by Regina Scott
“Now,” James said as he smiled his thanks all around, “we brazen it out. We wanted our freedom. It seems we’ll have to fight for it a while longer.”
~~~
A Roman general returning from conquest had never looked more sure of himself, Eva thought. James smiled and nodded to his friends and acquaintances, all of whom were beaming. People she’d never met threw flowers, called best wishes for her health and happiness. Of course, they hadn’t been privy to the scene inside the church. Eva had thought her heart would stop in her chest when the earl had appeared and started issuing orders.
“May you be blessed with many children!” someone called.
Children!
Eva glanced at James, but he kept nodding graciously, as if he were the king dispensing benevolences. As they reached the coach, which was bedecked with garlands of flowers and ribbons, he helped her up onto the seat. Mr. Connors had laid back the top, so she had an excellent view of the church, the happy masses, and Maudie and James’s mother coming to join them. Maudie was chatting away to Mrs. Howland, who was white. Kip helped them up into the carriage as well.
“Lovely wedding,” Maudie said as she arranged her purple skirts. “I haven’t been more entertained in years.”
“James,” Mrs. Howland moaned, shoulders as tight as her face. “What have you done?”
“It will be fine, Mother,” James told her. As if he wasn’t as sure as he sounded, he glanced toward the church. Their wedding guests had followed them as well, and many still looked stunned. There was no sign of the earl.
“Will he join us, do you think?” Eva asked James.
“It depends,” James said, tapping the coachman’s box to signal Mr. Connors to head out. “He will have to decide which is more important at the moment—behaving in a manner that draws no attention to his circumstances or punishing me.”
“Punishing us,” Eva reminded him as the coach began to move through the crowds toward High Street. “We are in this together, sir.”
“For better, for worse,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips.
At his kiss, warmth went through her. She could not claim it was from the sun.
“Funny,” she said as he lowered her hand. “When I recited those words, I thought the for worse part might be longer in coming.”
“So did I,” his mother murmured, gaze haunted.
Maudie glanced among them, clearly perplexed. “You never know when the for worse part is coming. That’s why you have to make the best of the for better part.”
James cradled Eva’s hand closer. For a moment, she let herself dream of a future without the earl. Her and James, together, growing closer. Perhaps finding love…
They reached the assembly rooms a short time later. Purple bunting had been draped about the tall columns at the front, as if she and James were royalty. The elegant hall with its sea-blue walls held a long table down the center with a white cloth, a porcelain service edged in silver, and silver place settings. James led her to the two seats at the head of the table, and their guests came to fill up the sides. She was just thinking she might enjoy the meal after all when the earl arrived. He took the seat near the end of the table, and none of the people around him looked pleased by the fact. Mr. Crabapple went so far as to hold Mrs. Harding’s chair so she could rise and find another place.
Mrs. Greer, who was closer to the top, leaned around the others between her and James. “Your cousin, the earl, should not be so low. Mrs. Tully must exchange places with him.”
Maudie glared at her.
“Mrs. Tully has more than earned her place,” James said. “So has the earl.”
Mrs. Greer’s eyes widened, but she sat back.
“You are starting a fight,” Eva said, unable to keep the admiration from her voice.
“Give him an inch, and he’ll take a mile,” James returned. He smiled as the servers began bringing in the food.
And suddenly it wasn’t so very difficult to make herself eat. She had gone over the arrangements with the caterers, Mr. and Mrs. Inchley, but she hadn’t appreciated how well the Italian-dressed asparagus would go with the buttered prawns. Still, she far preferred the chicken and mushrooms, even though Maudie kept frowning at the dish as if she suspected the mushrooms had been stolen from a fairy circle.
“Allow me to congratulate you,” Captain St. Claire said to Eva partway through the meal from his place on her left. “It isn’t every day a villain like the earl is made to strike his colors.”
“Has he troubled you as well, Captain?” Eva asked, digging into the apple pie that made up part of the second course.
“Not directly, but I’ve seen his influence around the village. And I know how much he’s hurt James and his family.”
She glanced at her husband, who was having a spirited debate with Maudie on his right. They appeared to be discussing the educational prospects of trolls.
“When I first came here,” she said to the captain, “I thought he was one of the earl’s puppets.”
“James Howland is no one’s puppet.” He popped a stewed plum into his mouth and chewed a moment. “Neither are you, I think. Tell me, once the old boy comes to his senses, will you stay in Grace-by-the-Sea? You have a fortune, I hear. You could live anywhere.”
She could. All at once the future looked vast, endless. Eva drew a breath. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought much farther than this moment.”
“Then think carefully,” he advised. “The earl may lean on his prestige and force James out of his position, but James has been advocating for this village all his life. It will not be easy for him to let it go.”
She could imagine that. She had never felt such affinity for a place before coming here, but already she looked forward to meeting with Jesslyn and Abigail over tea, discussing books with Rosemary, helping decorate the church and assembly rooms for the next wedding, studying mushrooms with Maudie, and dancing and promenading with her husband at the assembly.
Her husband. Already it was easy to call James that.
As if he had told her enough privately, Captain St. Claire pushed to his feet. Down the table, voices quieted, gazes turned to him. He picked up his glass.
“Long have I known our magistrate,” he declared, voice ringing. She could see him standing so on the forecastle of a ship, rallying his men. “Seldom have I seen him so happy. He has feted us well,” he inclined his head to Eva, “they have feted us well, and you know how devoted he is to his village and his country that he will not serve us French champagne.”
He lifted his glass of cider as laughter echoed. “May he be as devoted to his Eva and she to him. To Eva and James.”
“To Eva and James,” the others chorused before drinking deep.
With a satisfied smile, the captain sat.
Maudie popped to her feet, her own glass up. “And to those that brought them together.”
“To friends,” James hastily added.
“To friends,” they all agreed, smiles flashing.
Eva leaned closer to him as Maudie sat. “What did you expect her to say—trolls and fairies?”
“Frankly,” he murmured back, “I was more afraid she’d say smugglers and spies.”
“Them too,” Maudie said.
Eva started laughing.
“Now, that is a sound I hope to hear more often,” James said.
Lost in his gaze, she didn’t notice the servers coming until they had laid the wedding cake on the table before them. Honey dripping down its sides, plums poking out here and there, the rich spice cake begged to be cut. James set about carving slices.
The toasts and laughter continued for some time. Courses came and went. Friends and family moved around the table to speak to her and James, offer their best wishes, their love and support. She only caught glimpses of the earl, once speaking with Mr. Denby and another time to Mrs. Kirby. Between Captain St. Claire on Mrs. Howland’s left and the guests who came to speak to her as well, James’s mother had relaxed and was smilin
g happily.
Then, the wishes turned to farewells, as, singly or in groups, their guests took their leave. Maudie gave Eva a hug and eyed James.
“Keep fighting,” she said.
He sobered and bowed to her. “Always, madam.”
With a nod, she went to join her niece and nephew and Mr. Denby.
Abigail accompanied Mr. Carroll out the door. Mr. Priestly, James’s secretary, walked with Mrs. North and her son. Mr. Greer attempted to leave several times before finally convincing his wife that she would not have an opportunity to converse with the earl. Lord Featherstone accompanied Mother Howland.
Captain St. Claire leaned closer to Eva and caught James’s eye. “Do you wish me to escort your unwelcome guest out?”
Eva glanced down the table to where the earl was sitting. He appeared to be contemplating his plate, which was strangely full. Had the servers taken pains to keep filling it, or had he refused to accept even this part of their hospitality?
“Don’t make trouble for yourself,” James said to his friend. “We’ll all leave together. If you’re ready, Eva?”
She gave him her hand, and he helped her up. They started for the door, Quillan St. Claire on her other side like the Queen’s Guard.
The earl rose and moved to meet them. “An excellent repast. Thank you for inviting me.”
What was this conciliatory tone? Eva wasn’t sure how to respond, but James inclined his head.
“You should know we have already moved our things out of the magistrate’s house.”
“Very considerate of you,” he said. “Mrs. Kirby was explaining it all to me.”
Eva felt chilled. “I didn’t realize you and Mrs. Kirby were on such good terms.”
“Half the property in the village belongs to me, my dear,” he said with a patronizing smile. “Of course I keep in touch with who’s managing it.”
“I manage it,” James said, voice sharpening. “If you know anything about Mrs. Kirby, it is through my reports.”
The earl waved a hand. “You argue semantics. Suffice it to say that you will not require that lease on Butterfly Manor. Ridiculous name for a house. I canceled the lease and ordered the staff to retrieve your belongings. You will all be moving in with me at the castle.”
Chapter Sixteen
James’s free hand fisted at his side. How many times had the earl put him in this position of having to do something he abhorred? Leaving his mother in London, preventing him from chartering the militia—those were only the latest. Defying the earl had always come with a penalty. He’d thought severing all ties would prevent the fellow from hurting him and Eva, yet here the earl stood, asserting control. In another situation, it would have been easy to refuse.
But James couldn’t leave him alone in the castle. Who knew what he might discover about Quill’s activities? And the earl might be in danger from those who had been using the place. With only a few staff, could he protect himself if their mysterious visitor started another fire? James might detest the earl, but he could not put him in harm’s way.
Neither did James dare look at Quill. That alone might give the earl insight into his concerns. He knew to his sorrow how well the earl could use his emotions against him.
“I regret, my lord,” he said, careful to keep his face neutral, “that we shut up the castle. It is in no shape to welcome you.”
The earl smiled, like a wolf about to attack. “I anticipated as much. That’s why I sent your servants straight from the church to see to the place. Lord Featherstone is helping Mrs. Howland on her way there now.”
Eva started. “That’s why I didn’t see Yeager about! How dare you! He isn’t your servant. He’s mine, and so is Patsy.”
“Surely you would be more comfortable in the village, my lord,” Quill put in smoothly. “I understand the magistrate’s house is empty.”
“And has already been consigned to Mrs. Kirby’s care for leasing,” the earl said.
He cut off their every escape. James gritted his teeth. “I will accompany you, then. We need not inconvenience Eva.”
She stiffened beside him even as the earl inclined his head, smile smug.
“Surely we should not trespass on the earl’s good graces, husband,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. “We can stay at the inn if need be until we can reinstate the lease to Butterfly Manor.” She spared the earl a glance. “Mother Howland was so looking forward to returning to her childhood home.”
“I am convinced she will do just as well at the castle,” the earl said.
Meaning he intended to continue to use her as leverage.
“I know you had reservations about the castle’s suitability as a home,” James told Eva. “Perhaps you would be happier at the Swan. It’s right in the village. Mother can stay with you.”
Eva met his gaze, eyes narrowed as if she was trying to see deep inside him. If only he could tell her all the things in his mind, his heart. But never in front of the earl.
“That is very thoughtful of you, James,” she said. “But I will go where you go, as your wife.”
He should not feel so buoyed by her support. She put herself at risk by accompanying him. He had no doubt the earl would try to use her against him as well.
“What a fine, sensible woman you’ve married,” the earl said. “Eva, dear, you can accompany me while James bids farewell to his friend.”
Something hard settled in his wife’s eyes. “Why, I’d never leave my husband to such a task. Please go ahead of us. We may be some time. So many things to say to our valiant captain.” She seized Quill with her free hand and dragged them both back to the nearly empty table.
The movement was just this side of rude. Some might even have considered it the cut direct.
James wanted to applaud her.
“You, madam,” Quill said, as they stood at the foot of the table the servers were now clearing, “are a force to be reckoned with, and I can only lament that James married you first.”
“And I can only lament that I don’t understand any of this,” she said. “James, why are you agreeing to live with him even for a moment? You know he’s plotting something.”
“Of course he is,” James agreed. “But I need to know what he’s plotting if I’m to fight it.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Then let me fight it with you.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t have to fight at all.”
“So would I, but it’s clear he’s not willing to admit defeat. Captain St. Claire suggested we leave Grace-by-the-Sea to escape him.”
James glanced at his friend, who held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m merely a minor player in this farce. But I stand by my assessment. Leaving might be your only option if you truly want to live away from the earl’s influence.”
“You don’t understand, either of you,” James insisted. “His fingers reach into every part of the empire. I can imagine nowhere we could go if we cannot make our stand here.”
Again she squeezed his arm. “Then let us stand.” She pasted on a smile, and he realized Mrs. Inchley was approaching.
The caterer inclined her head. “Was there anything else you needed, Mrs. Howland?” She had to be wondering why the three of them and the earl remained.
“We merely wanted to thank you,” Eva assured her. “Everything was perfect.”
She curtsied. “You are very welcome. And many happy returns to you both.”
Eva nodded her thanks, and the caterer resumed her work. Eva looked to James. “How else can we delay the inevitable?”
James chuckled. “You’ll only vex him.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Quill tipped his chin toward the kitchen behind the main hall. “Perhaps you should personally thank all the servers as well.”
She smiled and strolled off, purple skirts swaying.
James stepped closer to Quill. “It seems Eva and I are stuck in the castle for the time being. I’ll try to keep everyone away from the caves. Do I need to cle
an them out just to be safe? Is there anything incriminating to find?”
Quill pursed his lips. “Just Alex’s fire circle. I would confirm that myself, but I won’t be able to sail in until the tide turns, and that’s after midnight tonight.”
“Don’t try it,” James said. “You’ve already found another place to land, I take it?”
Quill nodded. James held up a hand before he could speak. “Don’t tell me until we know the earl is out of our lives. I want to give him nothing to bargain for.”
“And here you thought he’d give up his favorite plaything so easily,” Quill said with a wry chuckle.
“I had hoped when he realized he’d lost his hold on me and Eva he would decamp,” James admitted. “That may take longer than anticipated.”
Quill patted his shoulder. “Hope springs eternal.” He lowered his hand. “What about the caves, then?”
“I’ll deal with them,” James promised. And he would protect Eva and his mother as well.
~~~
Eva came out of the kitchen to see Captain St. Claire clapping her new husband on the shoulder as if they had settled on a plan, a plan to which she wasn’t privy. Why was it so hard to trust James? So many in the village thought well of him—look at the turnout at their wedding. But any number of people, like Mrs. Greer, toadied up to the earl. Even Eva’s astute father had been taken in by him.
Had she allowed James to do the same to her?
The need to believe him beat like a second heart in her breast. He’d gone along with her mad plan for a marriage of convenience. He’d made the arrangement that saved her fortune. He’d trusted her to find them a home.
Or had he intended to move them into the castle all along? She’d thought she’d saved her future from the earl by marrying James. Had she merely traded one scheming Howland for another?