They’d gone way past propriety, in any case.
He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against the back, earning himself a shy smile.
From here on, he was going to chase after her uncle like a man possessed.
The sooner he helped her sort out the tangled mess of her life, the sooner he could beg her to be his.
“Of course, if you hadn’t been so unpardonably rude, Evelyn, you would know all the details of the ball yourself. But since you could not be bothered to pay your respects to our guests, I am now wasting my time relaying everything to you.”
Evelyn had known her aunt would be upset with her for not being present at Millicent’s at home this morning. At the time, she had thought it would be worth it. Right now, after hours of her aunt’s tongue lashings, she wasn’t quite so sure.
She had already received an earful for being late to dinner. But given that Andrew had had to sneak to her room to quickly unbutton her gown, and Evelyn had then needed to recover from having his hands on her bare skin once more, it was a miracle she’d even made it to dinner. Mercifully, Molly had returned her gowns, freshly cleaned and pressed so she was able to ready herself in record time as soon as she was able to move again.
The best course of action in these situations, Evelyn knew, was to stay quiet and ride out the storm, and that was what she had been doing since luncheon.
Her cousins knew the same, so aside from sympathetic glances, they did not get involved.
Mr. Grant and her uncle were seemingly oblivious.
A quick glance at Andrew, however, revealed that he was not at all oblivious.
“My apologies, Mrs. Spencer,” he spoke, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “I’m afraid Miss Spencer’s absence was my fault. I begged her to show me some more of the grounds and did not even give the poor girl the chance to ask permission. If you must berate someone for this morning’s outing, let it be me.”
The silence that followed his thinly veiled criticism of Aunt Millicent’s lecture was deafening. The woman was not accustomed to being taken to task, however faux politely.
Evelyn gaped at Andrew then turned to see her aunt becoming a rather alarming shade of puce.
She was furious, no doubt about it. But since she had always been an obsessive social climber, Evelyn couldn’t imagine that she would countenance being impolite to a viscount.
It would be interesting, to say the least, to see how she would react.
The silence was growing steadily more uncomfortable as Aunt Millicent appeared to struggle to answer, and nobody else was inclined to try to break it.
Finally, Aunt Millicent spoke. “You are very good to inform me of what happened this morning, my lord,” she said, her tone saccharine, but her eyes shooting daggers as they looked at Evelyn. “However, my niece has an unfortunate habit of being rudely late to or even absent from any number of events, and so naturally I assumed—“
“Miss Spencer,” Andrew cut through Millicent’s set down, and Evelyn’s eyes flew to him. “You have never struck me as anything other than unfailingly polite. Can it be that you have been fooling me all this time?”
Evelyn felt her cheeks warm. Her aunt would have her head if he should keep championing her in this manner.
And yet…
It did feel good to have someone so determined to stick up for her. It made her quite ashamed that she had never done so for herself.
Taking a deep breath and knowing she would pay dearly as soon as Aunt Millicent got her alone, Evelyn smiled with a confidence she didn’t feel.
“I have not been fooling you at all, my lord. At least not to my knowledge.” They shared a secret smile as they both thought on just how much she had deceived him. “I always endeavour to be punctual and polite.”
Evelyn didn’t have to look at her aunt to know the older lady was most probably having an apoplexy at Evelyn’s insubordination.
No, she kept her eyes fixed on Andrew, and the pride she saw in his own was worth any punishment her aunt might think up for her.
Anna gave a little laugh, no doubt trying to ease the tension at the table.
“Poor Evie. I have kept her late countless times myself. Speaking of which, Mama, we have left it rather late to have new gowns made for the ball. Do you think my rose silk will do?”
Anna’s question was an obvious attempt to distract her mother before Millicent went into a full-scale tantrum. Thankfully, it seemed to work, and the rest of dinner was taken up with discussions on gowns, gossip about possible ball attendees, and the general chatter that Aunt Millicent so enjoyed.
Evelyn wisely kept quiet for the remainder of the dinner, and, to her relief, Andrew did the same.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, and Evelyn took her leave as soon as was acceptable.
As she said her goodnights, she glanced at Andrew and saw that he discreetly held up three of his fingers. Three in the morning.
Giving a quick nod to show she understood, Evelyn went to her room to once again pretend to sleep. She needed real sleep. Oh, how she needed sleep! But it was to remain an impossibility until her uncle was brought to justice. The good news was that Andrew’s kisses that day had been playing on her mind so much, sleep would have been elusive in any case, and there was no fear of her accidentally nodding off.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Another late night, Ash?”
Andrew had heard footsteps approaching but, assuming they were Eve’s, hadn’t paid enough attention.
Once again, he was slipping.
Turning from the table where he’d been pouring himself a drink, he smiled at Jonathan and held up the decanter in silent question.
Jonathan nodded then raised a brow, awaiting an answer.
“You know I’ve always kept late hours. Even while rusticating in the country,” Andrew answered casually, glancing at the clock upon the fireplace and seeing that it was almost three. He hoped Evelyn would hear their voices and know to hide.
Jonathan remained silent as he took the tumbler from Andrew’s hand.
Andrew and Jonathan had known each other so long, had been in such intense situations where they had to rely on and trust each other implicitly to survive, that they knew each other inside out.
So Andrew knew that Jonathan was working up to discussing something he wasn’t happy with, and Jonathan most likely knew that Andrew was hiding something from him.
After sipping their drinks in silence, facing each other across the study in which he had found Andrew, Jonathan finally spoke.
“Evie,” he said as though Andrew had asked aloud what this was about, and Andrew’s heart just about stopped.
“What about her?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Nothing. Just — when we first arrived here, you were convinced she was in cohorts with my father in some dastardly scheme or other. Now…” He paused and left the word hanging, but Andrew refused to react.
Was it suddenly stifling in the library? He resisted the urge to tug at his cravat.
“…now,” Jon continued, “you seem to have forgotten all about that. In fact, you seem to devote your time to championing her against my mother. Of course, that’s when you’re not taking her off for picnics and having whispered conversations with her. You seem — preoccupied. You even seem to have forgotten your interest in my father’s actions. And I have never known you to lose interest in a mystery that needs solving. Unless, of course, you find something else to be interested in.”
To look away now would show fear or guilt, Andrew reminded himself fiercely, cursing his cravat and Jonathan’s keen mind to perdition.
How was he to respond?
“Actually, Jonathan old friend, now that you mention it, I have been seducing your cousin, and I think I am falling desperately in love with her. Please don’t shoot me.”
Somehow, Andrew didn’t think the conversation would go well after such a confession.
“Well?” Jonathan prompted when Andrew fai
led to respond.
“Well what?”
Jonathan frowned, swallowed the rest of the contents of his glass, and returned it to the silver tray holding the decanter before turning and looking Andrew square in the eye.
“I’m going to ask you straight out, since you won’t tell me what you know I want to know.”
Andrew steeled himself for the question, and for what he would have to do: lie to his best friend, something they both swore would never happen.
“Go ahead,” he said, awaiting the inevitable.
“What is going on between you and my cousin?”
And there it was. The question that would unravel the years of friendship between them.
Andrew had a choice. He could tell Jonathan everything that had happened, trusting in the other man’s innate sense of good. Jonathan could even help bring his father to justice, though it would no doubt be difficult for him.
It was temping, Andrew had to admit, so tempting to enlist Jonathan’s help.
But — he couldn’t do it.
He’d promised Eve, and the more he got to know her, the more he realised what an honour it had been to be taken into her confidence to begin with.
The girl had gotten shot for wanting to keep this whole debacle a secret. He wasn’t about to ruin what was building between them for the sake of an easier life with Jon.
So, drawing on all the skills he’d developed over the years, Andrew schooled his features into his usual mask of indifference with a hint of humour and raised a brow.
“I’m sorry. Did you just ask me if there is something going on between me and your little church-mouse cousin?” he asked now, injecting his tone with as much incredulity as he could manage past the feelings of guilt roiling in his stomach.
“A church mouse that you seem to have taken an inordinate amount of interest in, Ashdon.”
Jonathan’s tone spoke volumes. He didn’t believe Andrew.
“For God’s sake, man,” Andrew continued. “You warned me to stay away from Anna, a true beauty, since she’s now attached. Now you suspect me for showing some attention to your poor little cousin. She’s not my usual type, but she is still female, and her company is preferable to none at all. Would you rather I’d ignored her?”
“Watch yourself, Ashdon. She is still my cousin, and I won’t have you disparaging her.”
“Oh, come now, man. You know I mean no harm. I quite like the girl. But do you honestly think there’s an attraction there?”
Jonathan seemed to think on his words, staring silently at him for some moments before finally giving a little self-deprecating laugh.
“You’re right. Of course. I have seen enough of your type of woman to know my suspicions are unfounded. Evie is far too good for your particular preferences. My apologies.”
“No apology necessary,” he said, feeling like an utter heel.
“No, I should have known you would never— Well, you might not think much of her, but there have been plenty of unworthy men who have found my cousin rather more than a little attractive.”
Andrew clenched his fists as a raging jealousy flared up. He wanted to kill anyone who’d even looked at Eve. Which was ridiculous, of course.
“Anyway, I am glad to see she is spending time enjoying herself, and now I know I have nothing to worry about, I am glad it’s with you.”
Jonathan offered another drink, and Andrew readily accepted, though he was conscious that time was ticking. He felt a surge of relief that he’d thrown Jon off the scent but couldn’t shake off the gnawing guilt at his words about Eve.
Forgive me, my love, he silently begged. He was so grateful that she hadn’t arrived yet. Perhaps she had fallen asleep. He would prefer it if she had; he didn’t want her hearing any of this.
And he didn’t particularly want her searching her uncle’s things with him in any case. The further she stayed away from any danger or risk of being caught the better.
Jonathan left shortly thereafter, and Evelyn still hadn’t arrived.
Another glance at the clock told Andrew that she was unlikely to appear tonight.
He made a thorough search of the study, picking locked drawers and searching behind picture frames.
Nothing.
Releasing a soft oath of frustration, Andrew gave it up as a bad job and, distinguishing the candles as he went, left the room and took himself off to bed.
Tomorrow he would speak to Eve, and they could figure out what to do next.
The silver lining was that it gave him an excuse to whisk her off somewhere again, and he would never complain about that.
Evelyn managed to hold on to her tears all the way back to her bedchamber, lest she should make a noise and draw the attention of Andrew and her cousin.
Andrew’s words kept a steady, torturous beat through her mind. “I quite like the girl. But do you honestly think there’s an attraction there? I quite like the girl. But do you honestly think there’s an attraction there? I quite like the girl. But do you honestly think there’s an attraction there?”
Finally reaching her room, Evelyn resisted the urge to slam the door shut.
The tears came then, fast and steady, and Evelyn didn’t even try to stop them. How could she have been so foolish as to believe someone like him, a viscount, a rake, a debauched cad would really be interested in her? Would want to reform for her? She was a prized fool, and now she was a heartbroken one too.
Because she was so in love with him she thought her heart was in real danger of giving up altogether, rather than live with the pain.
How could she have been so taken in?
She had trusted him with her secrets, with her plans, with her heart.
And all this time he’d been toying with her because he’d been… bored?
The pain was crippling. Why had he made her love him if he was just going to break her heart?
She was mortified. Her innocence had led to her being utterly humiliated.
The tears were drying now, and her head was starting to throb.
There was nothing to be done tonight. She would do her best to sleep, and perhaps tomorrow when she awoke, this would all seem like a horrible dream.
Evelyn awoke the next morning to the sound of howling wind and rain battering the windows. It seemed fitting that the weather should reflect her mood so.
For last night hadn’t been a dream. It had been brutal, soul-destroying reality, and she had no choice but to face up to it and live with it.
In the quiet, dark hours of the night, Evelyn had felt crushed, filled with despair and disappointment. But now, with the storm raging both outside and within her, she was filled with a dark, furious anger, and she resolved not to allow this to stop her.
She would get revenge for her father, once and for all. And then, she would move away from here. Far away, where nobody knew her, where she could be happy, and where she wouldn’t be reminded of Ashdon every time she turned a corner.
Ringing for Molly, Evelyn decided to face the day head on.
Her arm no longer required bandages. Molly would notice the cut, of course, but it no longer looked like a gunshot wound, so Evelyn wasn’t terribly concerned about it.
“Good morning, Miss,” Molly said brightly as she bustled in, cup of chocolate in hand. “I declare, it’s been an age since you’ve rung for me to help you. I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
Molly’s smile and friendly chatter was just what Evelyn needed while she composed herself for the day ahead.
“Shocking weather, Miss. You’ll be wanting something warm.”
Evelyn allowed Molly to talk away; she never really needed an answer, and she sipped her chocolate as she gazed out of the window.
There wasn’t much to see except dull grey clouds and the rain lashing against the glass.
Oddly, she found it soothing as though the storm and she were kindred spirits.
“Gracious, Miss Evelyn. What have you done to your arm?”
“Oh, ‘tis nothi
ng Molly. I had a fall, that’s all.”
Molly frowned but thankfully didn’t question Evelyn any further as she shook out a dove-grey gown with light blue ribbon around the high waist and sleeves. It was a favourite of Evelyn’s, even though the colour didn’t really suit, and usually she wouldn’t have commented on it as a choice.
But this morning, she wanted something more. Something beautiful. So that when she faced Andrew and gave him the dismissal she was working on, she would at least look better than she felt. Mentally, Evelyn went through the collection of dresses that Anna had given her. Anna was usually very generous in sharing her clothes with Evelyn. And Evelyn had never been more thankful for that fact than right now.
“Molly, do you think you could prepare the primrose walking dress that Anna gave me?”
Molly looked at Evelyn in surprise before grinning widely.
“Of course, Miss. That is one of your prettiest. And the colour is just beautiful. I’m sure anyone who sees you in it will be terribly impressed.”
Evelyn looked sharply at Molly but the maid smiled innocently, too innocently, and left to have the gown pressed.
Evelyn didn’t want people thinking she was trying to impress Lord Ashdon, but she realised that was probably what everyone would think.
They would be right, but not for the reasons they imagined.
She wanted to impress him to show that she wasn’t the silly little girl he imagined she was, to whom he was so very charitable.
She was a grown woman who could do very well on her own and who, in fact, would have done just fine had he not interfered on that first fateful night.
The gall of the man, she fumed silently, to dismiss her as a church mouse when he knew what she really was. He’d bloody ruined everything, and he had the audacity to speak ill of her still.
Molly returned in the midst of Evelyn’s raving thoughts, and Evelyn was quickly dressed, her hair softly curled and decorated with a simple primrose band of ribbon. She didn’t want to look as though she was trying too hard, after all.
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