“There you are, Evelyn,” Mamma said from her place at the foot of the table. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send a footman up to fetch you.”
Evie murmured an apology, though it wouldn’t do a whit of good in deflecting her mother’s ire.
A quick glance around the table revealed that only a few of their guests had joined them. The ladies hadn’t come down, and some of the men had probably eaten earlier and then gone fishing with her father. Eden was there, of course, and Matt, along with Michael and Lord Portmire, who looked sleepy and befuddled, as usual.
Unfortunately, Will and Captain Gilbride were there too, which meant Evie’s luck had completely run out.
The men all rose to their feet and bid her good morning, then Will pulled out the empty seat beside him for her. His rather stern mouth curved up in a polite smile that failed to span the distance to his riveting blue eyes. If one could be said to be smiling and scowling at the same time that was Will.
His eminently reasonable demeanor was better than she deserved, but she still had no intention of sitting next to him, if for no other reason than he might be tempted to accidentally dump his plate of coddled eggs and ham in her lap. There was no point in tempting fate.
“Come sit by me, dearest,” Eden said brightly, patting the empty seat next to her.
Feeling like the worst sort of coward, she headed to the other side of the table, dropping into the seat between Eden and Michael with a barely repressed sigh of relief. Between her mother’s glare and Will’s narrow-eyed inspection, she felt like she’d been forced to run a gauntlet.
“Good morning, my dear,” Michael murmured in a solicitous voice. Like Will, he subjected her to a close inspection, but his gaze conveyed concern rather than disapproval.
No wonder he looked concerned. After a sleepless night, Evie fancied she looked rather like Lady Alice, the pale, pinch-faced Elizabethan ancestor who peered down from her portrait in the upstairs gallery. Legend had it that Alice haunted the top floor, drifting around in an annoyingly insubstantial manner, frightening the maids. Evie felt rather stretched and insubstantial herself this morning, although no one with her sturdy frame could be accused of fading away. She could never truly play a tragedy queen, given that she was as healthy as an ox. She simply wasn’t built for lying around on couches in dimly lit rooms, vinegar in one hand and smelling salts in the other.
“Can I make up a plate for you?” Michael asked.
“No, thank you,” she said, forcing a smile.
It was time to stop feeling fragile. True, she owed Will an apology and that wouldn’t be fun, but there was no reason to mope about simply because an old friend had stopped by for a visit. She should be happy to see him, and supremely grateful he had escaped the carnage of Waterloo unscathed.
“I’ll just have tea and toast,” she said. “Then we can spend the rest of the morning going over the books, if you’d like.”
Michael had brought a great deal of paperwork with him, including the ledgers for the charity school at St. Margaret’s and the other relief services the church provided to the local population. They also needed to write a series of letters to prospective donors, since their foremost patron, Lord Ellsworth, had died a few months ago. They had enough funds to keep things running for the rest of the year, but the financial situation would grow precarious after that. While Michael channelled a good deal of his own money directly into St. Margaret’s coffers, that couldn’t go on forever, as Lord Leger, his father, had recently made clear. Although sympathetic to the travails of the Irish immigrants, the earl believed his youngest son far too willing to spend his money on the undeserving poor.
“If you wish,” Michael replied with a smile, “but it’s a lovely day out. If you’d like to do something else, we can work on the books later.”
“Now, Miss Evelyn, why would ye be wantin’ to spend the morning with your head in a fusty old book?” Captain Gilbride said from across the table. “Surely we can do better, especially on a day as fine as this.”
Evie peered at him, mystified by the captain’s inconsistent brogue. Most times, his accent mirrored that of an English aristocrat who’d spent his formative years at Eton and Oxford. But once or twice last night he’d slipped into a Scottish accent heavy enough to make her think he might leap to his feet and commence dancing a reel. She was beginning to suspect that Gilbride affected the accent as more of a joke than anything else, although she couldn’t imagine why. Her suspicions were confirmed by the incredulous lift to Will’s eyebrows as he eyed his friend.
“No doubt you’re longing for an excursion in the great outdoors,” Will commented sardonically to Alec. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’ve heard about some bonny ruins no more than a half hour’s ride away. An old abbey, I believe.”
“That would be the Abbey of St. Osmund,” Eden said in a bored voice.
Most visitors to Maywood Manor made the trip to the picturesque ruins, and Evie and her sister had been there at least a dozen times. As pretty as the ruins were, she had no desire to see them again.
“Yes, that’s it,” Gilbride said with a smile so charming that any woman but Eden would have dissolved into a puddle at his feet.
But Evie’s twin simply shrugged, making her disdain for the suggestion abundantly clear. “It’s an old Cistercian abbey that fell into ruins after the monasteries were shut down. It’s pretty, but nothing unusual.”
“Aye, but it sounds like the perfect way to spend the morning with a pair of lovely lasses such as you and Miss Evelyn,” Gilbride said. “There’ll be ample opportunity to wander among the ruins, I imagine, and no telling what a lad and a lassie might get up to.”
The captain punctuated his outrageous comment with a broad wink at Eden. When he winced, Evie was certain Will had just kicked him under the table.
After several moments of highly fraught silence in which Eden seemed too stunned to respond, Mamma dredged up a strained smile. “I think that’s a splendid idea, girls,” she said. “You can either take the landau or ride with the men.”
Of course.
This was what Mamma had been hoping for all along, probably intending to throw her together with Will. She had little doubt her mother had told Gilbride about the ruins in the first place.
“Thank you, Mamma,” she answered, trying to sound appropriately regretful. “I’m afraid Michael and I have a great deal of work to do this morning. Perhaps tomorrow might serve.”
Her mother put her teacup down with a decided click. “Evelyn, that kind of cavalier rudeness is something I particularly abhor. Captain Gilbride has gone out of his way to propose an entertainment that all the young people can enjoy. I’m shocked you would respond in so negative a fashion.”
Evie froze. Rarely did her mother deliver her scolds in front of anyone but family members. To be castigated publicly, especially in front of Will, made Evie sick to her stomach. Then again, her mother had never treated Will with any special consideration, and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard Lady Reese take her daughter to task.
Sure enough, when Evie snuck a peek at him, Will was regarding her mother with open disapproval. In fact, he scowled so fiercely that Evie began to worry that her mother would both take notice and offense.
Eden sprang to her defense. “Mamma, there’s no need to poke up at Evie. I have no desire to go to the ruins, either.” She switched her gaze to Captain Gilbride. “If you want to know the truth, they’re a dead bore, and certainly not the way I want to spend the day.” Her tone clearly indicated she found the captain a dead bore too.
“No one is interested in your opinion, Eden,” Mamma said in a severe voice. “Evelyn, I will not have you spending the day locked up in the library with Mr. Beaumont, conspiring over that dreary charity of yours. For one, it’s not healthy. For another, I don’t approve of your associating with the type of unsavory and dangerous characters frequenting that part of the city. I’ve been meaning to talk to your father about
it for an age, and I intend to do so as soon as possible.”
Evie could feel Michael stiffen beside her. His reaction was understandable since Mamma’s tone and expression made it clear she considered him one of the unsavory characters lurking around St. Margaret’s.
“Mamma, that’s unjust,” she blurted out, her anger on Michael’s behalf pushing her to respond. “Mr. Beaumont and I are doing wonderful work in St. Giles, and it’s unfair to suggest otherwise. And I have no intention of giving up my work, no matter what you or Papa might think.”
Her mother’s gasp of outrage hissed through the awkward silence that had fallen over the breakfast parlor.
“Now you’ve done it,” Eden murmured under her breath.
Already regretting her outburst, Evie cast a shamefaced glance at Will and Gilbride. But Will wasn’t paying any attention to her or to Mamma. Instead, he studied Michael with a sort of focused interest, as if Michael’s reaction to the ugly family scene was the only one that mattered.
“Well, this is a pickle,” Gilbride said. “My dear Lady Reese, I do beg your forgiveness. It was foolish of me to assume that the ladies and Mr. Beaumont didn’t already have plans for the day. I’m happy to postpone our outing until a more convenient time.”
As upset as Evie was, she couldn’t help noticing the captain’s Highland brogue had disappeared—again. More to the point, his smile was so ruefully charming that even Mamma would have trouble withstanding it. Evie added thanking Captain Gilbride to her mental list of things to do that day.
“Not at all, my dear sir,” her mother replied, unbending a bit. “I entirely support your idea to visit the ruins. As soon as I’m finished with my tea, I will instruct my housekeeper to have a picnic lunch made up.” She leveled a stern glance in Evie’s direction, one that said and I’ll deal with you later. “The girls can be ready to go within the hour.”
Eden let out a dramatic sigh. “Mamma, if Evie and Mr. Beaumont don’t wish to go . . .” She trailed off when their mother’s eyebrows crawled up her forehead.
“I think it a delightful idea,” Michael said in a cheerful voice. “A lovely day such as this is not to be wasted.” He nodded politely across the table to Gilbride. “Thank you for suggesting it, sir. I can’t remember the last time I went on a picnic.”
Gilbride looked startled but quickly recovered. “Capital! It’s all set, then.”
Mamma blinked several times, obviously torn between relief that she’d gotten her way and annoyance that it was Michael who’d smoothed things over.
“Are you sure?” Evie whispered to him. “I know how you detest that sort of outing. And we have so much work to do.”
Michael gave her such a sweet smile that Evie remembered why she was going to marry him. She wasn’t madly in love with him, but no man had ever treated her with such courtesy and consideration. That surely counted a great deal more than passion, or the quivery feeling one got behind the knees when a certain person walked into the room.
But even as Michael assured her that he was agreeable to the change in plans, Evie felt Will’s gaze pulling at her, so familiar and strong that it frightened her. Reluctantly, she met it head-on, expecting to see sardonic amusement over this morning’s domestic tempest in a teapot.
But it wasn’t amusement or even mockery she discerned in his gaze. His expression was intent as he studied her, and when his gaze flicked over to Michael, it darkened with something that looked surprisingly like resentment. Or was it jealousy?
That, she told herself as she rose to her feet, simply couldn’t be true.
Chapter Seven
Evie hurried through the entrance hall as she pulled on her gloves. She was woefully late since she’d been dragging her feet upstairs in the vain hope that the riding party would leave without her. In fact, she’d almost worked up the courage to defy her mother’s orders when Eden had rushed in, determined not to leave without her.
“I know you don’t want to see Will,” her sister had said, “but you can’t hide away forever. The war is over and we’ll be running into him on a regular basis, so you’d better get used to it. Besides, Mamma will raise a horrid fuss and that benefits no one, especially Michael.”
That annoying logic had punctured Evie’s resistance. Drawing her mother’s fire onto Michael’s head was hardly fair, given the noble gesture he’d already made to deflect her ill temper.
Smiling absently at the footman holding the door open, Evie rushed outside but was forced to pause under the portico until her vision adjusted to the bright morning sunshine. The effect was always intensified by the glare off her spectacles’ lenses, and it took a few moments until the motes dancing in front of her eyes began to clear.
“About time.” Eden grinned at her from atop Castor, her bay gelding. “I thought we were going to have to send out a search party.”
“They wouldn’t have had to search very hard, would they?” Evie replied tartly as she descended the shallow marble steps.
Castor shook his head, obviously eager to be off. Eden settled him with an easy touch, totally in control of the large horse. She looked enchanting, as usual, in her forest-green riding habit and dashing feathered cap.
It always amazed Evie that her sister rode so confidently given the fact she refused to wear spectacles. Evie’s heart leapt to her throat every time her twin took a hedge or soared over a ditch, but Eden never seemed to falter. She’d developed strategies over the years to compensate for her poor eyesight, one of which had been to find and train Castor until he was uncannily attuned to his mistress. It was the only thing that kept Evie from blurting out hysterical warnings every time her sister galloped out in her bold, fearless style.
She glanced around the small group on the gravel drive, mounted and ready for their expedition. Michael smiled down at her from one of the gentler horses from Maywood’s stables, while Captain Gilbride allowed his gigantic black stallion to prance around the forecourt. Lord Deerling and Sir Reginald Baskerton, two of Eden’s most persistent suitors, had joined them as well, flanking Eden as they vied for her attention.
But Will was missing, as was a groom with Evie’s horse.
“Where’s Pollux?” she asked, referring to her gelding. She didn’t enquire after Will, since she had no intention of displaying any interest in him.
“Lady Reese thought you might be more comfortable riding in Will’s curricle,” Gilbride answered. “Capital idea, as I told your dear mamma. That way you can also bring the picnic basket. I must admit to already feeling rather peckish, despite this morning’s excellent breakfast.”
When that comment earned him an incredulous stare from Eden, Gilbride simply gave her a dazzling grin in return. The big Scotsman’s smile could disarm any female, but right now Evie had to resist the impulse to throw her hat at him. Logic told her that it wasn’t his fault she had to ride with Will—that was entirely Mamma’s doing. Then again, Gilbride had been the one to suggest this morning’s dreary little outing, so perhaps she needn’t feel guilty for wanting to bash him over the head.
“I am, of course, pleased to be of assistance, Captain Gilbride,” she said. “I had thought to ride today, but Lord knows we don’t want you missing a meal. You might faint from hunger and fall off your horse.”
Gilbride’s eyes widened at her retort, which instantly made Evie feel better. Her riposte had been terribly ill-mannered, but she would be sure to say extra prayers at church on Sunday to make up for it.
“I’m sorry, darling,” Eden said, trying not to laugh. “I tried to dissuade Mamma, but she was adamant that it would be more fun for you.”
“I must remember to thank her,” Evie responded dryly.
Oh well, at least she could use the opportunity to apologize to Will. And since they would be in an open-air carriage, surrounded by the riders, things couldn’t get too intimate. Eden would try to stick close and no doubt Michael would ride next to the carriage whenever the width of the laneway allowed. Really, there was no reason for her heart
to thump so erratically or for her palms to feel damp inside her tightly fitted gloves.
But a moment later, when Will’s curricle appeared beneath the stone arch leading from the stables, Evie knew there was more than a little cause for concern.
He drove a beautifully matched pair of grays, expertly wheeling them in a neat circle to the front of the house. As she might have expected, he handled the rig with skill and confidence, his impressive masculine form on full display since the warm September day obviated the need for a caped driving coat. His perfectly cut, form-fitting blue coat showcased his broad shoulders, and his biscuit-colored breeches clung like a second skin to his long, muscular legs. He rested one booted foot against the gently curving dashboard, smiling down at her as he brought the horses to a smooth stop.
“Your carriage awaits, my lady,” he said, sweeping off his hat with an uncharacteristic flourish. His smile widened into a grin as roguish as one of Captain Gilbride’s.
Though she’d been immune to the Scotsman’s attempt to charm her, Will succeeded in raising a flutter of nerves in her belly. Evie realized, with no small degree of dismay, that no other man’s smile—not even Michael’s—held anything like the same power.
As she struggled to respond to this unfamiliar, debonair version of Will, his smile faded into a puzzled expression. “Evie, are you all right?”
“Um, yes, of course,” she said.
Trying not to appear as flustered as she felt, she gathered her skirts and reached for Will’s outstretched hand. But Michael had dismounted and rushed over to help her.
“Please, take my hand, Evelyn,” he said in a kind voice at odds with the nasty look he directed at Will.
Will regarded Michael as if he were a lower order of species. Evie was sure his father, the Duke of York, could not have looked more arrogant than he did glaring down his nose at the other man. It almost appeared as if the two were marking their territory, for lack of a better term, and she was apparently the territory.
How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy Page 8