Mother groaned, dropping herself onto the chair against the wall and leaning her head back as though she was doing her best not to faint into a puddle on the floor.
“Send a footman!” Mother screeched, then pointed. “There’s one right there. He should do nicely.”
Alverton did not bother to respond. It was only days ago that he would have agreed with her—the servants were paid for this very thing. But he knew how Evelyn would frown were he to do such a thing, and he could not bring himself to act in any way that might incite her displeasure. He could not ask the footman to risk his life when Alverton was just as capable. It was he who made the promise to have the note delivered, and he who would accomplish this goal.
“It is decided and I will not hear another word of it.”
Alverton crossed the room, ignoring his mother’s exaggerated sniffles, and swung the door open.
The wind and snow which blew in as he opened the door caused him to question his sanity. But regardless of his growing moral sense, he could not leave Sanders out in the storm.
He could only hope that his mother was correct and Sanders had found a place to wait out the terrible weather. But Alverton knew it was not the case. Something in the very depth of his gut knew that Sanders was in trouble. He located the barn and accepted the reins of a prepared horse from a stable boy before he swung himself onto the frozen saddle, rubbing the steed’s neck in companionship. “Let’s find him,” he said.
They rode away from Chesford Place, down the road which ran along the grove. Alverton swept his gaze over the ground but snow was falling so quickly that any man who might have fallen an hour ago would already be fully covered in a white blanket of powder.
His nerves heightened the further he went, and by the time Alverton reached the edge of Derham he was positive he had missed Sanders.
But he was so close to the vicarage; it would only take a moment to leave his message and then he could continue his search.
Sliding from the horse, he grabbed the reins and led the animal all the way to the door, pounding loudly on the thick wood.
A tired looking man answered the door, his clothing telling a story of his limited means. Alverton knew at once that this was the man who’d come into town searching for family and had come up empty-handed.
How would he feel were he to arrive at his mother’s ancestral estate in search of his aunts and find that they relocated without so much as a letter? He would be hurt, surely. But he would also be able to stay at the nearest inn and return home forthwith. This family clearly did not have the funds for such an expense, and they did not have anywhere else to turn.
And all of this after losing their home and possessions in a fire.
A strange resolve overcame Alverton and he greeted the man, asking, “Is Mr. Hart in?”
“Yes, just this way,” the man said, indicating the house.
“Perhaps you will relay my greetings, for I am eager to return home. It is you I have come to see.”
His eyebrows rose but he did not speak.
“I have heard of your plight and I’ve come to offer you a position at Chesford Place.”
“Sorry, gov. Haven’t heard of it,” he said apologetically.
“It is an estate just south of here with plenty of land. I am sure we can find a comfortable arrangement. The vicar will point you in the proper direction if you would come once the storm has cleared. Likewise, another home nearby can accommodate two additional servants, albeit temporarily. When you come to Chesford Place, we can direct you there as well, if there be others in your family able and old enough to work.”
Hope shone in the man’s eyes and it was uncomfortable for Alverton. But while he was unused to this sort of exchange, he felt a warmth in his soul which burned and grew as he watched relief fall over the man’s face. Was this why Evelyn was forever serving others?
Alverton nodded briskly. “Is there an earl in there, by chance?” he asked gesturing inside.
When the man shook his head, Alverton cursed. He discovered the man’s name to be Mr. Howell and bade him farewell before swinging onto his horse again and turning back for the road.
“Alverton!” a voice called from the vicarage. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sanders standing in the doorway, waving to him to stop.
Alverton turned the reins sharply and the horse responded with jerky motions. He felt the animal’s back hooves slide and his stomach dropped out from under him. He could tell the moment he saw more white sky than shrubberies that he was going down, and he did not have enough time to stop it.
Air whipped around his body as the horse disconnected from him. Alverton smashed on the hard ground and black closed in around him in one swift motion.
Chapter 17
“Do you think the storm will let up tonight?” Evelyn asked, pushing her dinner about her plate slowly with the tines of her fork.
“I am not sure,” Father responded. “It could rage all night, or it could move on swiftly. We must wait and see.”
Evelyn could not seem to escape the panic which had seized her as she’d walked away from the duke earlier that afternoon. She could not place precisely why she had the feeling, but the distinct impression came to her that she might not ever see the duke again. It was madness, but it was unrelenting.
“I cannot help but think of that poor family,” Evelyn said. “Can you imagine coming all the way to Derham only to find that your family had moved away quite a while ago? And after enduring a fire and losing everything.”
“It is a shame, but we shall rally. For all of its small size, the people of Derham are of good stock.”
Except for the Hollingsfords, of course. But that was an uncharitable thought. And in truth, Evelyn did not know them. She only knew of them.
The room was quiet but for Evelyn’s fork and father’s chewing. Aunt Edith had taken a tray in her room and the boys dined in the nursery.
So many things had occurred of late which had come to Evelyn secondhand, whether by her brother or her aunt, and she was tired of the information passing around her. She needed Father to be straightforward with her.
“Might I ask you a question?” she said before she could lose her resolve.
Father smiled at her endearingly and she swallowed. “Are my brothers in danger of losing their inheritance?”
He stilled, which was not a good sign, the only movement on his face that of his mustache, quivering in anger. “Why do you ask such a thing?”
Evelyn chose to hold strong. “Because I need to know in what way I must prepare myself. I will not see them sent to the poorhouse, Father.”
“It will not come to that,” he said. “I had hoped you would make an affluent match during the Season, but your stubbornness won out, I daresay.”
“Is that why you had the duke here this afternoon? A last effort to secure prominence?”
Father scoffed. His cheeks grew red and he pushed up from the table, his chair sliding backward roughly on the wooden floor. “That man came to speak to me about matters of politics, and nothing more. He has visited the house four or five times now, and never once inquired after you. I have never set my sights on a title on your behalf, and you would do well not to speak such absurdities.”
Properly reproached, Evelyn dipped her head. “Yes, Father.”
He likely did not hear her as he had already begun stalking from the room.
Now she really could not eat. Pushing her plate away from her she leaned back in the chair, expelling a breath of negative air.
She hated to admit it, but it made sense that Alverton would come to speak to her father about politics, and nothing more. The man was probably going wild with the women in attendance at Chesford Place and needed a reprieve. He most likely did not intend on running into Evelyn.
But he had. And confusing was the only word to describe their interaction. She had the express belief that he had been just as hesitant to leave her in the grove as she had been to leave him.
It
mattered little, though, for she had admitted to him, essentially, that she was planning to marry another man.
Closing her eyes, Evelyn dropped her head into her hands. She needed to get a handle on her feelings. They were irrelevant where status and livelihood were concerned. Dr. Cooper might not be able to keep them all in the house they had now, but he could make her comfortable, and Father and the boys would always have a place with her.
Aunt Edith, of course, could go live with cousin Harriet. Far, far away.
With that decided, Evelyn rose from the table and took herself up to bed. Now that Father had confirmed Aunt Edith’s threats about the state of their income, Evelyn was left with little choice. She would become an engaged woman by the end of the week.
* * *
She awoke to bright sunlight streaming through her bedroom window. Blue sky met her and a soft blanket of undisturbed snow covered the ground. The storm had cleared. A sense of urgency ran through her veins and she threw back the bedclothes, dropping her stockinged feet onto the floor and shuffling over to the bell pull.
Her maid arrived and helped her dress, putting up her hair simply. She smoothed her hands over the serviceable, brown muslin and blew out a breath of air. How had the duke ever believed her to be a lady when this was what she wore?
Oh, what did it matter?
She took herself downstairs and into the library. It was empty, but a fire burned low in the hearth. She was too uneasy to partake of breakfast, but she could not trace the source of her discomfort.
Perhaps it was merely her trouble with Dr. Cooper and the desire she had to settle things before Father returned to London after Twelfth Night. She was certain he would not press her to join him if she had already obtained a husband.
Calling for her cape and gloves, Evelyn dressed for the weather. Pausing by the door, she informed the butler of her direction and went outside. There were inches of snow, but it was not impassable. And the clouds which hung low in the sky yesterday were far gone, leaving behind a cold, crisp winter day.
She trekked slowly toward Derham. Perhaps it would have been wiser to ride a horse, but the ground was slick and she did not trust an animal above her own two feet. By the time she reached the Cooper household, she was frozen to the bone and looking forward to a bracing cup of tea and a hot fire.
Which led to immense frustration when the housekeeper answered the door and informed Evelyn that neither of the Cooper siblings were at home.
“Where might I find them?” she inquired.
“Miss Cooper is at the vicarage.”
Evelyn nodded, turning for the vicarage. Julia was involved heavily with the new family in town, it would seem. Someone ought to remind her that the vicar had capable servants, as well.
Rapping her knuckles on Mr. Hart’s door, Evelyn stepped back to wait.
The door swung open to reveal a housekeeper with a bustle of noise behind her.
“I’ve come to see Miss Cooper,” Evelyn said.
The housekeeper nodded, ushering Evelyn into the vicarage. “Yes, yes. Everyone is here. It is a full house if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“I had heard about the unfortunate family who came—”
“No, not only them,” the housekeeper said with wide eyes, her mouth forming a perfect circle. “’Twas that wretched storm. Did you not hear about the nobility?”
The swirling in her stomach heightened and grew. “The earl or the duke?”
“Well, both of them are here, of course. But only one of them is not waking up.”
Julia passed by the corridor then, her arms full of a bundle of linens, a weary expression on her face. She’d donned a worn, white apron which crossed over her back and tied in a bow.
“Julia!”
The woman paused at the sound of her name unceremoniously shouted behind her. Turning back, she blew out a breath. “Evelyn, have you come to help?”
“If that is what you need from me, then yes.”
“Come.”
Turning back up the stairs, Julia fled. Evelyn snuck past the housekeeper in the narrow corridor and followed her friend up the stairs and into a small foyer which opened to several doors. The house was snug, but there were rooms enough to fit a family. Perhaps the vicar would one day fill them with children of his own.
Julia waited at a doorway, her hand gently pausing over the handle. “Last night was likely the most trying and pleasant night of my entire life, Evelyn.” She swept her gaze over her friend’s gown. “’Tis a good thing, I think, you wore that gown.”
Without further explanation, Julia opened the door to reveal a woman with light, frizzy hair lying on a bed against the center of the far wall, her head bent toward a bundle swaddled in her arms. She lifted her face toward Julia and offered her a wan smile, dark circles rimming her eyes.
“The baby has come?” Evelyn asked.
The woman and Julia both looked to her. Her cheeks warmed. That had been an inane question.
“Yes,” Julia nodded, crossing the room and setting her bundle of linens at the foot of the woman’s bed. “And I believe we ought to change the sheets and help Mrs. Howell bathe.”
Evelyn swallowed. Was this not what servants were for? She did not mind helping, but she was utterly out of her area of expertise.
“The servants,” Julia said, as though she could read her friend’s mind, “are all busy helping my brother and the vicar. It is an unfortunate thing.”
Her eyebrows gently pulled together as she reached for the baby, smiling down at the child with a glimmer in her eye.
Evelyn began pulling her gloves off one finger at a time and set them on the chair near the door. She untied her bonnet and cape and laid them safely away before facing Julia. “Tell me how I might help.”
Julia offered the baby in her arms, and Evelyn’s heart raced.
“Her name is Rachel.”
She accepted the tiny bundle, holding her close to her chest. Rachel’s head was covered in soft, dark, downy hair and her eyes closed as she made soft mewling sounds in her sleep.
Evelyn was blind to the world as she held little Rachel, her heart swelling in love for the tiny little person who relied so heavily on others for support. Julia took care of Mrs. Howell with the help of the housekeeper and they bathed the woman, helping her into a fresh night rail and onto the newly changed bed again.
Rachel began to fuss uncomfortably, her eyebrows pulling together as her tiny rosebud lips pursed. A soft, muted crying began and her mother settled back against the headboard of her bed, holding her arms out for her child.
“She is hungry.”
“And we must see if Jared has need of our help in the next room,” Julia said.
Evelyn paused halfway across the room, holding the crying baby, her gaze turning sharply toward her friend. The housekeeper who was gathering soiled linens to remove from the room had mentioned earlier that a Peer was here and in trouble. Evelyn had pushed the thought from her mind when introduced to the baby, but now her body was humming with anxiety.
“Who is in the next room?”
“Who isn’t?” Julia said, exasperated. “I believe it is just Jared and Lord Sanders at present.”
Evelyn swallowed. “Who is ill?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Julia asked, looking to Evelyn with wide eyes. She dropped what she was doing and crossed the room, resting her hands on Evelyn’s arms as though supporting the writhing baby she held there. “He fell from his horse yesterday and hit his head something fierce.”
“Who?”
Julia swallowed visibly, her eyes concerned. “The duke.”
Chapter 18
A muted, crying baby sounded in the far recesses of his mind and Alverton could not place, for the life of him, precisely where he was. What he could place, however, was the dull, painful throbbing at the back of his head.
His eyelids felt heavy as he tried his best to pry them open, but he did not immediately register much beyond a dark, unfamiliar room.
For who else could be humming such a soothing melody?
The last thing he remembered was foolishly kissing Evelyn’s exposed wrist in a show of—what, exactly? He was uncertain what he had meant by the action, only that he had not been thinking straight. He’d convinced himself that the inferiority of her birth was irrelevant. That as a duke, he was entitled to break the rules and marry whom he chose.
But at what cost?
The humming continued, soothing his nerves. But how had they gone from the woods to a bedchamber? The throbbing at the back of his head was incessant, growing the more he tried to puzzle it out. He’d been in Sanders Grove with Evelyn, and then the storm had grown worse and worse until…
Alverton’s eyes shot open, coming face to face with Evelyn’s soft, green eyes.
She let out a small gasp and her hand rushed up to cover her heart. “Your grace!” she said, breathlessly.
His head ached as he tried to pull back his elbows to sit up.
“No, your grace,” Evelyn said, reaching forward to push him gently back down by his shoulders.
He succumbed to her soft direction, her fingertips pressing against his thin shirt. He didn’t want to admit it aloud, but lying flat was much less painful than trying to sit up.
“You must wait for Dr. Cooper to come and see to your injury before trying to move yourself.”
His eyes trained on her and he registered the concern playing over her features. “What happened?” he asked.
A Duke For Lady Eve (Belles 0f Christmas Book 5) Page 14