Geraldine regarded Matthew for several moments, wondering if he would offer for her hand. Instead, the man leaned over and kissed her temple. “I must speak with your brother,” he said quietly. Then he pulled himself up from the ground and joined the others for the game.
Watching the baron as he took his leave of her, Geraldine frowned. “Damn you, Ballantine,” she whispered. But the baron was already out of earshot. And it was nearly an hour before Lady Barrick realized the picnic was her birthday party, and only because her husband had her open the two remaining baskets. Daisy Timmons squealed in delight as two white puppies jumped out of the baskets and landed in her lap.
Geraldine tried very hard to be happy for the viscountess, but found she could not share in her friend’s delight. According to rumor and through no fault of her own, she was a ruined woman.
Such were the workings of the fickle ton.
Chapter 31
The Plot Twists
Evangeline suddenly looked up from the book. Her slight inhalation of breath had Jeffrey tensing. She knows, he thought, a bit of panic rising inside.
“I have thought this for some time, but this character,” she started to say and then stopped, taking a steadying breath. “Geraldine has a very ... similar backstory to my own,” she murmured. “It’s almost as if ...” Evangeline left the sentence unfinished, although from her expression, Jeffrey realized she had figured out that she and Geraldine were, indeed, supposed to be the same person.
And, yet, they were not.
In fact, now that he’d spent so many hours with Evangeline at his side, so much time in conversation, he had decided the two women couldn’t be more different. Geraldine was proud of her station in life, vain about her beauty, and far too confident, he thought. I wrote her that way, he reminded himself, imbuing her with qualities he only imagined Evangeline possessed.
Less than likable qualities, he now realized.
He had been so attracted to her, and simply because she was the daughter and sister of an earl, he had imagined her to be like so many other women of the ton. Women who took on their fathers’ or husbands’ rank in the realm as if they themselves were the dukes or marquesses or earls or viscounts. Women who barely deigned to speak with him because he was a mere baron.
Jeffrey stilled himself, deciding now was not the time to admit he was the author. In fact, there was no reason for anyone other than his publisher to know.
“As if?” he prompted gently.
Evangeline swallowed and wondered how to respond. The man sitting next to her didn’t seem to make the connection. Perhaps she was reading too much into the description of the earl and his sister. But how many earls were absent for months on end for expeditions to the far corners of the planet? How many lived in houses which had the word ‘rose’ as part of their names? How many had inherited at a young age, having lost both parents to drowning when their ship sunk during their Grand Tour?
And how many sisters of earls had missed their come-outs and Season after Season of balls and soirées due to those earls having left the country without first arranging a suitable companion or sponsor?
She only knew of one brother and sister who fit the description. Harry and me, she admitted to herself. Whoever wrote the book knew them, or knew their situation.
Shrugging, Evangeline sighed. “As if they know me. Or my brother,” she amended, hoping she might be reading too much into the character of the sister.
Repositioning himself on the couch, Jeffrey wondered how best to respond. “There are similarities to your brother, certainly,” he stated with a nod. “So I could see where one might get the impression you were the model for Geraldine, but ....” He shook his head, realizing he had to tread carefully. “You’re really nothing like Geraldine, are you?” he asked rhetorically.
Her eyes widening in surprise, Evangeline shook her head. “I should hope not,” she replied, indignation evident in her voice. “Did you ..?” She stopped, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Did I ... what?” Jeffrey wondered, his curiosity piqued.
As her fingers nervously pleated her gown, Evangeline considered how to respond. “Do you ... did you believe that I am?” she finally asked, feeling a bit hurt. How could he think she would be as vapid, as flippant or as proud as Lady Geraldine?
Lowering his head, Jeffrey considered how to respond. “I admit that I thought you might be,” he finally got out. At Evangeline’s startled gasp, he quickly added, “At first. But I realize now that you are nothing like her. Lady Geraldine is not a reflection of you.”
Evangeline dared a glance at the baron, hoping he spoke the truth. “Truly?” she replied, her eyes bright.
Jeffrey’s eyes locked with hers, and for a brief moment, he felt a bit lost. I could drown in those sea green eyes, he thought as he considered how to respond. Or I could just kiss her. Take her mind off the damned story. Promise her a happy ending.
Forever.
The reminder of the last word of the book had him back in the moment. “Truly,” he finally answered. “I assure you, I have seen no indication of pride, or ... vanity, or the brashness with which Lady Geraldine conducts herself in you,” he said in a tone of reassurance. “In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if the baron is even aware of how ill-suited he is for the gel.”
Reassured by Jeffrey’s words, Evangeline relaxed. “I have wondered the same,” she agreed. “In fact, I keep expecting a completely different woman to capture his fancy. I cannot imagine Geraldine is the woman he will marry, or he will not have a happy ending.” She frowned suddenly, once again remembering the last word of the book.
Forever.
Jeffrey watched as Evangeline’s expression changed once again. ‘What is it?” he asked, worry showing in his features.
Evangeline shook her head. They were halfway through the book. There wasn’t another eligible female character for the baron to marry. “There isn’t going to be another woman for him, is there?” she asked rhetorically.
Fighting panic again, Jeffrey tried to appear nonplussed.
How do I respond? he wondered. I already know the baron ends up with Geraldine. He happily ends up with Geraldine. “Perhaps ... Perhaps the baron is fond of her for those very traits. Or ... perhaps she’ll change,” he said hopefully. “Perhaps we’ll see her character ... soften and become more like you, or perhaps she is merely play acting and is already like you,” he added with a nod. “Remember, she has had to live alone a very long time. It’s made her ... self-reliant, but she’s also been prone to a bit of bad luck, for I do not believe a woman can be the source of so much gossip when she truly hasn’t done most of what she’s accused of,” he explained quickly. “Ballantine will realize that, if he hasn’t already.”
Evangeline watched as Jeffrey’s face changed from one of consternation to hopeful to suddenly ... happy. She admired how his handsome features appeared as if they were lit by a dozen candles, especially when he said the last words.
Already like you.
She could have kissed him at that moment. And she was about to do just that when the sound of a clearing throat startled her.
“Pardon the interruption, milady, milord,” Jones stated from where he stood on the threshold of the library. “This note was just delivered by a caddy,” he said in his impressive baritone. “I believe it is from your brother, milady.”
Evangeline stood up nearly as quickly as Jeffrey, her face coloring up. Had Jones seen her just then? Had she really been just about to kiss Lord Sommers?
I was, she admitted to herself. And from the way he had been looking at her, she was quite sure he would have returned the kiss. As a series of what felt like pleasant flutterbies suddenly passed through her, she quickly moved a hand to press against her middle. The sensation, so unexpected and yet so pleasurable, almost had her giggling.
&n
bsp; Evangeline stepped forward to retrieve the missive from Jones, thanking him as she did so. “Have the housekeeper see to my brother’s room. Be sure it’s aired out and the bed linens are fresh,” she ordered. The butler nodded his understanding and quickly took his leave, but not before giving the baron a scowl. Turning her attention back to Jeffrey, Evangeline urged him to take his seat in the couch.
“Perhaps I should take my leave,” he suggested, having noted the look of loathing he’d seen on the butler’s face.
“Oh, do stay,” Evangeline replied as she broke the wax seal and opened the folded note. She glanced at the signature, knowing before she even read the crooked script that it was her brother’s. “It is from Harry,” she said as she lowered herself to the couch.
Reluctantly, Jeffrey followed suit. “He is well, I hope?” he responded, wondering how much longer it would be before the earl made an appearance at White’s. When he was in town, the earl was a regular at the card table where Jeffrey sometimes played.
“Yes. His ship has docked at Wapping, but he has some arrangements to make for his cargo before he’ll come home.”
Jeffrey regarded Evangeline as she continued to read the note, wondering if she had been about to kiss him when the butler appeared. Christ, the man had nearly scared him to death!
Perhaps that had been his intention.
“Cargo?” Jeffrey repeated, when he noticed Evangeline folding the note back to its original shape.
“He always has specimens he has to see to before he can leave the ship,” Evangeline said matter-of-factly. “In this case, probably more fish,” she said with a nod and a look of amusement replacing the expression she had been wearing as she read the note.
“Oh, yes, the fish,” he remembered from their earlier conversation. When other Englishmen were on a fishing expedition, it was to catch fish for the sole purpose of eating them. He rather doubted the Earl of Everly intended to eat any of the fish he was bringing back with him.
“Yes,” she replied with a nod. “To add to his collection, I suppose,” she said, meaning the glass tank against the wall.
Often wondering if the explorer sometimes brought back fish for a reason other than adding them to the large aquarium in this room, Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. “None are intended for the dinner plate, I take it?” he commented lightly.
Evangeline smiled as she shook her head. “It would take a good many of them to make a meal,” she replied with a grin. “Although Lord Norwick often threatened to turn some of them into appetizers on occasion.”
Jeffrey’s face took on a look of alarm. “Whatever are they guilty of to cause the Earl of Norwick to threaten them so?” he wondered, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
Settling her back against the leather couch, Evangeline shrugged. “Every time Norwick is in here, the fish swim about very quickly in a circle,” her fingers drew a swirling motion in the air, “And when he is close enough, they send a wave of water over the edge of the tank and splash him. Ruined one of his riding coats, they did,” she explained with a nod. At Jeffrey’s look of disbelief, she added, “At least, that’s what he claimed. I was in another room when it happened the second time.”
Grinning, Jeffrey leaned toward her. “And where were you the first time?” he asked in a hushed voice, one eye arced up as if he suspected she might have been doing something illicit.
Evangeline’s smile slowly faded as a shiver shot down her spine. Sure her face was bright pink, she raised a hand to one cheek. Pointing toward the corner of the library where an upholstered chair and side table were positioned under a window, she said, “I was over there reading. I was ... fifteen, sixteen at the time, and Lady Clarinda Brotherton asked if she could see the fish. My brother was so proud of them, and I think he might have been just a bit sweet on Lady Clarinda, so, of course, he insisted she take a look. And whilst she was watching them, they started wiggling their fins at her, as if they were waving at her. But she wasn’t really paying them much attention because she had spied Lord Norwick through their tank.” Evangeline paused, wondering how ridiculous the story must sound to the baron.
Jeffrey’s eyes widened. “Go on,” he insisted, intrigued by Evangeline’s tale.
Smiling, Evangeline blushed and said, “She fell in love with him.” After a beat, she added, “Or it could have been his twin brother. I never could tell those two men apart,” she murmured, hoping Clarinda married the one she had met on the other side of the fish tank. Evangeline paused a moment. “When he introduced himself to her, the fish splashed him. Quite thoroughly,” she said with a mischievous grin. “He’ll never make peace with the little beasties.”
Suppressing the urge to laugh, Jeffrey instead allowed a smile. “Do you suppose they would splash me?” he wondered as he indicated the fish tank with a wave of one hand. If I attempted to kiss you, he thought to himself.
Evangeline regarded Jeffrey for a long time before she finally shook her head. “No,” she replied. “They know better than to cross me.”
Jeffrey nodded, hoping he understood her meaning. “I have to admit to feeling a bit of relief at hearing that,” he murmured, his grin finally reappearing.
“Would you think me wanton if I kissed you?” Evangeline asked suddenly. Without allowing Jeffrey a moment to consider his answer, she leaned over and lowered her lashes until they nearly rested on the tops of her cheekbones. She reached up and kissed him on the corner of his mouth, one hand clutching his lapel.
Before Evangeline could pull away, Jeffrey angled his head and captured her lips with his. The kiss was quick and quite thorough, and Jeffrey would have allowed it until her guests showed up for their luncheon, but he dared not linger in case the butler was still outside the library.
As he was about to straighten himself on the settee, Evangeline gripped his lapel harder, pulling him closer so her lips could touch his again in a kiss that was far more satisfying and just a bit longer than his.
The feel of his lips, warm and firm against her softer lips, was like nothing Evangeline had experienced before. He tasted of the tea they had shared, of the cake he had eaten between chapters. And his scent of sandalwood and citrus had her enveloped in a warm cloud. Sure she was purring, she reveled in the moment until she realized he really would consider her wanton if she didn’t release him.
Reluctantly, she ended the kiss, but before she could straighten on the leather couch, Jeffrey had a hand wrapped around her shoulder. Pulling her against the front of his body, he whispered, “Thank you, my lady,” and almost as quickly, let go his hold on her.
Evangeline regarded him with a small smile. “Shall we continue reading?” she whispered back, thinking the sound of her heart beat was louder than her whispered plea.
Jeffrey blinked as he had to realize to what she referred. He nodded. “Chapter Nine?” he murmured.
Evangeline nodded.
And to ensure he didn’t do with her what he really wanted to do, Jeffrey Althorpe turned his attention back to the book and began to read.
Chapter 32
Chapter Nine: Convent or Altar
Richard Porterhouse, Earl of Afterly, was nursing a brandy in the card room at Black’s when Matthew found him. There was talk the man was after funding for his next archaeological expedition and rumors the Royal Society might back him.
“What’s this I hear about you wanting to leave again so soon?” Matthew asked as he joined the earl.
Richard clapped his friend on the back. “Good to see you again,” he said with a huge grin. “And, yes, the rumors are true. It looks as if I’ll be able to return to Italy,” he acknowledged.
“Back to Rome?” Matthew asked, surprised at the earl’s mention of his destination. “Weren’t you just there?” He recalled Geraldine mentioning it the morning they met at the Palace of Prose.
Richard didn’
t try to hide his surprise at Matthew’s question. “I was. But I spent most of my time in Greece. Near Athens. What do you know of Rome?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.
Suddenly nervous, Matthew shrugged. “I believe your sister mentioned it when we ran into each other at a bookshop a few days ago,” he replied, deciding the truth was easy enough.
The earl nodded. “I passed through there on the way back here. The coliseum was a mess. Trajan’s Column is disintegrating. But most of the churches seem to be intact,” he said as if Matthew should have known what he was talking about. “I was there on a bit of a reconnaissance mission, if you will. There’s some interesting work being done in one of the cathedrals there. Seems a fresco has gone missing,” he said, his voice lowering just then, as if the missing fresco were a secret not meant to be shared.
Matthew merely nodded his understanding, even though his first thought had him wondering how a fresco, presumedly a painting in plaster on a wall, could disappear. Unless the entire wall had disappeared. Which meant an entire building was probably gone as well. “I hope you’re able to find it,” Matthew said. He wondered how to bring up the topic of Geraldine, but Richard did that for him.
“Tell me, Ballantine. What ... what have you heard regarding Jerry?” the earl asked, sotto voce.
Matthew had to resist the temptation to inhale sharply. “Heard?” he repeated. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
The Earl of Afterly rolled his eyes and moved closer to the baron. “The gossip?” he clarified. “Is it true she was parading about au naturel at Vauxhall Gardens?” he whispered with a hint of disgust.
Shaking his head, Matthew gave a sigh. “I believe you’re referring to an incident involving Lord Atherton and his mistress,” he explained. “Lady Geraldine was not in the Gardens that evening,” he added.
The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) Page 17