Mayhews
To Be by Your Side
Lady Evelyn Mayhew is the younger, spinster sister of the Earl of Dalton. Perhaps her greatest disadvantage in Society is her failing eyesight. However, at the age of twenty-six, Evelyn has well and truly ruined herself when she thought she had fallen in love with her brother’s friend. Over a year later she returns to Society and Evelyn finds opportunity of love with the man who has become the object of gossip.
The Duke of Windermere, Lord George Marsden, finds himself the talk of London after his wife left him for another man. Now scandalously divorced and on the edge of Society, he meets Lady Evelyn. He recognises a woman that has been hurt and George decides to become her knight in shining armour, albeit quite tarnished. The question being, once George finds out Evelyn’s secret, will he accept her or reject her?
Genre: Historical
Length: 44,662 words
TO BE BY YOUR SIDE
Mayhews
Lilybeth Zefram
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
TO BE BY YOUR SIDE
Copyright © 2015 by Lilybeth Zefram
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-379-5
First E-book Publication: May 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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DEDICATION
For my big sister.
She is the one that filled my imagination with stories.
She is the person who helped develop my interest in history and science. She did so when I was a child and continues to this day.
I did not realize why the sibling relationship in this story was so familiar until I wrote this dedication. It is because it mirrors mine with my big sister.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
About the Author
TO BE BY YOUR SIDE
Mayhews
LILYBETH ZEFRAM
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
London, Summer of 1816
The lady gasped at the skilled touch of her gentleman lover. When the gentleman chuckled it sent a frisson of pleasure down the lady’s spine. The gentleman was more than pleased with her reaction to his touch.
‘Oh, Matt,’ gasped the lady once more.
‘I love the delicate sounds you make when we make love,’ he said against the shell of her ear. ‘So beautiful, my Evie-May.’ He moved his body against her, making sure she felt his arousal.
‘Mmm, I’m not beautiful.’ She sighed. ‘But you are. My eyes do not have to be fully functioning to know you are most beautiful.’
The lady, Lady Evelyn Mayhew, sister to the Earl of Dalton, James Mayhew, had no qualms about herself. She was too tall for a lady. She had inherited her father’s height. She was barely a few inches shorter than her six-foot older brother. She had inherited her Italian mother’s darker looks, from skin to hair to eyes, none of which was at all the fashion. She had hard-to-tame, flowing, wavy hair which frizzed at the least bit of humidity. However, she was also losing her sight, probably one of the worst-kept secrets of the ton, after who is having an affair with whom. She could see colours and shapes, but much was a blur to her now, and though spectacles helped they also gave her fierce headaches. And if that wasn’t enough, in her younger years before her sight started to fail, she had been a bookworm. She still hungered for knowledge, except these days she attended public lectures.
‘You are, my dear.’ Matthew kissed her softly and thoroughly, running his hand down her body, cupping and squeezing her breast. He reverently moved to kiss a trail down her neck until he suckled at one nipple, then the other.
She had well and truly ruined herself. She could never be anything other than a spinster. At the age of six and twenty she was most certainly on the shelf. No one wanted a half-blind spinster for a wife, even if she came with the least bit of money and her brother was an earl. Regardless, her attraction to one of her brother’s friends, Matthew Ashton, a second son and the younger brother of the Duke of Rushmore, had been there for years. Her foolish childhood love had become a woman’s love. She loved the man more deeply than anyone or anything in the world. His happiness counted a great deal to her. When he had been fighting she had worried, especially when she was alone in her bedchambers. But Matthew had never seen her in this light. Even now.
A soft moan slipped out of her mouth and she felt the moist heat between her legs. Matthew had taught her some wicked things whenever they contrived to be in a bed. It was such a thrilling experience that left her wanting more.
‘Matt, you have turned me into a wanton,’ she gasped. ‘Oh, yes, please.’
‘Anything for you, Evie-May.’ He
called her by her nickname.
The last four months in London with Matthew had been blissful, if very foolish to the extreme. They had given into passion after Evelyn’s grandmother’s funeral. With the death of her beloved grandmama, Evelyn only had James left now. Orphaned as young children, they had been raised by their grandparents, the earl and countess of Dalton. So grief had turned into passion.
Matthew had said nothing could come out of their association when Evelyn was adamant they continue. They were extremely discreet, too. To that end, they had agreed that Matthew would not buy her any expensive trinkets. She may be a spinster, but Evelyn had her pride and she had to be able to go on with life once Matthew decided to end their relationship.
And she knew it would be Matthew to end their time together. She would wed the man if he would. But she knew that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t. After all, she wasn’t pretty, half blind, and too old for marriage. When she had been told that she was losing her sight, she was told it wouldn’t be in the conventional sense. Instead, her entire field of vision just became blurry over the years. Before it had become as bad as it was now, she had been able to see close up. Only the distance was blurry. Spectacles had been an acceptable treatment to this problem, too. But when the entire world became a blur and swirl of undefined colour and vaguely recognizable shapes, no type of spectacle could help her see.
‘I want to bury myself inside you,’ he said even as he started to position himself over her. She spread her legs, welcoming him.
‘Please, I need you now,’ she cried out as he entered her in one swift stroke.
Matthew was relentless in their passions and had her crying out his name as release took over her body. Evelyn sighed as Matthew grunted. He wasn’t able to withdraw in time to spill his seed on the sheets. So she locked her legs around his waist, keeping his delicious length inside her.
‘Heavenly,’ he moaned, panting after he had emptied completely inside her.
Evelyn just smiled. Utterly satiated and content.
‘We can have a quick nap before I must get you home without raising suspicions,’ he whispered.
She cuddled into his strong arms. She inhaled the intoxicating scent of his chest. She sighed and muttered something that was close enough to agreeing with her lover.
* * * *
‘Evie,’ Matthew said softly once they were both fully dressed. ‘Before we leave, we must discuss something.’
‘Of course, Matt, what is it?’ she asked with a smile. Evelyn couldn’t make out his features so she couldn’t see the expression on his, but his tone sounded ominous. She’d only been able to see shapes for the past five years, no details, so she had learnt to use her ears more and more.
‘Let us sit,’ he said gently, taking her hand and leading her back to the bed.
‘I have...news,’ he told her. His words were slow and measured, as though he were trying to find the right words.
Evelyn frowned. ‘I do not like the sound of your voice, Matt.’
‘Evie-May, we’ve known as soon as we started that this could not last forever between us,’ Matthew said, his voice becoming hard and seemingly impenetrable to her ears.
‘I know,’ she sighed, looking down at her lap and fiddling with her skirts. ‘May I ask why now?’
In fact, she knew that Matthew was more than happy with their arrangement because he had told her as much. He had insisted that no other woman compared to her, in and out of bed. He had told Evelyn that she was the perfect mistress. Because she knew she could never be a wife.
‘My betrothal is being announced next week, to Lady Annabel Warrington.’
‘Of course,’ she said, sucking in a deep breath. Evelyn desperately battled to compose herself. Having had proper sight for eighteen years of her life, she knew that her expression could give away her emotions. She had been told numerous times that her expressions often gave her away.
‘Of course?’ echoed Matthew.
‘As you said, the end was and is inevitable.’ Evelyn suddenly felt the urge to run away.
‘Yes.’
‘But what if I were with child?’ she asked quite suddenly.
‘I have not spilled inside you very often and we have followed your monthly cycles. Do not make our time together ugly by scheming.’
‘I wasn’t,’ Evelyn said through numb lips. ‘I–I just have to be certain to cover all possibilities.’ She did not want to even make their last moments ugly. ‘But of course, you are correct.’ Then she added something she occasionally wished was not the truth. ‘Besides, at my age it wouldn’t be bound to happen anyway if we did leave it to chance.’
‘I am sorry, Evie. I do not wish to end our time together.’
‘But you are to be engaged and then wed. It would not be fair for Lady Annabel. I understand and admire you for that, Matthew.’
‘I am pleased that you seem so understanding,’ Matthew replied. ‘I do not regret out time together but you understand as well as I do the inappropriateness of our connection. I know that you would never want to be my mistress, either, as much as I would like you to think of the possibility.’
‘Matthew,’ gasped Evelyn, ‘that is a horrible thing to say to a lady. You need to consider your fiancée.’
‘And you, Evie, are a remarkable woman. You deserve better than to be my secret liaison.’
‘Thank you.’ She sniffed. ‘But that is not how I feel.’
Evelyn, now composed, looked into his eyes, her eyes red from threatening tears.
‘I think it best I leave, Lord Matthew.’ She intentionally placed the distance between them by using his title, even if they were still in his bedchamber.
‘Yes.’ Matthew nodded sadly, knowing the coldness in her voice was his fault.
She knew as well as he that she was an unsuitable bride. She was too old to make a respectable wife, particularly since he had not been wed before. And he was a mere two years older than her, too. Her eyesight was another factor. It would be difficult to have a blind and respectable wife. But they weren’t the real reasons. These were just flimsy excuses he knew Evelyn would often tell herself to justify her place in life as a spinster. His family also needed an alliance with the Warrington family. His marriage would merge the two estates. Matthew would inherit the land Annabel could not without a husband, being that she was the sole heir. His marriage, he bitterly acknowledged, was a strategic marriage and a necessary evil for his family. Since serving in Wellington’s army and defeating Napoleon it was now his duty to his family to wed where they demanded.
Yet he worried for Evelyn. Her situation was something that had kept him awake for some weeks now since he had found out the arrangements had been made official between the families. Matthew knew now Evelyn had come of an age, that she could enjoy a good many admirers lavishing her with attention, even if the thought of another man touching her made him sick to the stomach. Not only that, but their families were friends, after all, and she counted the Duchess of Rushmore as a friend.
Matthew knew he cared more for Lady Evelyn Mayhew more than he wanted to admit. And now the proud woman was making a valiant effort to leave him without showing her hurt.
He wasn’t sure how he felt for her, but he knew leaving her would be his greatest regret and the most honourable thing he had done.
Chapter 1
Three Months Later
Lady Evelyn Mayhew somehow made it to the townhouse she shared with her older brother. Mustering all her grace, she left the carriage. She hardly gave Matthew a second look. She knew she had to savagely cut everything between them if she were to survive. It hadn’t been until that moment that she had realised how in love with the man she was. Since she knew the path so well, she made it to her bedchamber without encountering a servant. They knew that she maintained her independence within the home. Going past her brother’s study, she heard his soft tenor and the seemingly musical tones of his personal secretary.
As soon as she was in her bedchamber, she allowed her te
ars to fall. After a few minutes of gasping sobs, Evelyn made a beeline to her chamber pot, where she heaved up all the food she had eaten at lunch. With all the stress of the day, she could hardly be surprised. And still she continued to cry.
Suddenly fatigued, Evelyn all but crawled into bed. She bit into a washcloth, almost stuffing it into her mouth to act in place of rinsing her mouth out, and also to stifle her cries.
She started dozing off when she heard a soft knock at her door and someone coming in. It was her maid, Katie.
‘Oh, m’lady, you have been sick again,’ the young lady said softly. ‘You just nap. Milord wanted to know if you were home. Of course, we told him you came home well over a half hour ago. He hadn’t heard you come in.’
Evelyn opened her eyes briefly to see Katie taking the chamber pot away and placing it near the window she just opened. She was glad that the putrid smell was going to finally leave soon. The maid straightened things up a bit.
‘Here, milady,’ Katie said softly. ‘Let me take your boots and stockings off so you can get more comfortable.’
‘Thank you, Katie,’ sighed Evelyn, feeling the urge to cry once more, realising that she had been undressed not so long ago for a different reason.
‘Oh, hush, Evie, you look flushed.’ Katie tutted. ‘Let’s get you in bed and I will get Cook to make some nice broth for you.’
‘I feel too ill to eat,’ Evelyn whimpered.
‘Well, don’t you worry, milady. I’m here to look after you now.’
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