“We did. I apologize. It has simply been a most trying day.”
“Trying day? Again with that?” Abby repeated with raised brows and pointed to Eve’s bedchamber door. “In there, right now! I’ve had enough of this.”
“Abby, I don’t –” Eve protested weakly.
“Now!” she repeated with a stomp of her foot.
Defeated by the force of Abby’s will, Eve led the way into her rooms and to a pair of chairs set before the fire. Easing herself down into one, she stared into the fire while her friend took the other. “Evelyn Preston, look at me!”
Eve forced her eyes to meet those of one of her dearest friend’s when, to her horror, she felt them well with tears and her chin wobble.
Abby was instantly all sympathy as she pulled Eve into her arms. “Oh, Evie! What is it? I had forgotten this was the anniversary of when you learned of Shaftesbury’s death. Do you mourn him so much?”
Swallowing a watery chuckle that became a sob, Evelyn slid to the floor and lay her head down on Abby’s lap as Abby stroked her hair and rocked her much like she did her own child. Overcome by emotion, Evelyn finally let the tears fall freely. When the flow seemed to stem at last, Abby commanded in her soft voice, “Tell me.”
“It was not at all what I had imagined, do you know that? When we married, I had such hopes during our first year of marriage. I thought what a marvelous couple we would be. What wonderful conversations we would have! What grand places we would see together.
“But we were not a couple. ‘We’ were Shaftesbury and his favorite possession. It was horrible being his puppet. Being the perfect countess, the perfect hostess. Being controlled by force…”
“Evie!” Abby exclaimed. “Never say he beat you!”
“Not beaten,” she denied, “but beaten down, nonetheless. But strangely, I was never afraid, just locked into a life from which I had no avenue of escape. He molded me into the image he wanted.”
Evelyn closed her eyes again as the longing for freedom rolled through her. “I am trapped, William,” she had told him that day before he had left. “Alone. I have nothing here… with you.”
“He actually offered to buy me a pet to make my misery more palatable,” Eve confessed with a watery chuckle. “As if that would make everything better! He never understood that I could not live with being controlled and owned. Or he never cared. I believe that was actually the case.”
Abby stroked her hair. “You poor girl. We all assumed you were so happy. I never thought he might treat you so badly.”
“I told him that last day that I wanted out, that I wanted a divorce and that Da had agreed to support me in obtaining it,” Eve admitted it aloud as she had not dared to tell another. Not even Kitty.
“Well, good for you then! What did he say?”
“He said no, of course.” Eve shrugged, emitting a shaky sigh as she moved to return to her own chair. “He said he controlled me, that it was his right under the law of the Queen and my country as well. What I wanted had no bearing.”
“The devil, you say!” Abby exclaimed appalled that any man would dare to make such a statement. This was the 19th century after all, not the middle ages! “The nerve of the man!”
“You know, I think that was the first time I had ever seen him angry. Even when he would mete out his ‘punishments’ it was always without anger. He was always so stoic, so cold. In that moment, I think I hated him most,” Eve confessed. “And for a moment I wished he were dead… and then he was.”
“Well now you are free to do as you wish,” Abby started, but stopped when Eve shook her head.
“But I can’t be, Abby.” The confessions continued to flow with appalling truthfulness. “I want to, so very much! But I am nothing of myself any longer, only what he has made me to be. I have tried and tried to find myself, to be myself again, but… well, you saw it. You noticed in less than five minutes, months ago. I know you did! This is what I am now.”
“You are not lost, Eve,” her friend insisted. “Look at you right now! You are in there. You will find your way.”
“You are one of my dearest friends, Abby, and still, even with you, it is hard to overcome.” Eve took a deep, shaky breath. “Deep inside, I am afraid I will never find my way back to the person I was. Even tonight when…” Eve swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.
“It is difficult, I’m sure to start up in Society again…”
“No, it’s not that…I mean, it is, but it isn’t.” Eve gulped again struggling to find a way to explain. “Francis…”
“I swear to you, Eve, I have never seen the earl act as such a rogue as he did tonight!” Abby declared. “And I will have words with him, I assure you, about starting thus with one of my dearest friends.”
Evelyn marveled that this tiny woman could project a severity that could actually intimidate a person to their core. She had often been likened to an angel in appearance, yet she could shake you to your soul with a single look. It made Eve fear for Francis. “I’ve met him before, Abby.”
Taken aback, Abby’s face folded into confusion. “But when? How is that possible? Why, Francis hasn’t even left Scotland in years. Not since Fiona made him…”
“Take her to visit Lady Hyde in London,” Eve finished with a nod. “I met him just before I was betrothed to William.”
“He’s the one,” Abby whispered, awed by the twists and turns of fate. “Yes? The one that you wrote to me about?” Eve nodded. “But, Evie, this is wonderful! Isn’t it? You can begin again. You’re a widow and Francis is free now as well!”
A flare of warmth shot through Eve’s heart before it fizzled away and she shook her head. “I – I can’t, Abby. I’m not the same person. Once he knows that, he will be disappointed in me.”
“Nonsense!”
“Besides, I could never have an affair,” Eve shuddered, thinking of the repercussions of crossing such a boundary. “And I would never want to marry again, not after the hell I knew of marriage.”
Neither would Francis, Abby conceded to herself. But the thought took root, But what if they did? What if this was their second chance at happiness? This is what she had felt coming even months before, when she had wagered fifty pounds on Francis and her brother both that they would fall to a woman. Perhaps there was a chance. “Why not just see what happens?” she suggested, holding up a hand to stem Eve’s protest. “The decision is yours, of course, but what is the harm in spending time in his company? There was a moment downstairs when both of you looked happier than I can ever remember. Did you know that? Everyone saw it… no, not in a scandalous way. I saw two people who had suffered much and finally found joy in one another. I was glad for you in that moment and I know that Francis’ family felt the same. Enjoy one another, Eve. Yes? And perhaps you will see the old you peeking out from time to time.”
“I could not encourage him into thinking that I might…”
“Of course not! I am not saying that you should lead him into thinking the impossible, but merely enjoy his company as he may enjoy yours. Whatever you choose, I will always be here to support you.”
“Oh, Abby, I have missed my friends so much!” Eve reached over and embraced her friend. “Thank you for this. For being such a dear.”
Abby softened then and returned the embrace. “Oh, my darling friend, you will get through this. I promise. You have many friends.”
“No, I have you, my family and a houseful of other people to entertain this weekend, each one believing that William and I were a great romance, everyone viewing me as a tragic widow.”
“It is a common assumption that anyone widowed was deeply in love with their spouse. Especially when they made such a handsome, fairytale couple as you and William did.” Abby reflected for a moment on all the marriages she had been witness to in her life, three of her father’s alone. “No one knows any more than that reflection, though most here probably just see you as elegant and aloof rather than tragic. It might help if you were to lay off your mourni
ng attire.”
“It wouldn’t be proper.” Eve shook her head, but added before Abby might interrupt, “Besides, I have nothing else here. Wearing nothing at all is most definitely not a step I am ready to take.”
Abby joined in her light laughter.
“I am sorry that William is dead,” Evelyn insisted uncertain whether she was being truthful with herself. “But he treated me so poorly and I wasn’t more than a possession to him and for that I just can’t be sad that he’s gone. And worse, I still feel locked up in the mental prison of the behaviors he forced on me. More than anything, I want to find my former self and let her free again.”
“You will find her, dear, I know you will.”
“Is everything all right, my love?” Richard asked of his wife when she finally returned to their room.
Abby slipped into his embrace and leaned her head against his chest. “I hope so.” She explained to him briefly in generalities out of respect for her friend and made mention of Eve and Francis’ previous meeting.
“I am glad to know that this wasn’t a complete aberration of my brother’s normal good behavior.” Richard shook his head. “I had thought for a moment he had completely lost his head.”
“He might have, and Eve may have as well.” Abby tilted back her head and smiled up at her husband. She had thought only this afternoon that something was about to happen and she had been right. Francis had it within his grasp now to overcome the legacy left by his marriage, to find love such as she shared with her Richard. For both him and Eve, it was as if a gift was being held out for them to embrace or deny. A gift which had the power to change both their lives for the better if they had the courage to put their respective pasts aside and reach out for it.
If they had the guts, she might win her bet and receive a prize better than a mere fifty pounds. “It is going to be an interesting week’s end, I think!”
Chapter 14
“Good morning, MacKintosh, old chap. Where did you get off to so early last evening?” Jack greeted Francis as he entered the private family breakfast room.
The other guests staying for the house party were gathered in the main dining room, but Francis had no interest in any of the guests save one. After ascertaining that Eve had been absent from that public room, he had chosen to escape to this smaller area to break his fast in peace. Abby had informed him that the whole house was abuzz with gossip about the dance he had shared with Eve and the scene that had followed on the terrace. So far the story put him in the wrong, for which he was grateful. Such gossip attached to Eve would be intolerable.
“Good morning, Merrill. Come in and sit…”
Francis paused in greeting Jack as his butler, Godfrey, passed by the door carrying a large floral bouquet. In fact, it looked very similar to the one he had sent one of the footmen all the way into Edinburgh to procure for Eve early this morning. “Godfrey,” he called. “What are you doing with those?”
The aged butler moved to the doorway holding the vase awkwardly at an arm’s length out in front of him. “These flowers have been returned, my lord.”
“Returned?” Francis echoed.
“Yes, my lord, the lady intended has returned the bouquet,” the butler rephrased stiffly.
“She what!?”
“The flowers were returned by Lady Shaftesbury, my lord,” the now uncomfortable butler repeated for the third time to the disbelieving lord.
“She sent them back?” Jack echoed then snorted with laughter. “I cannot say I am surprised. I swear to you, that Lady Shaftesbury is cold as ice. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Evelyn cold? No, my friend,” Francis shook his head as a myriad of memories flowed through his mind. “Cold, she is not.” He leaned back in his chair and hooked his hands together behind his head looking very satisfied with himself. “If you only knew, Merrill. There is fire in that woman. Spit and fire.”
Jack shook his head in surprise. Spit and fire in the countess? He had seen nothing in two long months of courtship that could be even liberally interpreted as warmth. She was politely distant from others, frosty to him. He had heard rumors that she had slapped another gentleman the previous evening as well. He eyed his friend suspiciously. Francis? “Well, she obviously doesn’t want your attention.” Jack nodded to the flowers. Any more than she wants mine, he thought. “You should stay away from her, you know.”
“I know, I know. Everyone in this family has gone out of their way this morning to tell me so, and I shall resolve to do so.” The notion was a logical one. His Eden certainly wasn’t the type for a romantic lovers’ tryst. But could he truly let her go? Knowing that his chance, maybe his only chance, at happiness was at stake? Such a thought was as optimistic as any he had ever had in his life. Indeed, was he truly thinking that one woman – a woman! – might actually be his opportunity at a happy life? His wife had given him a taste of marriage that should have soured him completely, and had for many a year. Eden had been the only one who had ever buoyed Francis with this feeling of optimism. Of anticipation. He hated to give it up.
Jack filled a plate of eggs and haggis and sat down again at the table. “Since you have now met my prospect, tell me what you think.”
Francis tore his thoughts away from Eden and frowned in confusion. “But I haven’t met the countess yet. Is she here?”
“Amusing, old man, one might almost think you didn’t know who she was.” Jack glared mockingly at his friend. “I’ve been trying to break through her ice for weeks and yet there you were almost kissing her on the dance floor just moments after meeting her.”
Francis shook his head and looked apprehensively at his friend. “You mean… ?”
“Aye, that’s what I mean.”
“She is your heiress? She is the countess?” Francis was not pleased. In fact, the emotion roiling through him could only be defined as jealousy. He had never felt it before, but knew it immediately from the sour taste it left in his mouth. The very thought of Eve in the arms of another, in the bed of another, set his very blood afire. “My Eden is your countess?”
“You really didn’t know?” The realization brought a harsh laugh to Jack’s lips. “Lady Evelyn Ashley-Cooper,” Jack nodded. “Aye, the Countess of Shaftesbury. MacKintosh, I told you all about her,” he reminded. His raised brows indicated a reminder that Francis was to help him reel the heiress in.
“I know you did, but…” The stories Jack had told him about the countess that had been amusing a day before now raised his ire. To think he had encouraged Jack in this pursuit! That Jack might actually wed with his Eden! Envy and anger rolled through Francis, though he managed to bite out calmly, “I did not know she was the one.”
“Given your flirtation just moments after meeting her, I gathered that you were unaware, but I would have thought Richard might have told you.” Jack munched on his haggis and sent another baleful glare at his lifelong friend. “I must say, it was most disconcerting to see you whisking her off to the dance floor when I haven’t been able to achieve so much as a walk through the park with her. How did you do it?”
“I did not just meet her last night, Jack.”
“You haven’t been to town since she’s been here,” Haddington pointed out. “What other opportunity might you have had?”
“I met her in London many years ago.” Francis stared off in remembrance of the bonny lass she had been. A lass who had grown into an extraordinary woman. “When I was visiting my grandmother. She was just a young lass then, so full of vinegar.”
“Lady Shaftesbury? Full of vinegar?” Jack snorted into his coffee. “I cannot even imagine! Seems time has changed her.”
“It seems it has.”
“You like her well enough then, yes?” Haddington returned to the topic at hand. “I assume you approve of the match then?”
“What!?” His mind rebelled against the thought. Life had gotten in their way once before. How could he allow it to do so again? Still, how could he stop her from her own potential of happiness? H
e could not… should not! But the word emerged harshly from his lips, “Nay!”
“You don’t think she’d make a good choice for a wife?”
She’d make the best choice possible if one had to marry, but Francis couldn’t bear the thought of her wedding Jack. Just the thought that he had finally found her again and Jack wanted to take her away…! Revulsion burned in his gut at the very idea. He refused to stand back and allow that to happen. “Ye cannae hav’ her!”
Jack was amused by his friend’s outburst. He spoke as if Jack meant to steal his prize mare. “Truly?” Merrill crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair with an amused chuckle. “And what is it you mean to do wi’ her, if I may be so bold as to ask? Marry her yourself?”
Francis could not stop the appalled grimace that soured his expression.
“You see my point, do you not? Lady Shaftesbury certainly does not appear to be mistress material, you know.” Jack pointed out needlessly the very thought that Francis had been pondering all night.
“Aye, I know.” MacKintosh looked deeply wounded. He couldn’t have her, not in any way that would be fair to her. Not in any way that could be considered respectable, but still he could not give her over to his friend either; could not bear to see her in the arms of another. Images flowed through his imagination that nearly made him sick. He could not have it happen! “You willnae take her, will you?”
“Nay. If it displeases you so, the thought of my pursuing her.” Years of friendship prompted Jack to offer, however with the countess’ cold and unreceptive demeanor, he’d be better off to continue his search elsewhere. Time was running out for him and he felt it might take years to convince the countess to accept his suit. He could afford to appear magnanimous. “If you wish, I will look elsewhere for a wife.”
“Aye, I wish… I wish…” Francis knew he should leave Eve be, but could he really stay away? No. He knew he could not. He would offer her his friendship, he decided. If he could not have her in his bed, he might still at least have the pleasure of her company. The years had changed her greatly, but Francis was certain the lass he had known so briefly was still there.
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