A Question of Love

by Angeline Fortin

  “MacKintosh didn't tell me any of that.”

  “He doesn't have to. He's got her. Now the question is what is he going to do with her if she won’t marry him?”

  “Just give her a fair go, I would imagine.”

  Abby gave her brother a disgusted look. “Jack Merrill, I will thank you not to refer to my very good friend in such a manner. Evelyn is not the cold, calculating woman you think her to be. She loves Francis, completely. Oh, pooh, she may not have admitted it yet, but it’s there! And this! This situation here cannot do anything but seriously hurt her.”

  “How do you figure that?" he wanted to know. “MacKintosh’ll kick Nessa out soon enough and then he and Lady Shaftesbury can carry on as they will.”

  “Except that Nessa is refusing to leave town and my brother will soon have a bloody hard time hiding it from Evelyn,” Richard said. His brother had yet been unable to bribe the woman into leaving town once more. In fact, Vanessa currently had Francis cornered in the library just across the hall after she had shown up at his door again this morning with baggage in hand once and looking as if she intended to settle in for good. “It’s as if his damned ex-wife could sense that something was going on and had to be here to ruin it,” Richard felt that truth in the core of his being. The woman has always had a nose for trouble, sniffed out Francis’ budding happiness and come to nip it straight away.

  “He’ll get her to leave,” Jack waved away the problem dismissively.

  “I hope so,” the younger MacKintosh winced. “He hasn’t been able to buy her off yet. I believe that the current offer is ten thousand.”

  “If I get rid of her for him,” Jack pondered with a grin, “maybe he’ll give me the money.”

  “Lovely, Jack,” Abby snorted with some disgust. “You always know how to sniff out a pound. If he slips and tells her that he plans to remarry, there will be hell to pay.”

  “If he weds the countess and gets it done there won’t be much for Nessa to say, will there?

  Godfrey entered the room nervously. “Lady MacKintosh,” he addressed Abby, “there is a small problem. Lady Shaftesbury has arrived.”

  “Eve is here? Oh dear.” Abby shared a speaking glance with her husband and brother. “This is atrocious timing.”

  “She is asking to see Lord Glenrothes,” Godfrey explained nervously. “Err, what shall I tell her as my lord is currently occupied?”

  “We will go to her, Godfrey,” Abby decided. “Where have you put her?”

  “The morning room, my lady.”

  Evelyn arrived at the Glenrothes’ townhouse that morning, breaking a major rule of etiquette to do it. Calling on a gentleman by herself in broad daylight without even a maid or groom to accompany her all because Francis had not shown up to take her riding as he had promised. She had waited nearly an hour before she had begun to worry and had spent a portion of the next debating whether it would be outside of enough to show up personally at his home. Surprisingly, the daring option had won out. If she were not so occupied with being horrified by her audaciousness, it might have felt good.

  The door to the morning room opened and, to her surprise, Abby and Richard came in. “Abby! Whatever are you doing here? I had thought you were in the nursery with the girls.”

  “I…well, I was Eve, but I…uhh,” her eyes darted to the closed doors of the library across the hall. “We came over to…uh, speak with Jack. Yes, that’s it.”

  “Evelyn.” Richard shifted from foot to foot stalling for time and wincing over his wife’s poor acting skills. Their trio’s task the past several days had been to keep Eve from finding out about Francis’ current predicament. Unless he missed his guess, they were about to fail miserably. “What are you doing here?”

  “Franc…uh, Lord Glenrothes was supposed to ride with me in the park this morning.” She added this last with a flush of embarrassment. It was one thing to break a rule with a fair amount of secrecy and quite another to fully acknowledge it in open company. “When he was late I began to worry and thought I would come myself to see if anything was amiss. Is there anything amiss?”

  “Evelyn, my darling,” Jack swept in to her side and raised her hand to his lips. “Have you finally come to realize the error of your ways and know that a marriage to me is the path to your future happiness?” He made a dramatic bow and presses a hand to his chest. “For what other reason could you have for being here today? You have made me the happiest…”

  “Oh, shut it, Haddington,” Eve muttered as she yanked her hand away from him. “I have truly had enough of your drama to last my lifetime. I have come to speak to Lord Glenrothes.”

  “My lady, I am shocked,” Jack stated melodramatically. “When I think that I have been thrown over for my closest friend…”

  “Oh, shut it Jack,” Abby resounded pushing him aside. “Eve, come sit down.”

  Eve allowed herself to be solemnly led to the settee and sat while the others all made themselves slowly comfortable. Too slowly. “Shall I ring for tea?” Abby asked.

  “Well, this can’t be good,” Eve tried to joke. Their night together the previous evening had been beyond anything Eve had ever imagined possible and she had thought that Francis felt the same way but, in the face of her friends’ troubled glances this morning, she was starting to rethink the whole thing. What if it hadn’t been the same for Francis? What if he’d had enough of her and was simply trying to avoid her this morning? What if her friends knew and were merely trying to spare her feelings? A shudder of dread shot through her. “You are acting very strange. Is something wrong? Is Francis alright?”

  “I doubt it,” Jack murmured under his breath but loud enough for Eve to hear.

  “What is going on?”

  “Well, I…bloody hell,” Richard muttered using one of his wife's favorite expletives and feeling it summed up the situation fairly well. Richard unconsciously looked to the library again and Evelyn's eyes followed his. Something was obviously going on given the uncharacteristic nervous behaviors displayed by the trio. “What is wrong, Richard?”

  “Nothing's wrong, of course. My brother had a bit of unexpected business to take care of this morning. I’m sure he meant to send a note. Why don’t we all head on to Moray Place, yes? I’m sure Francis will attend us when he’s done here,” he rose to his feet.

  “Yes, indeed,” Abby seconded and Jack chimed in, “Jolly good idea. Let me escort you to the door.” He reached for her hand.

  Breaking away, Evelyn eyed him in confusion. Needing to find out what was going on. “You are all being ridiculous! I want to see Francis.”

  “He's really not available right now…”

  “Nonsense,” she pushed past him and strode to the library doors. Flinging them open she sailed into the room only to be brought up short with a gasp of surprise at the scene she beheld. There was Francis standing in the center of the room holding a woman in his arms. A million surprisingly violent emotions flowed through her but, in a breath, training and manners took over and she retained her poise. “A long-lost sister, my lord? A cousin perhaps?” she questioned coolly though her heart was twisting in agony over this apparent confirmation of her fears.

  “Eve! No, I…” he began moving toward her, the other woman grabbed his arm and pulled him back laughing in amusement.

  “I didn't think so.” Evelyn turned on her heel and fled the room darting past Richard and Jack. As she reached the door, she heard the woman's laughing voice. “Who was that, darling? One of your little tarts?”

  Evelyn slammed the front door behind her and leaned back against it taking a deep breath. What was that? her mind screamed for reason. Who was that? Surely, after the night they had spent together – a night which had wrung all strength from her – Francis couldn’t possibly already be turning to the arms of another woman!

  Her mind racing with questions and rampant conclusions, Eve fairly leapt onto Angel and spurred him into a gallop leaving the groom who had been holding him with a face full of dust.
<
br />   Francis glared at Vanessa as he heard the door slam. “You're the only tart I know,” he answered tersely and flung her at Richard as she laughed. “Take care of her. I want her out of my house.”

  “But I'm your wife, darling,” Vanessa drawled with a low chuckle.

  “Ex-wife,” Francis ground out his mind already racing to Eve and the conclusions that must be charging through her mind. He needed to reach her quickly.

  “What do you want me to do with her?” Richard asked at the same time.

  “Do you think I care? Just get rid of her!” Francis grabbed his jacket and strode to the door in pursuit of Evelyn. His only thought was for her.

  As the door slammed again, Richard looked down at the woman he held. She looked back up at him with hot black eyes and leaned into him. Disgusted, Richard pushed her away.

  “What do you think, darling?” she fingered his chin and laughed as he jerked away. “The master is away and it is time to play. All these years, Richard. What a handsome man you have become.”

  “You are vile, Vanessa,” he stated bluntly.

  “I am good, Richard. Very good,” she trailed a finger down his chin but he pushed her away. “Come now, aren’t tired of your pale little wife yet? Wouldn’t you like to have a real woman?”

  “Oh, bloody hell,” Richard muttered holding her wrists in one hand and keeping her at an arm's length.

  “I would suggest that you keep your hands off my husband,” Abby’s frosty voice garnered the woman’s attention, “before I quite break your fingers myself.”

  “Touchy, touchy,” Vanessa sniffed and gazed up at Jack from under her lashes. “How about you, Jack? Feeling up for a spot of fun?”

  “Godfrey!” Jack bellowed grabbing the woman by the wrist and dragging along after him much to her amusement.

  The dour butler appeared momentarily. “Yes, my lord?”

  Jack pushed Vanessa at him wishing he could be amused by the shock on the old man’s face. “Take this and see that it finds itself and its belongings at other lodgings immediately.”

  The old butler wrinkled his brow distastefully. “Right away, my lord. Come along, my lady.”

  “I have every right to stay here!” she argued with a stomp of her foot.

  “Not while Glenrothes is the master here.” Richard grabbed up his own coat and headed for the door. “See it done, Godfrey.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Chapter 29

  “Of all the rotten timing,” Francis muttered as he rode after Eve down Prince’s Street toward Moray Place. The traffic was heavy and it had taken so long to get a horse saddled he was sure Eve was long gone.

  It had been a horrific morning thus far. After returning home from Eve’s bed in the early hours, Glenrothes awoke to the news that Vanessa had arrived once more with her baggage. He had met her with every ounce of aristocratic disdain he could summon, trying to bargain a price for Vanessa’s departure, without letting her know that he had more reason than ever to see her gone; without giving her ammunition to further ruin his life. She, in turn, had set up a tirade of protests before she had finally declared undying love for him and had flung herself at him just as Eve opened the door. Somehow he felt that there was no explanation that could cover the damage that moment had done. He should have told Eve the truth before, that Vanessa was back, that she was at his house. Instead, he had tried to cover it all up.

  And the look on her face! Before her cool social mask had descended, Francis had seen her shock and pain. Pain that he never would dream of causing her.

  Francis bound up the steps to his brother’s townhouse and entered without bothering to knock at all. “Evelyn!” he bellowed at the foyer.

  Hobbes moved in long strides to intercept him. “I am sorry, my lord, but Lady Shaftesbury is not receiving at present,” the butler intoned imperiously.

  Reaching the end of his tolerance for the old butler, Francis pointed a finger at the man. “Don’t even think of it, man! I have already had enough of you!”

  Moira emerged from the parlor and stared at him in disbelief. “Francis MacKintosh! Whatever is going on here? Are you responsible for the state Evie arrived in moments ago?”

  “She’s here then?” he asked in turn without bothering to answer the questions.

  Moira, who had been worried for the past five minutes over Evelyn’s tragic state, observed the same in the earl before her. His agitation and worry nearly matched Eve’s when she had stormed through, begging to be left alone. “You’ve hurt her.”

  “I love her. You know that.”

  “Then fix it!” He was halfway up the stairs as her final word came out. He would make it better. He had to! Moira couldn't stand seeing her friend so upset.

  Francis reached Evelyn’s bedroom door and rattled the handle only to find it locked. “Evelyn!” he yelled. “Evelyn, open the door!” He pounded on the hard wood. “Come on, paradise! It's not what you think! Not at all.” He spoke softly. “She not my mistress or anything like that. That was just Vanessa.”

  To his surprise, the door flung open and Evelyn stood before him, her eyes wide with disbelief and shooting sparks. “That was your wife? Well, thank goodness then! That makes me feel so much better.”

  Francis shrugged helplessly and failed to stop her as she slammed the door in his face and locked it again. He pounded on it again but failed even to rattle it. “What the hell is this thing made of?” He gave it one final fist. “Evelyn, come on! At least let me explain! Let me tell you the whole of it!”

  “The whole of it, that your wife is back in your home and arms?”

  “Ex-wife,” he ground out.

  “I should have known this would never work, Francis. It is beyond comprehension. As much as we would like, Francis,” she responded to him angrily, “life does not begin with ‘once upon a time’. Go home, before you ruin us both,” she whispered through the door.

  “My home is with you, sweet Eden.” His heart ached so badly that he thought he might die from it. He pressed his palm to it and felt the dull thudding, knowing that he was losing the love of his lifetime. His soul mate. His own soul felt as if it were being ripped out. She was pushing him neatly away, as he had long known she would. It was a convenient escape for her. An opportune excuse. “No! I refuse to accept this! Now open this damned door and talk to me!”

  “No.”

  “Damn it, Eve! Open this door or I’ll…”

  “Don’t do it, Francis,” she cut in. “Don’t be that man I was married to. After all this, do not think for one moment that you can tell me what to do or threaten me.”

  “I was not trying to…”

  “Yes, you were. It’s the constitution of the male nature to think that the way they want things to be is the right way, the only way. Well, I have a right to have some things go my way as well. So please leave me alone.” Leaning back against the door, she could feel him on the other side. Actually feel him. The pain in her tightened chest brought tears to her eyes. In becoming Francis’ lover, Eve had taken a monumental leap forward, doing something merely for herself. It had taken a courage and disregard for the rules that might have crippled her a year ago. Indeed, if William were alive she would have been crucified. She felt she should be appalled for ever considering it. She should have known it wouldn’t work out. But still.

  Francis could hear her heartfelt sigh through the door. “This is madness, Francis. I should never have let it go so far. But you…”

  He could hear the hesitation, the emotion in her voice. “I what, Eden?”

  “You make me want things I know I can’t have.”

  “You can, Eden. We can!”

  “A part of me wanted to think so, but this! See how easily you can tear me up when you have made me so happy these past weeks.” She shook her head against the door. “You shouldn’t be able to do that to me. You shouldn’t have that power. Just the sight of you two…”

  “Forget that, think of us,” he insisted. “Everything y
ou think I do to you, you do to me tenfold. You make me incredibly happy with every moment we spend together,” he assured her. “Happier than I have been in many, many years.”

  How could that not be true, Eve thought. She had heard enough tales of the misery his cheating wife had wrought over the years, the bitterness her behaviors had left in him. The divorce had freed him of her legally but had left scandal and social ruin for his family, which they were only just starting to conquer. Any happiness had to be greater than that.

  “You make me happy as well,” she admitted at length, before adding hesitantly, “I think… Abby says that we do it to each other.”

  “I’ve known that from the beginning, my love. We were meant for each other. I truly believe that and you know it as well. Now open the damn door,” he commanded roughly. “Not because I’m telling you to but because you want to.” The pause that ensued was so long, Francis thought his chest might burst with anxiety and anticipation. He fought his own instincts to force her to give in, but realized he would never come out the winner in that scenario. It had to be her choice. Hopefully, it would be the right one.

  After a long, agonizing minute, Eve cracked the door open. Before her, down on his knee, was her handsome Scotsman. He held aloft a golden ring with a large diamond flanked by citrine. “You would make me even happier if you agreed to be my wife.” His softly spoken words held a wealth of emotion. “My Eden, sweet paradise, will you marry me?”

  Elation filled Eve’s mind and heart, pushing aside the pain and confusion of the past hour as Francis held the ring out to her. He had asked her to marry him! Never, after hearing the stories of his marriage, had she ever dreamed he would enter into such a relationship again. Indeed, her friends had assured her that it was highly unlikely! But for her, he would dare to make the commitment once more. For her! Oh, her incredible man!

  “Oh, Francis,” she sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood. He squeezed her tightly and nuzzled her neck.