her attention . . .
Thomas nipped at her earlobe, then stroked the tender place with his tongue. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“The rumors were right. You are a troublemaker.”
He laughed darkly. “The rumors weren’t even close, as you well know.” He leaned close to brush his lips against her ear. “Or have you forgotten our wedding night?”
Indeed, Lord Evanston had proven his prowess to be far beyond the scope of the ton’s rumormongering. But he had also shown himself to be vastly generous, both in the bedchamber and out of it. At this moment, his hands were of a singular purpose, roaming over her velvet bodice in an effort to remind her. He must have been joking, for there was no earthly way she could forget their wedding night . . . and every night since . . . and most days, for that matter.
The wedding itself had been a glorious and family-filled affair at Lawton Park, small and private and perfect. Her dress too had been lovely—champagne-colored satin with ivory lace accents and modest layers of petticoats and skirts. Thomas said that the simplicity of its design was what he liked about it most—the way it complemented her natural beauty rather than concealing it beneath mounds of ruffles and fripperies. Eliza’s mother’s beloved pearl necklace had gleamed around her throat, while the Evanston family ring had likewise sparkled from its place upon her finger.
Rosa’s tea length dress had been a soft shade of rose-pink satin, edged in lace, and a perfect match to her dollies, clutched tightly in her fists in their own pink finery throughout the duration of the ceremony.
But Lord Evanston, in his dove-gray coat, ivory waistcoat, breeches, and cravat . . .
The sight of him awaiting her approach had caused heart palpitations not unlike the ones she’d felt as a young woman, newly discovering the awe of his potent masculinity. But the look in his eyes had caused her heart to flutter the most, knowing the sultry intent behind his stare. Knowing they would be alone in a few short hours.
Eliza thought back to that night, remembering the secure feeling of his limbs wrapped around her own. The sounds of their breathing as they lay on the bed, energy utterly spent, until their arousal rose yet again. How the sheets had been wrapped haphazardly around their bodies after their lovemaking. Most of all, she remembered his words to her then:
No other woman had been worth waiting for. Worth pursuing.
Worth loving for the rest of his life.
Her eyes dropped closed and she slid her hands beneath the heavy layers of his cloak, unwilling to stand idly by while he touched her.
“Eliza,” he whispered, breaking away just long enough to speak before diving down to take her lips again. “My love—”
Dimly, she heard voices approaching from beyond the wall. Thomas pulled back. She could see him working to quickly dispel his desire, his eyes becoming sharp and focused once again.
“It would not do, to be discovered like this,” he stated with regret, stealing a final kiss.
She laughed. “No. It would not.”
As if proving the verity of her statement, Rosa rounded the tree, immediately followed by William, Clara and Caroline. Her brother’s eyebrow arched comically at seeing them standing so closely together.
“Did we interrupt something, Evanston?”
Thomas glowered at his prodding, then smiled grudgingly. “I wouldn’t tell you if you did, Ashworth.”
Caroline demurely covered her laugh with gloved fingertips, and Eliza kneeled down to regard Rosa and change the subject.
“Tell me, who won the fierce snowball battle?”
“I did!” she exclaimed, before suddenly dashing off to follow the tinkling call of a goldfinch, flitting hurriedly through the stark landscape of leafless trees. Thomas uttered a dramatic sigh.
“If only the rest of us could be as fascinating as a bird or a squirrel.”
Evanston and Rosa had become fast friends, dreaming up new and mischievous ways to have fun. He had assured her that, although the squirrels were scarcely about this time of year at Hawthorne Manor, they would be out in numbers come the warm breath of springtime. Rosa had also sampled the skilled offerings of his cook, finding them to be both delicious and worthy of her discriminating forest companions. This was her very highest form of culinary praise, and the viscount advised the mortified cook to receive the compliment with gratitude, lest he attempt to poach the affable Mrs. Humboldt from Lord Ashworth’s estate.
Eliza gazed wistfully at the Dower House that had served her and Rosa well this past year. “The removers have been finished for a while, Thomas. We should be leaving, especially because you know Burton will be waiting for us with a blazing hearth.” She was teasing, but the comment was likely true. No butler in history could possibly be as excited as the one expecting their arrival at Hawthorne Manor.
Evanston chuckled. “Yes, dear Lord, I don’t want to keep Burton waiting. The man has been beside himself making preparations for you and Rosa. I suppose his preference for you will be something I’ll get used to in time.”
“Ah yes, that reminds me . . . you won’t be needing Roberts any longer, will you?” asked William.
Clara cried out in delight beside him. “Oh, please tell me you’ll bring him to Lawton Park! Poor Mrs. Malone has been so overworked as of late—”
“You should take him with you,” enthused Eliza. “He is a wonderful butler.”
“Fine, yes,” William assented. “It seems like the right thing to do.” Ashworth slid an arm affectionately around his wife’s waist and pulled her close. “I must let Clara have her way on occasion.”
Obviously, that was a joke, as Eliza knew her brother did everything possible to please his wife. Clara smiled in knowing satisfaction, and stifling a giggle, Eliza turned to eye Caroline good-naturedly.
“And what awaits you back in Hampshire? Have you heard from the new master of Greystone Hall?”
Her auburn-haired friend wrinkled her petite nose in disdain. “Not yet, but I have certainly heard from the man’s land steward. Apparently, the border fence along the northwest edge of my property is placed significantly over his property line.”
“Ah, yes. That was a known discrepancy,” Eliza sighed. “But let me guess . . . he would like you to adjust the boundaries?”
“I believe he would,” Caroline replied, shrugging noncommittally with a small smile.
Eliza’s brows raised. “I can’t imagine you submitting peacefully to such a request.”
“I can’t imagine that either,” her friend agreed grumpily.
With a shake of her head, Eliza kissed Caroline on the cheek before pulling away to gaze fondly at her. “Take care.”
Thomas leaned forwards to kiss Caroline on the cheek as well. “Never change.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said with a laugh. “And thank you for your assistance during the season.”
“We are but a letter away,” he said seriously. “Send word if you need us.”
The conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Rosa, her tiny body jittering with excitement against her mother’s heavy cobalt skirts. Eliza glanced down at her.
“Are you quite alright?”
“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing skyward. “It’s snowing!”
The descent of glittering, crystalline flakes could barely be seen, they were so tiny. Yet, there they were. She turned to look up at Evanston.
“It will be snowing for our journey today,” she said anxiously.
Thomas encircled her in his arms. “You’ve nothing to fear. I’ve instructed the driver to proceed cautiously, given the cold weather, and it is not such a long trip.” He looked towards Caroline. “If there is any doubt about the roads to Hampshire, you come stay with us instead.”
Her friend shook her head and tightly laced her thick scarlet cloak around her neck. “Thank you, but I’m sure it will be fine. The way is well-traveled.”
After one last round of farewells and a promise to visit soon, the Earl and Countess of Ashworth boarded their vehicle and departed for home. Lady Caroline, likewise, took her leave, and Eliza soon found herself nestled within the cozy interior of Lord Evanston’s carriage, her husband’s strong form on her right and her daughter’s diminutive one to her left.
Normally, the fit might have been too tight for her liking. But on this day, she found herself reveling in the way their warmth surrounded her. She snuggled more closely between them, although Rosa couldn’t help but strain towards the window to watch the whitening hedgerows beyond. Eliza sighed serenely.
Viscount Can Wait, The EPB Page 30