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

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A Duke For Lady Eve (Belles 0f Christmas Book 5) Page 15

by Kasey Stockton


  She looked between his eyes before glancing over her shoulder. “I was not present. I can fetch—”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Do not send for anyone yet.”

  “But your grace, this is not at all proper,” she said, a small degree of playfulness to her tone. There was a hint of challenge as well. “I wouldn’t want to compromise you.”

  That was a valid concern. Alverton realized the truth of her words and shock rippled through him at his own carelessness. But what surprised him even further was the very distinct fact that he was not at all worried about Evelyn forcing him into a marriage to save her own name. He had the express feeling that if she was put into such a position, she would not require that of him.

  But he would want it, all the same.

  Surprise filled his very soul as he watched Evelyn fidget with the hideous embroidery on her brown gown. She was so unassuming. So kind and generous. She was willing to risk her life in that wretched snowstorm just to relay a message that she would do her best to help complete strangers.

  And Alverton loved her for it. It never would have occurred to him to serve another person in such a way, he would have simply sent a servant. But he could see how the service Evelyn rendered others brightened her soul, and it touched his heart. Much as it had when he’d spoken to Mr. Howell earlier.

  “Please tell me,” he said, his voice hoarse from disuse.

  Evelyn rose, crossing to the ewer on the other side of the room, pouring a glass of water for him. She handed him the glass, guiding her hand in between his shoulder blades to help him sit up just enough to drink.

  “Very well,” she agreed. “Do you not remember the fall?”

  “That is not what I meant, Evelyn. I want you to tell me that you haven’t—”

  “He is awake?” a deep voice said from the door, garnering Evelyn’s attention.

  Well, he could not inquire now.

  “Yes,” Evelyn answered. “Only just. I’ve given him some water.”

  Dr. Cooper nodded, letting himself into the room. “I apologize for leaving you. I can take it from here if you’d like to go.”

  Evelyn’s gaze traveled to Alverton, uncertainty in her eyes. “I would be happy to stay and help.”

  “If you insist,” Dr. Cooper said, a little edge to his voice. “But I am sure the duke would appreciate privacy for his examination.”

  A pretty blush spread over Evelyn’s pale cheeks and she dipped in a curtsy before walking from the room.

  Dr. Cooper watched her go and Alverton realized that the man did, indeed, care for her. Hadn’t she mentioned she did not know if the doctor would accept her suit? It was such an odd prospect that Alverton could not be certain what she had meant at the time.

  “What happened?” Alverton asked.

  “Your horse slipped. You went down and he fell on top of you. You do not remember?” Dr. Cooper asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

  Alverton searched the corners of his mind. He did remember riding to Derham and speaking to the man about the job, but then he had left.

  “Oh,” he said, remembering the white wall of snow and turning back when his name was called. “Yes. It is foggy, but I recall bits of it.”

  “That is not unusual,” Dr. Cooper said, stepping close to peer into the duke’s eyes. “It will come back to you in time, I am sure. You hit your head on the ground. You were fortunate not to hit any rocks, or we could be having an entirely different conversation, but the icy ground was bad enough.”

  “Will this blasted headache ever leave?”

  “Eventually, I suppose. Head injuries are nothing if not mysterious.”

  “That is what I feared,” Alverton muttered.

  Dr. Cooper completed his examination. “You must be careful with what you consume today until we know how your body reacts to food. I asked Hart’s cook to prepare broth and I’ll have it sent up right away. Is there anything else you would like?”

  “Yes. I should like to get out of the vicarage. Can you send for my carriage?”

  “Might we wait until you have eaten, your grace? I would advise you give yourself a couple of hours, at least. It is not uncommon for head injuries to manifest in…well, suffice it to say that it is very likely you will cast up your accounts.”

  “Well that certainly explains the swirling in my stomach.” He had wondered if that was due to Evelyn’s humming. But no, this was more than excitement. It was nausea.

  The doctor left the room, pulling the drapes tighter on his way out.

  Alverton filled his lungs, expelling the breath slowly. He heard a growing chatter of female voices downstairs that grew louder as the maid opened the door to bring him a tray. He was pleased to find that Evelyn followed the maid inside and tried his best to offer her a smile.

  “Is there anything I can get for you, your grace?” she asked. “Or anything you’d like me to send for?”

  “What is the commotion downstairs?” he asked.

  She looked guilty, her glaze flicking away. “Your female relations have come to inquire after you, but Dr. Cooper will not allow them upstairs.”

  Alverton’s eyebrows rose. He promptly winced and lowered them.

  Evelyn came around to the head of the bed with two additional pillows and helped him to sit up so she could place the padding behind him. He was not upright, but he was angled enough to make eating less of a chore. Evelyn took the tray from the maid and set it over his lap.

  Taking her previous seat angled near the head of his bed, she watched him closely.

  It did not escape his notice that the maid claimed a chair alongside the wall.

  Evelyn must have noticed his gaze, for she said, “Alice remained by my side for the duration of my shift sitting with you, your grace. She had been gone but a moment when you awoke.”

  “Did you hum while she was in the room, as well?”

  A blush spread over her cheeks as she glanced to the maid. “No. You heard that?”

  “I am sure it was your humming which caused me to wake.”

  Evelyn shook her head but a small smile graced her lips and he wanted to see it grow.

  “You must eat, your grace. But Dr. Cooper asked me to remind you to take it slowly.”

  Alverton speared her with a gaze. He lifted the spoon to his lips and drank, the warm broth soothing his body as her humming had calmed his mind.

  “I am in earnest,” he said.

  “You are too much, your grace,” Evelyn said, rising.

  Alverton’s hand shot out and grabbed hers. He swallowed another spoonful of broth and said, “No, stay.”

  Her gaze was frightened but he firmly held on until she sat again. Slipping her fingers from his own, she glanced to the maid who sat against the wall, her face trained toward the floor.

  “Will you sing for me?” he requested, though he knew what her answer would be.

  The small, playful smile she shot him was worth it, though. “No, your grace. Now please eat more soup.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “You must not call me that,” she admonished, a severe expression moving over her face.

  “Have you agreed to marry the doctor?” he asked.

  She averted her gaze. He watched her, setting down his spoon. Why put off a declaration when he was so sure of his own feelings?

  Reaching for her hand, he took her delicate fingers in his own. “Oh Evelyn, how could you consider marrying anyone but me?”

  Her eyes darted to his. “You must be jesting.”

  “No, I am in earnest. I am prepared to speak to your father and arrange an agreeable settlement. I want you to be my wife.”

  Chapter 19

  Was he in earnest?

  His face looked pained, but his eyes implored her. He lay on the bed in nothing but his shirtsleeves, and she did her best to avert her gaze from his very open neck.

  She swallowed, pulling her fingers from his warm grip. “I cannot believe anything you say in this state, your grace. You hit your he
ad rather hard yesterday.”

  “Headache or not, I know my own mind.”

  “But I cannot know it, and I will not trust that which is said under such trying circumstances. You’ve only just awoken, your grace.”

  His altered state of mind could not be trusted. Her thoughts traveled back to the kiss he’d placed on her wrist while they were in the woods, and she stood, wringing her hands. It was all too confusing, and she needed to get away from his stifling influence.

  “I will leave you now, your grace.”

  “Wait,” he said, reaching for her again. She swiftly stepped outside of his reach.

  “Good day, your grace. I will pray for your healing.”

  Evelyn closed the door softly behind her, her mind shooting back to the moment when the duke had called her my lady. Though he spoke it as though it was her title, he emphasized the my in such a way that Evelyn’s heart had flipped over in her chest. She was prepared to admit that the man had a place within her heart, but they were not compatible. How could she accept a man who sustained a head injury just the evening before offering for her?

  Though, she owed him credit in the growth of his character. He seemed a changed man since the moment she caught him speaking to her father in the library. The fact alone that he was willing to condescend to talk politics with a man who served in the Commons was enough evidence of that.

  Carrying Alverton’s tray down the stairs to deliver to the kitchen, Evelyn turned the corner to find Dr. Cooper standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall with his head dropped low.

  “Sir?” she asked, gathering his attention.

  He turned toward her slowly, his face grim.

  “What is it?” she pressed. There was a sorrow about his eyes that ripped through her very heart. She longed to rush forward and soothe her friend, but the tray sat between them and she had nowhere to set it down.

  “’Tis nothing,” he said, offering a grim smile. “Merely a lonely man’s reverie. Never mind me.”

  Something within her told Evelyn that the trouble Dr. Cooper faced had nothing to do with health of the body—but perhaps he suffered health of the heart.

  And she could pull him from his misery with her plan to marry him. It was the smartest course of action available to her. She had determined to follow it—to inquire with this man whether he was still interested in marrying her as he had claimed to be before she left for London. His own sister requested that Evelyn not toy with his heart. Was that not proof enough he was unchanged?

  But her mouth remained closed. She could not convince it to open no matter how many times she ran the logic through her mind. Alverton’s odd and very recent proposal sat like a wall between her objective and taking action, and she stalled, helplessly.

  “Allow me to take that,” he finally said, reaching for the tray.

  Shrill voices trailed into the corridor from the closed door at the end of the hall and Evelyn winced.

  “The duke’s family is in the parlor,” Dr. Cooper explained. “I have told them they are not to bother him while his headache remains, for we do not want to cause permanent damage.”

  A younger voice—the cousin, no doubt—whined obnoxiously just then and Dr. Cooper shared a small smile with Evelyn.

  “That would not be good for the duke’s health, I fear,” she agreed.

  Dipping his head, Dr. Cooper turned to go.

  Evelyn watched him retreat, her mind running anxiously. Should she follow him? What would occur if she blurted the words aloud now?

  The door opened to the parlor and Mr. Hart stood in a halo of light.

  “Ah, Miss Trainor. Do come in,” he said, a pleasant smile on his face. She could not escape the connection now and felt Dr. Cooper slip away before she stepped into the room.

  The vicar introduced her to the duchess, Mrs. Rowe, and Miss Rowe. Julia sat unobtrusively in a chair opposite the women, and Evelyn immediately chose a seat near her friend.

  Julia looked exhausted. Her smile lacked its usual pleasure, and dark circles formed under her eyes. Her lack of rest the evening before was apparent in her wan expression and her consistent yawns. Evelyn wanted to find a way to encourage her friend to go home and sleep, but with such elite company she found she couldn’t think of what to say.

  “My poor Alverton,” Miss Rowe said, raising a handkerchief to dab at her eye.

  Well, that certainly garnered Evelyn’s attention. What would the young woman think if she learned that her poor Alverton had proposed to Evelyn just moments ago?

  Sniffling, the young woman continued. “I cannot think of him lying ill without my heart breaking into pieces.”

  “He will heal,” the duchess said, her nose tipped up and a pinched mouth that reminded Evelyn very much of Aunt Edith. “The doctor said he has already awoken.”

  Irritation crossed Miss Rowe’s brow. “Then I do not understand why we cannot see him. A simple peek to settle my discomfort could not harm him, surely.”

  “That would hardly be appropriate,” Mrs. Rowe snapped, her gaze darting to the vicar.

  “I believe he will be able to travel home shortly,” Julia said kindly. “My brother merely wants to be certain that a carriage ride will not do more damage to the duke, and then he will settle the arrangements for the duke’s transportation.”

  The women stared at her with identical expressions of confusion and annoyance. The duchess looked down her long nose, her beady eyes searching Julia up and down and finding, most likely, every thread out of place.

  Julia snapped her mouth closed, her cheeks glowing pink.

  Miss Rowe sighed. “This room is hardly comforting and I cannot sit here while Alverton lies in a room just upstairs. It is too much to be borne.” Wailing slightly, the young woman dabbed at her eyes again. Turning soft, tearful eyes on her mother, she said, “Perhaps we would do better to wait in the comfort of Chesford’s drawing room, Mama.”

  “Yes,” the duchess said crisply, glancing about the vicar’s humble parlor with poorly concealed disdain. “Let us go.”

  They rose and Mr. Hart reached for one of his canes, settling it before him to push himself to his feet. Julia rose as well, crossing to Mr. Hart and laying a hand on his arm as she bent to speak to him in a soft, muted tone. He looked up at her, nodding once, and lowered himself, casting a sheepish smile toward the women.

  “I would be happy to see you out,” Julia said calmly, clasping her hands lightly before her.

  Evelyn rose, curtsying to the women as they filed from the small room. She shared an exasperated look with the vicar and wondered if he had managed to get any sleep last night.

  It was not an appropriate question to ask, however, so she kept her mouth closed.

  “At this rate I should begin charging. I could have been a fantastic innkeeper,” the vicar said wryly.

  “Your charity has not gone unnoticed,” Evelyn replied. “And I know you shall find blessings because of it.”

  He turned his gaze toward the open doorway. “I am hopeful,” he said quietly.

  Julia came back into the room, sharing a look with Mr. Hart before dropping onto the chair beside Evelyn with dainty grace.

  “All the way to their carriage they could be heard lamenting the lack of respect. Well, I never!” She scoffed. “They can take their lack of respect and—”

  “Julia,” Evelyn said, stopping her friend. “Perhaps I might walk you home?”

  Turning to face Evelyn, her cheeks rosy from an oncoming blush, Julia nodded. “That would perhaps be best.” She glanced to the vicar, her eyebrows pulling together in concern. “Should I remain, sir? I do not want to leave you with too much of a burden.”

  “You may go, Miss Cooper. I have servants enough to handle the remaining guests.”

  They took their leave of the vicar and Evelyn accepted her gloves, cape and bonnet from a maid who’d retrieved them from upstairs. They seemed to do little, however, for cold seeped through her clothing and cooled her skin the moment she stepped
outside.

  “That must have been a mad house yesterday,” Evelyn said, drawing her friend’s hand around her arm.

  “I would be satisfied if I never have to endure such a night again. Jared was traveling back and forth between the duke and the laboring mother all evening, Mr. Hart was unable to assist and quite downtrodden about it, and Lord Sanders merely sat in the duke’s room and moped. To mention nothing of the Howell children.”

  “Lord Sanders?”

  “Indeed. He sat by his friend’s side all night waiting for the man to wake. He only left just before you arrived—and he took Mr. Howell and the children with him. The saint of a Lord has agreed to lease them a cottage on his property and will find them positions within his estate. At least for the eldest daughters and Mr. Howell. The others are far too young.”

  “What kindness,” Evelyn breathed. “If all of nobility could have such warm hearts, there would be a wealth of sorrow relieved.”

  “Yes,” Julia said, sighing. “But we must be content in knowing that while some people of affluence are quick to turn their backs on those in need, others will do what they can to assist.”

  Indeed. The Hollingsfords had it within their authority to help but had chosen not to.

  Much like she would have expected from Alverton at one time. But his presence at the vicarage was telling. Had he chosen to go himself to deliver her note instead of sending a servant in the storm?

  “I have every hope of marrying such a fine man, myself,” Julia said softly.

  “And you shall,” Evelyn said.

  Julia cast her a look. “Perhaps sooner than you realize.”

  “Who is the man?” Evelyn asked, pausing in the lane.

  Julia shook her head. “I cannot say. Yet.”

  “You will leave me in such suspense?”

  Julia cast her an apologetic look. “I have made a promise, Evelyn. But I will speak to you the moment things are settled, I vow.”

  Evelyn sighed dramatically. “Very well. I shall not press you further. But do tell me if I am to be happy for you?”

  Julia’s eyebrows pulled together. “Of course.”

  A smile settled on Evelyn’s lips and warmed her heart. Before she had left for London there had been many conversations between the friends lamenting Julia’s lack of suitors and fear of remaining a spinster. Had the Earl of Sanders made Julia an offer? Or perhaps another worthy gentleman?

 

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