Adele accepted the tea, impressed with Evangeline’s ease at serving. She rather thought the poor girl wouldn’t have had proper instruction given her mother had died when she was so young. “Your godfather is the same man he’s been since the first day I met him,” she said with quirked lip. She took one of the cakes from the platter Evangeline held out. “Stubborn, handsome, far too serious and yet ... one of the funniest men I know,” she mused, her face lifted a bit as she answered Evangeline’s query.
Evangeline watched the countess as she recited the virtues of Milton Grandby, Earl of Torrington. “Have you told him he’ll soon be a father?” she wondered with a knowing grin, asking the question in a hushed voice.
Adele blinked, her expression suddenly one of shock. She dared a glance down to her lap and then back to Evangeline. “Why ever would you ..?” her eyes shifted to the left, as if she were trying to reason out how to answer the question.
“Oh,” Evangeline managed as she straightened in her chair. “Oh, dear. That was an entirely inappropriate question, wasn’t it?” she hastened to say. “I apologize. Oh, dear. I ... I ...” She set her cup and saucer on the low table and clutched her hands together in her lap, her shoulders slumping.
The countess stared at Evangeline for several seconds, her mind racing. Although she might have looked a bit as if she’d been eating a few too many cakes at tea, Adele hadn’t thought it was due to being pregnant. Her husband had just been so insistent she eat more, claiming she seemed to have lost weight since their wedding the year before. But, now that she thought about it, she was late – quite late – with her monthly courses.
Taking in a calming breath, Adele angled her head to one side and regarded Evangeline with a grin. “No one yet knows,” she offered, tempted to add, ‘Not even me.’ Her brows arched up to indicate that no one would know until she decided they needed to know. And that she would be the one to inform anyone when it was time for the news to spread through the parlors of Mayfair.
“I understand,” Evangeline replied as she nodded quickly. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”
Adele gave her a wan smile. “I haven’t confirmed it with a physician just yet,” she offered, her heart suddenly racing. What if I really am pregnant? What would Grandby think? They hadn’t discussed heirs and spares and daughters as such. Her husband’s latest attentions toward children were directed at those who were his godchildren. Most were grown now, although many hadn’t yet married. “May I ask how it is you think I am? With child, I mean?” Adele wondered suddenly. She almost asked about Clarinda, as well, since the chit seemed to know something about her condition.
Evangeline sighed, wishing she hadn’t read quite so many books – especially the one about human reproduction. “Well, it’s just that ... you look as if you’re glowing. Like you have a light inside. Radiance, it’s called,” she murmured. At the look of surprise on the countess’ face, she continued, “And you look as if you might have eaten a few extra cakes at tea. Which is perfectly fine and to be expected since you are eating for two,” she added hastily, her face taking on a blush that colored her from the top of her bodice to the roots of her hair.
The countess stared into her teacup for a moment, rather liking her reflection on the surface of the liquid. She smiled and then began to titter, one hand reaching up to her lips. “I do, don’t I?” she acknowledged with a smile.
“Hmm. Would you like more tea?” Evangeline offered as she lifted the strainer and pot from the tea tray.
“I suppose I shall since I’ll be having another one of these delicious cakes,” Adele replied, with not the least hint of embarrassment.
Evangeline poured the water and settled back into her chair. “May I ask what brought you to my parlor today?” she asked carefully, refilling her own cup more out of nervousness than because she wanted another cup just then. Lord Sommers would be along at eleven o’clock to read with her. The thought had her heart beating just a trifle faster, for she found she looked forward to the hour or so they spent reading and in conversation about the book.
The countess set her saucer on the low table and gave a sigh. “It’s about ... about your late night caller,” she offered with some hesitance.
Her face brightening, Evangeline suddenly straightened in her chair. Someone had noticed Lord Sommers’ visit! She wondered if it were Lady Pettigrew or Lady Brougham who saw the baron. And did they notice his arrival? Or his departure? A shiver shot through her body as she remembered the delicious sensations Jeffrey Althorpe had managed to invoke in her that night. The way he had kissed her lips, had stroked her skin with his long fingers, held her breast in his palm and used his tongue and lips ... “Oh, Lord Sommers, you mean,” she managed to get out without sounding too breathy.
Adele didn’t try to hide her surprise, stunned that Evangeline would so happily admit to receiving a man at such a late hour. “Yes.”
Attempting an expression of contrition, Evangeline gave a shrug with one shoulder. “We’ve been reading, you see. The same book.” She reached over to touch The Story of a Baron, the ornate bookmark poking out from the top of the pages. “I bought the last copy at the Temple of Muses at the same time the baron wanted to buy it. We had just completed a chapter that left us both wondering what would happen next, and neither of us could sleep, so ...” She shrugged, not sure what else to say in her own defense. Not that she really wanted to defend herself. There was suddenly a hint of scandal surrounding her!
Evangeline Tennison was a topic of gossip!
“May I inquire as to who ... who paid witness to Lord Sommers’ arrival?” she wondered, hoping the countess would give up her source.
Adele shook her head. “No one, near as I know,” she answered quickly. “Which is a relief, given your reputation was ... is at stake,” she added with a look of mock horror. She didn’t miss Evangeline’s sudden look of disappointment, and gave a gasp of surprise at the chit’s behavior. “Evangeline Tennison! Are you trying to become the next subject of gossip?” she asked in shock.
The earl’s sister sighed and leaned back in her chair. No one saw Lord Sommers? If that were the case, then how did Lady Torrington discover the baron had paid her a visit? “If no one saw the baron, then how is it you know ..?” She broke off the question, her attention turning to the parlor door. The only other person who had been present during Lord Sommers’ visit was Jones, the butler. Damn him! she thought, realizing just then that he probably had orders from her brother to report to Grandby should she do anything ... unexpected. Unladylike.
Scandalous.
Adele watched as Evangeline reasoned out the answer to her own question, rather impressed that the chit didn’t need it all explained in sordid detail. “He’s doing his job, Evangeline. Do not be angry with him,” the countess said softly.
Shaking her head, Evangeline whispered, “I am not. I am just ... disappointed.”
The countess regarded the earl’s sister for a moment before realizing Evangeline’s disappointment didn’t stem from having been reported by the butler but by not having been discovered by a neighbor. “So ... you really are trying to become a topic of gossip!” she said again, this time with more concern.
Evangeline couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She inhaled and let it out in a long sigh. “I have a reputation as a bluestocking. Anything I can do to alter that perception will be an improvement, I should think,” she responded sadly.
“Oh, Evangeline,” Adele replied as she shook her head from side to side. “A reputation as a bluestocking is far better than that of fallen woman,” she stated emphatically. She let the comment hang for several moments before asking, “Do you love him?”
Evangeline blinked. And blinked again. She was about to say ‘Lord Sommers?’ but realized that, of course, Adele Grandby referred to the baron. “I cannot yet say that I love him,” she replied quietly. “I ... c
are for him. I ... appreciate his opinions, even though I do not always agree with them. I suppose I am fond of him,” she finally said with a nod.
Adele finished her cup of tea and considered taking another cake, but thought better of it. “If he should offer for your hand, would you ... accept?”
Evangeline lifted her head and suddenly appeared nervous. “I should think that would be up to my brother,” she answered with a shake of her head. “But ... I’ve no reason to expect Lord Sommers would do such a thing.”
The countess resisted the urge to sigh loudly and instead helped herself to another cake. “He will if he wants to. He will if he has to,” she said with an arched eyebrow.
“Has to?” Evangeline repeated, a bit alarmed. “He’s done nothing to ruin me,” she lied. “And I don’t want him to be compelled to offer for my hand if he doesn’t ... he doesn’t wish to,” she finished lamely, not at all pleased with what might happen should her reputation suddenly be in question.
Adele considered her word carefully. “I won’t say anything to your godfather, but know this, young lady. If there’s a single hint of scandal involving you and the baron, Lord Sommers will be receiving a visit from my husband.”
Evangeline’s eyes widened as she realized her godfather’s wife was making a threat. “Yes, my lady,” Evangeline answered with a nod, finding the words more of a comfort than a warning just then.
Her duty done, Adele took a bite of the cake and glanced around the room, realizing she hadn’t done so when she first entered the parlor. For a house occupied by an international explorer and a young woman who had been orphaned as a girl, the decor was surprisingly modern – and just a bit on the feminine side. The peach watered silk walls and green Aubusson carpet made for a comfortable space, although the upholstery on the chairs was a bit worn and the mahogany table scratched in several places.
Realizing the earl’s wife was evaluating the decor in the parlor, Evangeline held her breath. “Please, don’t look at the ceiling,” she pleaded as she took the last cake.
Of course, the countess couldn’t resist looking at the ceiling, angling her head to study the coffers above. “Why ever not?” she replied in surprise. “It’s rather lovely,” she offered, pretending not to have noticed the shifting threads of cobwebs strung from coffer to coffer. When she realized Evangeline’s discomfort over the lack of attentive housekeeping, she leaned forward. “Don’t fret, dear. Worthington House has them, too,” she finally added with a wan smile. Then the countess popped the last of her cake into her mouth and took her leave of Rosemount House just as a light rain began to fall.
Evangeline watched the Torrington coach as it left the semi-circular drive in front of Rosemount House, breathing a sigh of relief when it finally disappeared from view. Although she understood Lady Torrington’s concern, she couldn’t help but look forward to seeing Lord Sommers again.
No sooner had she thought about the baron than she was aware of Jones opening the front door. She glanced at the clock above the fireplace. Eleven o’clock. The man is punctual, she thought with a grin.
Before she had a chance to tidy up the tea tray, Jeffrey was suddenly standing on the threshold of the parlor, his dark hair glistening with rain drops. He bowed and said his greeting before hurrying to take her hand.
“I almost came earlier,” he said as he took her hand to kiss the back of it. His lips lingered a moment too long, but Evangeline wasn’t about to scold him.
“It’s a good thing you did not, for I was hosting Lady Torrington for tea,” she replied, one eyebrow arching up.
Jeffrey straightened, his good humor suddenly replaced with a more sober expression. “Is anything ... wrong?” he asked carefully.
Evangeline shrugged one shoulder. “Apparently the butler told my godfather about your visit the other night,” she replied. “And so his wife felt it necessary to remind me of propriety.”
Alarmed, Jeffrey backed up a step. “I shall take my leave of you ...”
“You will do no such thing,” Evangeline replied with a shake of her head. “You will stay here and read with me. All day, should you like, although I’ll be hosting some friends for luncheon at two. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like.”
His eyebrows furrowing, Jeffrey regarded Evangeline with new found respect. The chit had apparently been counseled about her reputation and yet she wasn’t about to allow the countess’ warning to prevent her from hosting him in her home.
He nodded. “I should like that very much, my lady, although I do have plans this afternoon and so will forego the luncheon.”
Evangeline felt a bit of relief at his mention of not being available for luncheon. Samantha and Julia would be joining her, and she didn’t yet want to share the baron in a social setting. “Let’s move to the library,” she suggested suddenly, thinking they would be more comfortable in the leather couch than on the high-backed settee.
“Of course,” Jeffrey agreed. Picking up the book whilst Evangeline saw to the tea tray, he followed her out of the parlor and down to the library. A fire had already warmed the room, and Evangeline turned up the gas to the overhead chandelier so it’s golden light illuminated the couch and low table.
Moving to the couch, he took his usual position and stood waiting until Evangeline joined him. Once she was seated, he pulled the book onto his lap whilst Evangeline poured the tea and they began to read.
Chapter 30
Chapter Eight: A Birthday Picnic in the Park
The group of party participants settled onto the clipped lawn in Hyde Park, many remarking on how perfect a day it was to enjoy a picnic. A group of footmen set about spreading out large cloths over the lawn, erecting umbrellas to provide shade for the ladies, and then opened several baskets containing an array of foods – sliced meats, cheeses, clusters of ripe berries, sliced breads, cut fruits and tarts – and went about arranging them in colorful collections on each cloth. Several bottles of wine were uncorked and set upright inside one of the baskets. Two baskets remained unopened and off to the side, their contents unknown to Lady Barrick or her guests, save Lord Barrick. Matthew was tempted to take a peek, wondering what the viscount had for gifts for his beloved wife, but he figured their contents would be discovered soon enough. And maybe sooner if the baskets didn’t stop moving about.
“I do say, it’ a beautiful day for such an outing,” Matthew offered as he lay back in the grass and regarded the collection of white clouds overhead. Lady Geraldine, still rather incensed by the baron, gave a cursory glance at the sky and said merely, “I suppose.”
Matthew sighed. If he didn’t make things right with Geraldine – and soon – the afternoon would be ruined. He sat up and leaned over so his words could only be heard by the earl’s sister. “I am sorry, milady,” he whispered. “I should have known better than to believe gossip about you,” he added when he saw her furrowed brows.
Geraldine regarded him for a long time. “What ... What is the gossip you’ve heard about me?” she wondered quietly, her face taking on a blush that colored her face a bright pink.
Matthew considered how to respond, surprised Geraldine didn’t already know. Or, perhaps she did know and wanted to discover if he had heard something different. He shrugged in an attempt to soften the news. “You’ve bedded three men, cavorted naked in a pleasure garden and displayed your charms for any and all to see,” he replied simply. “Although I believe the tale of you in a pleasure garden has been debunked enough that you are no longer thought to have been present,” he added as he saw her look of astonishment.
“Three men?” she repeated in surprise. “But ... I have never been with a man in that way,” she argued, attempting to keep her voice low. She shook her head from side to side. “You must believe me,” she added, her voice taking on a hint of desperation.
Matthew shrugged. “I do,” he replied with a
nod. “But, Jerry, your reputation is ruined. Even if you didn’t do a single thing the on-dit suggests, mere perception has you guilty as charged.”
Tears pricked the corners of Geraldine’s eyes. “What must I do?” she asked, her brows furrowing, her breathing quickening as if she were running. “If I deny the accusations, I am perceived as guilty. And I certainly have no intention of admitting they’re true when they are not,” she added with a shake of her head.
Even today, when Lord Ballantine had been so quick with his assertion that a footpad had been responsible for her grass-stained gown and disheveled appearance, several people in Lady Barrick’s party had given her looks that suggested they had already come to their own conclusions about what had happened. She was, in most of the eyes of the ton, ruined.
Matthew regarded Geraldine for a very long time. He leaned in, his lips mere inches from her ear. “If you are married, all of the gossip will cease,” he said quietly. “You’ll be under a husband’s protection.”
Geraldine raised her eyes to his. Was the baron about to propose? If so, she knew she would have to agree to marry him. She had wanted nothing else since yesterday when they had renewed their acquaintance at the Palace of Prose. “I understand,” she acknowledged with a nod. She held her breath, hoping Matthew would say the words that would save her from the wrath of fickle ton.
“Come, everyone!” Lord Barrick called out. “It’s time for a party game!”
Geraldine’s eyes closed. Matthew rolled his eyes. And half of those in the party of twenty or more groaned so that the other half laughed at the simultaneous negative response. Those who laughed and some who had groaned stood up and joined the viscount for the game whilst the others remained where they were on the expanse of lawn.
The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) Page 16