A Duke For Lady Eve (Belles 0f Christmas Book 5)

by Kasey Stockton

  “What of the Hollingsfords?” Evelyn asked. She did not hold a strong acquaintance with the family, but surely with their affluence they would be in a position to help. “Do they have a cottage available on their land?”

  Julia’s eyes hardened. “Jared went to them and they refused. He would not divulge the particulars to me, but suffice it to say this sort of charity is beneath them.”

  “How they will be comfortable sitting in church with that sort of opinion goes beyond my comprehension,” Evelyn said. “Very well. I shall do what I can. Allow me to find my father and I shall contrive a plan. Where might I find you?”

  “The vicarage.”

  Julia’s shoes clicked away and Evelyn waited for the front door to close before she sank onto a spindle back chair against the wall and leaned her elbow on a decorative table. Her mind worked around the problem until she determined to approach her father and ask his opinion. He was resourceful, after all, and would do what he could to help the family, surely.

  Even if they did not have funds to hire the family as servants, surely their charity could extend to assisting them until they developed a more permanent plan.

  She approached the library, opening the door and stepping inside. “Father, there is trouble at the vicarage and I am afraid I cannot conceive of an appropriate—”

  She halted on the rug as she came around the chairs and her eyes caught the familiar dark gaze of the duke.

  Alverton.

  But what was he doing in her library? And with her father, no less.

  “What is it, dear?” Father asked, his white eyebrows drawn together in concern, completely unaware of the underlying currents traveling between Alverton and Evelyn.

  Evelyn’s throat had gone dry. She tried to swallow but her throat felt much like sand. Pulling her gaze away from Alverton’s serious, brown eyes and training it on her father, she said, “A family has arrived in town with nothing and nowhere to go. Mr. Hart is keeping them until they can find a permanent solution. It seems they’ve come anticipating the Jacobsens’ welcome and did not realize that the family had moved away.”

  “The Jacobsens left quite some time ago,” Father said. “And I do not know how we can be of any help now. Have you spoken to Mrs. Bosch?”

  The housekeeper? “No,” Evelyn said. “I came straight to you, Father. The mother is in a delicate condition and it would behoove us, I think, to find a way to assist them.”

  Father turned to Alverton, a boyish grin developing on his face. “Is this not what we were just discussing, your grace? It is my duty as a member of this parish to assist those within my boundaries who require help.”

  “Yes, but this family hardly counts. They only just arrived.” His low voice sent a shiver down Evelyn’s spine. She had missed the sound of his voice the last few days and it was all she could do to remain composed. But then he turned his serious gaze on her and a blush rushed to her cheeks. Alverton continued, “You have no way to verify the truth of their claims. How can you be certain they are not simply taking advantage of you?”

  His underlying meaning cut through her and she wanted to run from the room. Lifting her chin, she remained, her gaze refusing to leave the duke’s.

  “Should that matter?” Father said. “If we make the choice to help, then we shall walk away with integrity, regardless of their choices. They are the ones, if indeed they are being dishonest, who shall have to live with themselves.”

  Evelyn could see the men falling back into conversation and found the opportunity to escape. It would be pointless to attempt to accomplish anything now. Father was right; she ought to discuss the issue with their housekeeper. She turned away, making it to the door before her name was called, effectively stopping her.

  “Miss Trainor.”

  She turned to find Alverton standing beside the chair he’d previously been occupying, his gaze fixed on her.

  “Yes, your grace?”

  He cleared his throat, his gaze darting to her father then landing back on her. “Might I request your presence for a walk in the garden?”

  How did one respectfully deny a duke? She glanced to the window and the cold, icy world beyond. He must have required privacy if he was willing to endure a walk in the frigid garden.

  “I planned to walk to Derham, your grace. But I must speak to my housekeeper first. I can meet you in the garden in a quarter of an hour, if you’d like to escort me as far as the road.”

  He nodded once succinctly and then lowered himself in his chair once more. And Evelyn escaped.

  Finding her cape and bonnet, she tied both of them securely before snatching her gloves from the table in her chamber and descending the stairs slowly. She found Mrs. Bosch and together determined that they could take on two servants for a short time while the family found a more permanent situation.

  Moving toward the front foyer, anticipation caused her hands to shake as she pulled her gloves on one finger at a time. She approached the door and waited.

  What was she thinking? She should not have accepted Alverton’s escort. His biting looks and angry words would do nothing to assist her at this time. She should go now, before he was able to escape Father’s political diatribe.

  Evelyn unlatched the door and the wind pushed it open and slammed it against the wall, wet snow diving indoors and chilling her at once.

  “Leaving already?” a deep voice said behind her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut before looking over her shoulder and finding Alverton’s gaze aimed at her. “Now I am, your grace.”

  She stepped outside, Alverton following close behind her, into the harsh weather. He pulled the door closed, gripping his coat in his hands to close it tighter around his neck.

  Clasping her hands firmly behind her back, Evelyn stepped away from the duke, allowing an appropriate amount of distance between them. She would do whatever she could to avoid having Alverton think she was vying for his attention.

  Of course, he was the one who came to her house.

  “I am surprised you are still here, your grace.”

  He kept his hands clasped behind his back as he walked beside her. Their progression was slow through the open valley as wind and snow blew against them.

  “I could not leave Sanders to entertain my family alone.”

  “And you chose not to escort your family to London instead and leave Lord Sanders in peace?”

  He paused, forcing Evelyn to stop and look over her shoulder at him.

  “In truth, I had not thought of that option.” A small smile graced his lips and he probably chuckled, but the sound was lost in the wind.

  He said something, his voice low, but she could not understand him.

  “I apologize, your grace,” Evelyn all but shouted, stepping nearer, “but I cannot hear in this wind.”

  His eyebrows pulled together, his head bending to look into her eyes. She was close enough to him now that the wind was largely blocked by his body and the sweet reprieve caused her heart to flutter.

  She could not deny it; she had feelings for the duke.

  “Come,” he said loudly, his hand slipping over hers. He pulled her toward the game trail in Sanders Grove and the moment they stepped within the woods the wind quieted, the harsh weather subdued.

  Evelyn’s nerves raced. Alverton’s hand still held hers securely, and she did her best not to assume he meant more by it than assisting her from the snow.

  “Much better,” he said. His gaze darted around the trees, pulling her further into the woods and away from the oncoming storm. They paused in the center of the grove near the large oak tree and Alverton halted, releasing her hand.

  She felt instantly bereft.

  The man was tall and his attitude imposing. At times she wondered at the audacity of his own self-importance, but clearly he had been raised to value his rank and esteem himself above those of lesser birth. She could not blame him for that which his parents had taught him to believe. And though she had grown to care for him—for underneath
his judgmental exterior she was sure by his subtle kindnesses to her brothers and his own friend that a warm heart resided within him—she could not force him to forget a lifetime of consequence for her.

  “You should return home,” he said.

  “I cannot. I am expected at the vicarage and I will not let them down.” The wind howled around them as the storm worsened even as they stood within the sanctuary of the grove. Snowflakes darted past the barren branches and fell lazily around them as they stood facing one another, both of their shoulders set stubbornly.

  “Your father can complete the errand just as efficiently.”

  Had he not just sat with her father in the library? The man struggled to walk due to his own weakness and constantly fell asleep. Of course he could not complete the errand just as efficiently. “I must disagree with you.”

  Alverton shook his head. “I have visited with your father numerous times the last few days and learned of his determination. He will achieve whatever he wishes to.”

  He’d been visiting with her father regularly? “For what purpose?”

  A small smile fell upon Alverton’s mouth and Evelyn found she could not look away as he spoke. “We’ve discussed politics, mostly. He’s not all bad, for a Whig.”

  She could tell the words were spoken kindly, and her heart bloomed in response. The wind whipped around them and Evelyn tore her gaze from the duke’s lips. “I must go. You must allow me to make my own decisions, your grace. I am perfectly capable of finding my way to the vicarage.”

  He stared at her, bothered, no doubt, by her refusal to accept him at his word. “Then I must accompany you.”

  She lifted her chin. “You will do no such thing.”

  “I cannot allow you to go alone.”

  “And I cannot abide your company, your grace.”

  He stepped back suddenly as though her words had been an assault on his person. Hurt momentarily splashed across his face and Evelyn immediately regretted the harshness of her words. But she’d meant them. Alverton was a constant reminder of her own deceit.

  “Forgive me,” he said coldly. “I did not realize that my presence was such a hardship.”

  “How could you not?” she said, surprised at her own boldness. “I cannot even think of you without shame overcoming me. I cannot stand to see you, for I am reminded of my own glaring faults.”

  She’d shocked him. His mouth hung slack while his gaze raked over her. Did he imagine he was the only one suffering for her lies?

  “I must go,” she said softly. “I need to deliver my message and return before this storm forces me to stay in Derham.”

  “No,” he said, lifting his hand. “It is not safe. If you will not allow my escort, then at least permit me to send a servant on your behalf. The vicar will understand, given the circumstances.”

  Wind howled around them like a wolf as though it was on the duke’s side. Evelyn drew in a breath, painfully keeping Alverton’s gaze. She felt a string connecting them, drawing her closer to him. Did he feel a similar connection?

  He stepped closer, dipping his head to better look into her eyes. “I will take your silence as acceptance, Miss Trainor. What would you like the note to say?”

  She swallowed, finding it uneasy to breathe regularly. “We can create space for two temporary servants, but we are unable to commit to any permanent positions at this time. They may arrive at their earliest convenience. I had the thought—”

  She paused. This was her own conjecture, not for the note. But the duke didn’t need to hear it.

  “Tell me,” he prompted.

  She looked up; his face was calm, and his eyes were kind. It was the expression she was used to seeing before her lies had been made known and it warmed her soul immensely.

  “Please?” he asked.

  “It is nothing,” she said. “I merely wondered if the mother should go stay with the Coopers. Dr. Cooper would never turn away a woman in need, particularly when her need is of the medical variety. And Julia would take good care of the woman. At least until the storm passes, or they find a home.”

  “The Coopers are unparalleled, are they not?” he asked, his voice dry.

  “They are good people, if that is what you mean.”

  “Are you planning to marry the doctor?” he asked, suddenly, stepping closer.

  Evelyn sucked in a breath, heart hammering at his nearness. How could he know such a thing? She had not even told Dr. Cooper of her scheme, so new and fresh it was in her mind.

  “You are, aren’t you?” he said, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

  She continued to keep her mouth closed. Silent against his anxious face, she could sense her own breath increasing in speed as the duke drew closer to her. And yet, she could not bring herself to speak.

  Chapter 16

  Alverton implored her with his gaze, wishing she would close the distance between them. She was so near her breath clouded, joining with his own. He simultaneously wished to pull her close, while his rational mind scolded his impropriety.

  He felt his heart tug as she stepped back, lowering her gaze as though she deemed herself unworthy of him. Her expression clouded, while his grew as clear as the icicles hanging from the barren tree branches at the edge of the grove.

  He’d been blinded earlier by her deceit and he had been unable to see her character for what it was. Once the dust settled, he could see plainly, and he felt the fool now for how he had treated her. Perhaps that was due to the stark contrast he felt when leaving her and entering the company of Miss Rowe.

  Evelyn’s goodness shone brighter than any flattering, coquettish lady of his acquaintance. It mattered not that she didn’t have a title or an elite social standing. She was good. Too good to settle as a doctor’s wife.

  “You deserve far more than he can offer you.”

  “You mistake me,” she said, “he has not offered. Not since…well, I am not certain he will accept my suit now, but I am determined to try.”

  Alverton shook his head, confused by her choice of phrasing. “I’m afraid I do not understand.”

  “I must not speak of it until I have had a chance to speak to him, your grace. Forgive me, but I must keep quiet at present.” She closed her lips, her eyes shining with determination.

  “Can I not persuade you to bring me into your confidence?” But even as he said the words, Alverton knew it was far too great a favor to ask.

  And her silence was telling.

  “Very well,” he said curtly. The lack of trust stung, but he knew he was asking too much of her. “I shall relay a note to the vicarage directly and you must return to the safety of your home.”

  She nodded, dipping a curtsy before turning to leave.

  He watched her walk away for a moment before turning toward Chesford Place.

  “Your grace,” Evelyn called, causing him to turn back. She was hurrying toward him, her breaths quick and shallow, and his heart leapt. “If you shall take my advice and return to London, allow me to take my leave of you now.”

  “I shan’t go without a farewell,” he promised, though he didn’t know why. Before he succumbed to the temptation of calling on Mr. Trainor, he had been prepared to wash his hands of her. Part of him had wanted a glimpse of Evelyn when he visited the Trainor house, but he had told himself his purpose in calling was his interest in learning more about the man who was determined not to give up his political seat in direct consequence of his health. And he had learned a great deal.

  With each successive visit, Alverton had learned more about Mr. Trainor, and more about the man’s family. It was through the raw conversations and stories of Evelyn and her brothers that Alverton had begun to gather a realization that he’d been wrong to hold one mistake against Evelyn.

  And speaking to her now, he drew the conclusion that he’d been correct in his growing assumption over the last few days: he’d misjudged her.

  “Very good, your grace,” Evelyn said. She seemed reluctant to leave and he held her gaze, tryin
g to read the emotions there.

  He watched her a moment longer, listening to the wind as it whipped around the grove and threatened to steadily worsen. He was hesitant to let her go, for a very small part of him was convinced he would never see her again.

  But that was madness. And the storm was growing worse.

  Sweeping her hand into his own, he brought it to his lips. Turning it around so he might face her palm, he bent his head and placed a kiss on the space between her glove and her sleeve, on the exposed skin. Alverton heard her breath catch and his chest swelled in success.

  This beautiful, unaffected woman had captured his attention and he was prepared to tell her to forget Dr. Cooper and run away with him just then. But his mouth would not open to speak the words that his kiss had implied, and his hand dropped hers. Fear spread through him at the reaction he was sure to garner from his mother, grandmother, and Society as a whole were he to announce a connection with Miss Trainor, a woman of no status worth mentioning.

  He squeezed his eyes closed and counted to ten to clear his mind.

  It was as though magic was at play, however, for when he opened his eyes once more, Evelyn was gone.

  * * *

  Mother trailed behind him as Alverton pulled on his riding boots and snatched his gloves from the footman.

  “But I do not understand where you are going!” she cried, following him about from one place to the next as he prepared to leave. “Have you seen the storm outside? I cannot like it at all.”

  “Sanders has yet to return,” Alverton said. Again.

  “And for good reason,” Mother said with feeling. “Surely he has found somewhere safe to wait out the storm in the village.”

  Alverton turned, piercing his mother with a glare. “I made a promise to a friend that I would have a note delivered and my conscience would not allow me to send an innocent footman into that storm.” He needn’t tell Mother that it was Evelyn which inspired him to have a conscience on that score. But she had. And Alverton needed to do this for her. “And besides that, Sanders is not home.”