Jonathan seemed to be working on Andrew’s injury, still calling instructions as he went, and Evelyn could do nothing but slink into the background and cry and pray with all her might that the man she loved would once again open his eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The day dawned bright and cold, and with it came the first frost of the year.
Evelyn took a moment to enjoy the simple beauty of pure, untouched snow. It seemed to herald a new beginning. Something they all desperately needed. Things at the house had been more than a little strained for the past few weeks.
Jonathan had been a Godsend and had taken over the running of the estate with aplomb. He and Evelyn had had a very frank discussion about what exactly her uncle had done.
There was some money left in her trust, but not, he’d admitted, a lot.
Jonathan’s plan had been to sell the estate and use the proceeds to restore Evelyn’s trust fund, but Evelyn refused point-blank to allow him to do so.
This had been her home, she reminded him, though at times not a happy one. More than that, it was his and Anna’s home too, and now that Anna was a widow, since hearing that Mr. Grant had taken his own life rather than spend the remainder of it in Newgate, she desperately needed to be with her family. She needed to be somewhere familiar and comforting. Lord knew, if news of Grant’s suicide broke, she would need all the comfort she could get.
Aunt Millicent had taken to her rooms and wouldn’t come out for God nor man, admitting visitors sporadically and spending most of her time wailing and bemoaning her lot in life.
Much as Evelyn felt nothing but mild irritation for her aunt, she had no desire to take the woman’s house.
Finally, she and Jonathan had settled things. So long as she could still call Spencer Park her home, she didn’t want to actually own any part of it, and, though her trust would no longer be enough to live comfortably on, it was more than a lot of people had, and she would be grateful for it.
Every day things were becoming less awkward between them all, and Evelyn was confident that, in time, she and her cousins would be able to move on from the past and enjoy their lives again.
Evelyn dressed quickly, not bothering to wait for Molly, and rushed out the door and down the corridor to a room that was becoming as familiar to her as her own.
Knocking softly, she waited for permission to enter before darting into the room.
She grinned widely at the sight that met her.
Andrew was not only awake, but he was sitting up and looking adorably grumpy.
“Good morning,” Evelyn greeted him, coming forward to take her usual chair.
For the past three weeks, she had sat in this exact chair from sun up until sun down, only coming downstairs for meals and, in the first few days, to give various statements to the mysterious friends of Andrew and Jonathan who had arrived the day after Andrew had been shot.
These were presumably the friends that Andrew had been on his way to see, but whenever she questioned Jonathan about them, he fobbed her off, and, for the first couple of weeks, Andrew hadn’t been well enough to ask him anything.
Evelyn still got panicky when she thought of how injured he’d been.
The bullet that had pierced his skin, just under his right rib, had stayed buried in his body, and it had taken all the skills that the local surgeon possessed to remove it safely.
Then there’d been the fever which had followed, the delirium, the scorching temperature, the cold sweats.
Evelyn hadn’t slept a wink in those first few days.
Mercifully though, his temperature had finally broken, and, since then, every day he’d been growing a little stronger.
She ran her eyes over his face, his torso, trying as she always did to remain detached as she took in the bulging muscles of his arms, the whipcord, sinewy muscles of his chest and abdomen.
He’d insisted on having his chest bare and the coverlet pulled down, claiming that it aggravated his wound to be otherwise. But Evelyn suspected that he just enjoyed her discomfort and confusion when she saw him thus.
“Is it a good morning?” he answered now, holding out a hand and pulling her toward him. “I wouldn’t know since I’m cooped up here, yet again.”
Evelyn sighed as she pushed an errant black-as-night lock back from his brow.
“You really are a dreadful patient,” she said, not for the first time. “Hasn’t Doctor Carver told you that you will be up and about soon? But you mustn’t rush it.”
“It’s driving me mad, my love. What I wouldn’t give to be able to drag you into my arms and show you how much I miss being alone with you.”
Evelyn’s cheeks heated at his words, but she remained piously in control of herself.
“We are alone now, are we not?”
“Yes, we are. And every time I get the urge to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you, we get bloody well interrupted.”
Evelyn grinned at his petulant tone.
“Such is the fate of a man who knocked upon death’s door.”
“Well, if that is the case, then I am more than happy with my decision to never do anything remotely dangerous again.”
Evelyn raised a brow. Her heart soared to hear his words, but she couldn’t be sure he meant them.
“Truly? You will no longer travel around Europe with Jonathan, getting into those scrapes you refuse to give details about?”
Andrew gave her a curious look.
“Well, of course not. Obviously.”
“Obviously?” she repeated.
He frowned at her before answering, his words slow and careful as though he were gauging her reaction.
“I did not think my wife would appreciate me leaving her alone whilst I hightailed it to Europe every few weeks,” he said quietly. “Besides, I would have absolutely no desire to leave her.”
Evelyn’s heart was pounding erratically, but she dared not hope that his words meant what she thought they meant.
Striving to make light of the situation, lest she was completely misinterpreting the conversation, she laughed softly before responding.
“I had no idea you had a wife, Andrew.”
He looked totally perplexed for a moment before that slow, delicious smile of his made an appearance.
“Well, I don’t, as it happens. Not yet in any case.”
“Oh?” was all she could manage.
“I do plan on having one soon, of course,” he continued. “It’s only just dawned on me that whilst I’ve been making grand plans in my head, I haven’t actually asked her yet.”
Evelyn had to swallow past the lump in her throat before she felt she could answer.
“Then you do have someone in mind for the position?” she asked, her voice squeaking.
Andrew noticed it too, for his grin widened.
“I haven’t heard that squeak in your voice since you robbed me, my darling,” he said softly.
He reached out a hand and pulled her from her chair to sit on the bed beside him.
His warm body was pressed against her side, and Evelyn felt she could actually perish from wanting him.
If he didn’t hurry, she’d end up proposing herself.
“I never actually robbed you,” she argued. “I took nothing belonging to you.”
“Oh, but you did, my love. You took my heart and my soul, every last bit of them.”
Evelyn felt her eyes fill with tears at his wonderful words.
“I love you so much, Eve.”
“I love you too,” she whispered.
“You will marry me, won’t you?” he asked, softly reaching up and cupping her neck, then slowly pulling her head down toward his own.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She sighed before her lips finally met his.
Andrew had been right in that, as soon as he kissed her, a maid came bustling into the room with a breakfast tray.
One look at the occupants, however, had her scurrying back downstairs, and the savvy housekeeper gave word that the viscoun
t wasn’t to be disturbed again until he called for someone.
He didn’t call for anyone, of course. He had everything he’d ever needed right there in his arms.
EPILOGUE
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, I hate these things,” Andrew grumbled as he nursed a tumbler of brandy and scowled at the dancers swirling by him.
“Even when it’s in your honour?” Jonathan quipped.
“Especially then,” Andrew retorted. “I should have known my mother would find a way to punish us for having a quiet wedding.”
It was six months since his marriage to Eve, and it had been the most glorious of his life.
They had been married at Spencer Park as soon as Andrew had been well enough to stand for the entirety of the vows.
It wouldn’t have been right to have an elaborate celebration with everything that had gone on and with Anna in mourning. But Evelyn wouldn’t have been happy to get married without Anna present, and Andrew sure as hell wouldn’t have been happy to wait.
So the compromise was that they exchanged their vows with only Anna and Jonathan there, and it had been perfect.
This wedding celebration was his mother’s doing. Evelyn had felt unable to refuse since the countess had gone into hysterics about missing her son’s wedding and made Eve feel guilty for no reason.
Andrew had hoped to convince his mother of the impropriety of not waiting for the full twelve months of mourning, but when news broke of Peter Grant’s sins, all bets were off, and his mother approached the party with gusto.
He watched Eve now and felt his mood improving and his expression softening into a smile. She was still the most beautiful woman in any room.
Everyone was flocking toward her, dying for an audience with the new viscountess.
Thankfully, they’d all managed to keep the circumstances of Mr. Grant’s demise under wraps and, through Andrew’s connections, were even able to keep Mr. Spencer’s new accommodations at Newgate a secret, at least for now.
Not that Andrew cared whether people knew or not. It wouldn’t change the way he felt about Eve. It wouldn’t change how proud he was to call himself her husband. But he knew how unforgiving the ton was, and he had no desire to cause any distress for his beautiful bride.
As he watched, she threw back her head and laughed at something her companion said, and he felt the familiar stirring of lust heat his blood.
“Right,” he said, downing his drink at once. “We’ve stayed long enough.”
“Well, if you’re leaving, then I am too,” said Jonathan in response.
Andrew must not have hid his horror as well as he’d thought, for Jonathan laughed and slapped him on the back.
“Don’t worry, I don’t mean leave with you. I can’t think of anything worse than being stuck with you and Evelyn making moon eyes at each other,” he quipped with a shudder. “But I’ve done my duty. I’m off to get foxed at the club before I set off to pastures new.”
Andrew raised a sardonic brow.
“I still say you won’t last a week without me. We all know I was the intelligent one.”
“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” Jonathan grinned in response.
The two men shook hands and then went their separate way: Jonathan to the next assignment and Andrew to his wife.
His wife.
The words still gave him a thrill.
He couldn’t quite believe he’d once thought that giving up his work for the Crown and settling into a quiet existence as lord and master of his estates would be the end of all of his adventures.
He now knew, without a doubt, that with Evelyn by his side, he was about to embark on the greatest adventure of his life.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nadine Millard is a writer hailing from Dublin, Ireland. Although she'll write anything that pops into her head, her heart belongs to Regency Romance.
When she's not immersing herself in the 1800s, she's spending time with her husband, her three children, and her very spoiled Samoyed. She can usually be found either writing or reading and drinking way too much coffee.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Firstly and very importantly, I need to thank all of my readers. You guys are the reason I do what I love to do and I hope we can continue to enjoy these stories together for a long time to come.
Thank you to my amazing husband and children, and my family and friends for your ongoing love and support. I love you all.
To my editors, beta readers, cover artist and everyone else at Blue Tulip Publishing, you guys rock! Every day you make me a better writer than I ever thought possible.
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