The day was really rather cold, so a wrap was necessary, and Evelyn plucked the white shawl from Molly’s hands and quickly made her way to the breakfast room.
She wanted to see him and get the difficult conversation out of the way as quickly as possible before she lost her nerve.
The hallways were dark and drafty, and Evelyn hurried through the house as quickly as she could.
She wasn’t sure how, on a day such as this, she would find the opportunity to speak alone to Andrew, or Lord Ashdon, as she must think of him from now on.
If it had been a nice day, she might have made the suggestion of taking the horses and riding to the ruins of an old Normal settlement not fair from Spencer Park. At least she might have done that before she knew what he really thought of her. Now, she would have to get used to being alone again, for the most part. The dull pain that had been ever-present since last night flared up again, but she ruthlessly pushed it away. She’d cried enough tears that he didn’t deserve. She’d be damned if she’d cry any more.
Entering the breakfast room, Evelyn was surprised to see Anna seated at the table so early.
“Good morning, dearest,” said Anna with a smile.
“Good morning. I am surprised to see you up so early,” Evelyn responded as she took a plate to the sideboard.
“I couldn’t sleep. Can you countenance this weather we’re having? I declare, at one point I was full sure the shutters would come off their hinges.”
“It is rather stormy,” Evelyn responded, returning to the table with her plate now filled with eggs, ham, and toast.
“I must say, Evie, you look exceptionally well this morning,” Anna said, studying Evelyn from across the table before her face creased in a knowing smile. “I am sure I can guess why.”
Evelyn did her level best to keep any sort of blush from her face.
She wouldn’t have minded Anna’s teasing yesterday. In fact, she would have rather enjoyed it, feeling as she did and suspecting that Andrew felt the same.
Now, however, it made her burn with embarrassment and cringe with despair.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Anna,” she said quietly.
“Oh, do not be so coy, Evie. Do you think I am blind?”
Evelyn studied her plate. Her appetite, which was small anyway, disappeared completely.
“I see how your eyes shine whenever they catch sight of our handsome Lord Ashdon,” Anna said with a smile.
Evelyn opened her mouth to deny Anna’s words. Listening to them was causing an almost physical ache.
“And as for the way he looks at you?” Anna fanned herself with her hand, grinning ear to ear. “My dear, at times I was worried he’d jump across the table and devour you whole. He’s infatuated with you.”
This time the ache was physical. A dull throbbing in the region where her heart should be. But since she felt like it had been ripped out, she couldn’t claim that it was still there.
“Anna, please.” Evelyn was struggling to speak past the sudden lump in her throat.
She was prevented from speaking further, however, by the arrival of Lord Ashdon himself, accompanying Jonathan.
“Lovely morning, is it not?” Jon called jovially as he moved straight to the sideboard and began stacking his plate with enough food to feed an army.
Andrew bid them both a good morning then went to do the same. Evelyn kept her head bowed throughout both gentlemen’s greetings, but she could feel Andrew’s eyes on her as surely as if she had looked up and caught his glance.
Had she always been this aware of him? Probably, she conceded. But that would all have to change now.
Jon and Anna chatted about the storm as the gentlemen filled their plates and sat at the table, Jonathan at the head and Andrew beside Evelyn.
It was an exquisite sort of torture having him so near and knowing he would never be hers.
She pointedly ignored Anna’s conspiratorial grin and kept her eyes firmly on the tablecloth adorning the table.
“You look particularly lovely this morning, Miss Spencer,” Andrew said, his velvet-soft voice warm and indulgent. Evelyn glanced up as he sat and tried not to feel anything at the obvious appreciation in his eyes.
“Yes, you do, Evie. Any particular reason?” Jonathan asked.
“No. None at all,” she answered with a tight smile before lifting her coffee cup and sipping so she wouldn’t have to speak again.
“Well, it certainly brightens the place up,” Jonathan continued with a grimace, looking out at the dismal weather. “Where is Mama?”
“She won’t surface for hours yet,” Anna answered, sounding thrilled about it. “When she knows she won’t have callers and certainly won’t be paying calls in this weather, she keeps to her room for ages.”
“I’m surprised to hear it,” Andrew said, “She doesn’t strike me as the type of lady to enjoy the solitude.”
There was an edge to his voice that told Evelyn he was more than likely referring to her aunt’s inability to stay away from gossip or news of any sort. And she would have turned and shared a secret smile with him before. But now, well now, she wouldn’t.
“She’s not,” Anna answered with a rueful smile. “In fact, I do not think it will be long before Evie and I are summoned to sit with her.”
“What a shame,” Andrew said, “I had hoped that Miss—“
Evelyn jumped from her chair, interrupting what she suspected would be a request for her to join him in some activity or another.
And she didn’t want to allow him the chance to ask. For much as she had wanted to confront him, she now found herself yearning to spend time alone with him just to be with him, and the thought made her furious.
Furious with him, furious with herself. So instead of her blazing confrontation, she would just have to settle for distancing herself from him without so much as a by-your-leave. She needed to get out of there.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Evelyn spoke quietly, glancing round at all three of them, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “I-I wanted to get some books from the library in case Aunt Millicent decides she wants me to read to her.”
As excuses went, it was a weak one. Aunt Millicent hardly ever bothered with reading and thought Evelyn nothing more than a bluestocking for enjoying the pastime so much.
Judging from Anna’s frown, her cousin knew it wasn’t very plausible either. Thankfully though, she didn’t say anything, and, without further ado, Evelyn swept from the room.
She was halfway out the door when she heard Jonathan, sounding bewildered, whispering to Anna.
“What’s the matter with Evie?”
Evelyn was about to continue on, but something stopped her.
Her whole life, well… since she’d been ten at least, her cousins had treated her as a quiet little simpleton, never seeming to notice that she’d grown into a woman. They had never meant anything bad by it, of course. In point of fact, they were the only people who had stopped her from sinking to a dark depression in those early years.
But still, she wasn’t that little girl anymore, and they needed to know that.
Her aunt and uncle had been either neglectful or abusive, with no real in between, and that would never change.
And now the man she loved? Well, he thought her nothing more than a mildly amusing plaything.
Suddenly, it was too much.
Spinning back into the room, she marched over and stood at Jonathan’s chair, her palms clammy, her heartbeat going wild, but nonetheless she was determined to assert herself as more than what they’d made her.
“Jonathan,” she squeaked. Yes, after weeks of her confidence building, the squeak had returned. “There is nothing the matter with me. I am going to get a book, that is all.”
Jonathan raised his brows in surprise, and Evelyn felt awash with guilt. What had Jon ever done except look after her where he could? But she wasn’t a child. Or a mouse. She didn’t need looking after.
“All right, Evie. I was just wondering, little
one.” He smiled, reaching over and patting her hand.
Oh, what was the point? He would still pat her hand and think of her as little one no matter what she did.
She could confess that she had managed to be a highway robber, but, of course, that was foolish in the extreme for several reasons.
“Well — good,” she said meekly instead, and, as if of their own volition, her eyes dashed to Andrew’s face, which was a picture of confusion and even concern.
Ha! He was no more concerned about her than he was Uncle Geoffrey.
And that reminder straightened her backbone again a little. She wouldn’t be mistreated by the men in her life any longer.
“And, please, do not call me Evie any longer. It makes me sound like a child. And — and I’m not a child, Jonathan.”
If Evelyn had dropped a pin at that moment, the sound would have echoed round the room, so silent were the other occupants.
Jonathan’s mouth had dropped open, but then he suddenly smiled and nodded his head in what looked very much like a gesture of respect.
Evelyn felt empowered and relieved all at once, and she smiled warmly in response.
This time when she turned to leave the room, there was a spring in her step.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Andrew watched Evelyn march from the room, regal as a queen, head held high.
Much as he was proud of her for showing her family that she was a proud, independent woman, he was concerned by the change in her.
She hadn’t shown last night, and, at the time, he’d been glad of it since he’d assumed she was getting some sleep. And given that his search had once again been fruitless, he had been happy to conduct it alone.
But now she was acting strangely, avoiding eye contact with him just like she had when they’d first met.
He wondered if she were ill, but she didn’t look it. In fact, she looked the best he’d ever seen her; a ray of sunshine on such a gloomy day, and his body had reacted immediately as it always did.
He wondered again if he should have just confessed his real feelings to Jonathan last night instead of trying to keep it a secret. Had he told Jonathan that he loved Evelyn and wanted to marry her he could have at least been more attentive to her this morning without drawing curious glances or murderous weapons.
As it was, he had been unable to question her odd behaviour and unable to do anything except watch her leave when he wanted nothing more than to keep her close.
The silence she had left in her wake was broken by Anna.
“Well,” she said sounding, both shocked and amused, “whatever has happened to our little Evie?”
Jonathan grinned in response.
“Evelyn, Anna. Her name is Evelyn.”
“Wasn’t she marvellous?” Anna said. “I never thought she had it in her.”
“Nor me,” said Jon with a smile. “I do wonder at the change in her though.”
So do I, Andrew thought.
Something was definitely off, and, suddenly, he couldn’t wait any longer to find out what.
“If you’ll excuse me,” he said, standing and not waiting for a reply before dashing from the room.
Jonathan frowned and turned to Anna to see his sister grinning like a Cheshire cat. “What has gotten into him?” he said.
Anna lifted her cup and took a sip before answering. “The same thing that’s gotten into our Evelyn, no doubt.”
“What do you mean?”
Anna rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her rapidly cooling food.
“Men,” she said, and that was the last thing she would say on the subject.
She was as bloody confounding as the rest of her sex, Jonathan decided.
“Women,” he grumbled and set about demolishing his own plate of food.
Andrew found Evelyn in the library perusing books, just as she had said she would be.
He moved to greet her but was stopped in his tracks by the expression on her face.
She looked… sad. There really was no other word for it, so sad it made his heart hurt.
Instead of rushing to her and pulling her into his arms like he wanted to, he took a tentative step forward.
“Eve,” he said softly and watched her shoulders stiffen.
What on earth was going on?
He waited while she turned slowly toward him.
“My lord,” she said woodenly, even dipping into a short curtsy.
What the hell was that?
“My lord?” he repeated incredulously. “What’s going on?”
He watched as the hint of a blush stained her cheeks, and her eyes glittered furiously, either with anger or tears.
“I am choosing some books for my aunt, just as I said I would be.”
Anger, definitely. Her tone could freeze a desert.
“Eve,” he started, coming toward her.
“I-I’d rather you didn’t address me by my Christian name, my lord. It really isn’t appropriate.”
Andrew was surprised by the jolt of pain he felt at her obvious attempts to distance them from each other. The pain, however, was quickly replaced with his own anger.
“I don’t give a damn what’s appropriate or not,” he fumed, marching over until he was inches from her. “I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s going on here, Eve, so you’re going to have to explain it to me.”
She opened her mouth as if to say something before snapping it shut again and brushing past him.
“Nothing is going on,” she finally said, all of her focus on the bookshelf in front of her. She was pulling books from the shelf as though her life depended on it, not even glancing at the titles.
After a few moments, her pile of books resembled the tower of Pisa, and she showed no sign of stopping.
“Does your aunt know you intend to move the library to her bedchamber?” he quipped, hoping to break the tension emanating from her.
Apparently, it had been the wrong thing to say.
Evelyn swung to face him and slammed the book she held in her hand onto the table with a loud thud.
“Can you please just leave me alone?” she screeched, and it sounded more like a demand than a request.
Andrew was confused and more than a little concerned that something had happened between yesterday when everything had been so glorious between them and now, when it seemed as if something was very, very wrong. But what?
“Eve, wha—“
“Don’t call me that!” she screeched once more, and he was tempted to cover his ears, but he didn’t think that would be terribly conducive to calming the situation.
“Of course, if that is what you wish,” he said, holding his hands up in what he hoped was a placating manner. “But, please — I’m worried about you.”
She laughed, but there was no humour in it, and glared at him scornfully.
“You can cease the pretence, my lord. We both know you don’t give a damn about me.”
Suddenly, Andrew’s own temper flared.
“What the hell does that mean?” he growled. “You know I give a damn about you. More than give a damn about you. I-I—“
“’She’s not my usual type, but she is still female, and her company is preferable to none at all.’”
Andrew’s intended declaration turned to dust in his mouth as she flung the words he’d spoken to Jonathan last night at him.
His stomach dropped to his Hessians. She’d heard.
Scraping a hand through his hair he muttered some of his favourite oaths before attempting an explanation.
“All right. Eve, I know how it must seem but you—“
She cut him off again, using his own words as a lance to wound him, and wound him they did.
“I quite like the girl. But do you honestly think there’s an attraction there? And my name is Evelyn,” she sneered.
The pain in her expression hurt him more than if she had taken a knife to his heart.
“Sweetheart, please—“
“I am not your s
weetheart,” she said through clenched teeth, and he was horrified when a single tear spilled from her eye and rolled down her cheek.
Andrew had been shot twice in the leg during a mission to Belgium, and he’d thought that the most painful experience of his life, but nothing could have prepared him for the pain of seeing her cry and knowing he’d caused it.
“Eve, I’m sorry. So sorry. But, you don’t understand—“
“I understand perfectly,” she interrupted icily.
“No,” he practically shouted at her, “no, you don’t.”
He reached out and clasped her shoulders, desperate for her to listen, to believe him.
“Eve, I love you.”
She froze as his words seemed to echo between them.
Please believe me, he begged silently.
He watched, not daring to breathe as she closed her eyes and lowered her head.
After what seemed like an eternity, she lifted her face once more to look at him.
Her expression, he noted with trepidation, wasn’t the look of joy he would have wanted.
“You’re a liar,” she said, disdain dripping from every word. “And you are cruel.”
Every word was like a slap to the face.
“To you I may be nothing more than a diversion in the boring countryside, my lord, but I am a person with feelings, and you cannot treat people this way.”
She started to cry again, and every tear that fell from her eyes caused him agony.
“I swear to you, my darling, I am not lying. I love you.” He shook her slightly, willing her to believe him, to forgive him, to forget that bloody conversation she was never supposed to hear.
“Stop saying that!” she yelled, pulling herself from his grip.
And though it killed him, he had to let her go.
“I don’t even know if I can trust you to keep my secret,” she said quietly.
He swallowed hard before answering. “Of course you can,” he managed.
She didn’t respond, merely nodded her head and turned to leave. She didn’t take a single book.
He watched helpless as she reached the door then stopped and turned to face him again.
“It seems so unfair,” she said so softly that he had to strain to hear her.
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