Eve pinched her mouth into a tight line but allowed the slight without comment.
“I wish you wouldn’t be so mean.” For as long as Eve could remember, Noelle was always trying to keep the peace. “And besides, this is rather important.”
“How important?” Eve asked.
Noelle straightened her shoulders, glancing between Eve and Holly, who was fussing with her blond hair at the vanity.
“He wants to marry me,” Noelle announced.
What? Eve spun around. “Who wants to marry you?”
“Lord Blitzencracker?” Holly froze.
“Blitzencreek.” Noelle appeared nervous and scared but also… excited.
No! This could not be good. It was too soon!
Eve rushed away from the window, took Noelle by the hand, and set her down in the high-backed upholstered chair sitting by the bed. “You can’t marry him, Noelle. You’ve only just met him. It is up to a gentleman to court a lady before asking for her hand. He hasn’t even met Papa yet!”
But Noelle refused to meet her eyes. “He promised me a boon and so I was hoping he would marry you, Eve, but he says that the two of you don’t have any…” She waved her hands in the air, searching for the proper word. “Butterflies for one another. But he thinks that he and I might…”
But that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Of course, there weren’t any butterflies between her and Lord Blitzencreek.
“Why on earth would I want him to marry me?”
“He thinks the two of you might… what?” Holly seemed far more interested in this conversation now than she had initially. “And by butterflies do you mean—?”
“Because you have been so sad. I thought that if you had a husband—”
The hurt from Nicholas’s failure to follow through with his intentions still stung and for Noelle to think she needed to blackmail a gentleman into marrying her almost felt like salt poured onto her wounds.
“I do not need my little sister to find a husband for me. Do you think I’m such a dolt as all that?” But Eve couldn’t help but think that Nicholas hadn’t cared enough to even read her letters.
“Because the two of you might… what?” Holly whined, kneeling on the floor beside Noelle now.
“Enjoy marital relations,” Noelle answered but turned back to Eve. “I just wanted to do something that would help you.”
“I don’t need your help! Or anyone else’s!”
“But you’ve not been yourself. And I don’t think it’s simply because of Mother. There is something else.”
Holly turned to stare up at Eve as well. “When Mama died, you were a watering pot but after the funeral you stopped. And that was even worse. You turned into… a shadow.”
Eve glanced back and forth between Noelle and Holly and her heart cracked. Had she really been so selfish? She’d thought that she’d been being strong for them. But had she shut them out in the process? “I have been rather gloomy, haven’t I?”
Noelle nodded. “We miss you. You are our sister. We are sisters. If we don’t watch out for each other, who will?”
The past year had been dreadful for all of them. In that moment, Eve resolved that she would be more cheerful—especially with the holidays so near. She would do her very best to make Christmas a time of celebration. Regardless of what happened with Nicholas.
“I’m sorry.” Eve blinked away tears. “I truly am. I should have been doing my best to cheer the two of you and instead all I’ve done is feel sorry for myself. And now this…” She half-sobbed, half-laughed. “My little sister is trying to marry me off to a perfect stranger.”
Eve nearly choked at the idea.
Holly sniffed. “I’m sorry too.”
Noelle let out a huge sigh. “None of us has anything we need to apologize for. But we can’t keep ourselves locked in this grief.”
“No, we cannot.” Eve only wished they could do something about their father. “Even if Father has.”
Both her sisters nodded.
“Aunt Winifred isn’t grieving. She has a beau.” Holly grinned slyly.
Eve turned, staring at her little sister and marveling at what a beautiful young lady she had become. Holly had always been the most loving amongst them—the most affectionate. Also, the most likely to get into mischief.
Still… “Of course, she’s grieving. Mother was her sister.” Eve huffed.
“It’s been a year now.” Holly frowned but then shrugged. “I saw her walking with Mr. Kringle before the storm yesterday. And just before they parted, the two of them stepped behind the tall evergreen and he kissed her.”
“On the lips?” Noelle giggled.
“You were spying on them?” Eve clarified.
Holly nodded. “Of course. What else is there to do in such a tiny village?”
“Aunt did seem awfully interested when Lord Blitzencreek mentioned his feelings on physical love.” Eve’s mind flashed back to all of the roasts and chickens Mr. Kringle had sent over since they’d arrived…
Which reminded Eve of why Noella and Holly were here to begin with.
“What are your thoughts on the baron’s rather abrupt proposal?” If that blighter hurt Noelle in any way—by heavens—Eve would make certain he became well acquainted with her sister’s wrath!
“It’s to be something of a marriage of convenience. I don’t love him or anything so absurd as all that.”
“Don’t you want a love match, Noelle?” Holly sounded sad at the idea.
But Noelle was being wise in that regard. Love was dangerous. It could hurt a person more than she had ever imagined. A part of her agreed with Noelle’s reasoning, and yet a marriage without love could be painful as well.
“Father loved Mother desperately. Remember, he used to tell us that she mattered more than the earth and the moon and all the stars in the sky to him.” Noelle’s lips trembled. “It’s like he died when she died. I don’t think I could endure going through that. Ever.”
“But it’s possible he won’t die before you,” Holly offered optimistically.
“Everybody dies, Holly,” Noelle answered. “And if I die before him and if he loves me, then I’ve left him to endure all that pain alone. No, love isn’t worth the risk.”
“He doesn’t love you either, then?” Eve asked.
Noelle wasn’t exactly unaffected by all of this. Was it possible she felt more for this bedraggled Blitzencreek fellow then she was letting on?
“No.” But she looked none too happy at the admission. “He does not love me.” She glanced from Holly to Eve. “He does not.”
“He’s only making this offer because you saved his life?” This did not seem like a good circumstance to bind oneself to another person for life. “Because if that’s the case, he could come to resent you and I wouldn’t relish such a marriage as that either, even if I didn’t care about a love match.”
“Wait a minute, I thought Mr. Clark saved his life.” Holly looked between her two sisters, confusion knitting her brow.
“No, it was me.” Noelle avoided Eve’s question. “I couldn’t sleep again, and I was watching out the window.”
Eve had suspected as much, but she frowned, unwilling to signal her approval of her sister going out into a blizzard, alone, in the middle of the night! Even if it had been the compassionate thing to do…
“He is a baron,” Noelle said into the silence. “He’ll be needing an heir.”
More silence.
“And he said he thought that he and I—that he thought he would like—”
“He wants to bed you, doesn’t he?” Holly asked.
After her own afternoon tryst, Eve could hardly be shocked at Holly’s question. Red flushed Noelle’s cheeks and Eve did her best to think of anything but Nick’s hands…
“I rather got that impression. Yes. But after doing… that, we would go our separate ways—aside from occasionally having to come together for the sake of the child.” Noelle was obviously forcing herself to sound chee
rful. “I would not only be a baroness but a woman of means. Both of you could have a proper Season in London, more than one, I imagine, if you like. And perhaps marrying one of his daughters to a lord might perk Father up a little…”
“Do you like him?” Holly blurted out.
“I do. But I can’t allow myself to feel anything more than that. Because—”
“Father.” Ah, yes. Eve sighed. So many of their ideas about love had been twisted by their father. It was as though he’d lost the will to live now that their mother was gone.
“Lord Blitzencreek is somewhat handsome.” Holly grimaced “If you like that sort.”
“He’s positively dashing!” The dreamy look on Noelle’s face was more than a little worrisome. “I doubt I’ve ever seen such lovely lashes on a man, and his eyes are an extraordinary blue. When he smiles, the most adorable little dimple appears right here…” Good Lord, Noelle had already fallen for the man. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You speak as though you’re half in love with him already.” Eve couldn’t help remembering the excitement she’d felt from that first moment she’d caught Nicholas watching her.
“It is only because he had been so kind. After we are wed, I imagine that these…”
“Butterflies?” Holly inserted.
“Yes. These butterflies will go away. And after the consummating business, we shall remain friends, just as Wollstonecraft suggests. It’s exactly like she recommends, actually.”
“You wish to marry him then?” Eve knew when to cut her losses. It seemed that the Bailey girls would be going through more changes than they’d bargained for. Because if Noelle married this Blitzencreek fellow, she would be going away from them.
Eve glanced at Holly, who was so lovely and delightful, and knew in her heart that it wouldn’t be long before some gentleman won Holly’s heart as well.
“Marriage is forever, and forever is a very long time,” Holly stated solemnly.
That night at dinner, what they managed to salvage of it, that was, Eve’s concern for Noelle diminished considerably. Lord Blitzencreek seemed to be a decent sort, and he seemed to genuinely care for Noelle.
Eve hoped that was enough.
Long after Blitzencreek bid everyone farewell, however, Eve still hadn’t heard a word from Nicholas. She rolled over in her bed restlessly. Had she really expected that after having failed to open the letters for over a year that upon finally discovering their existence, he would sprint to her side right off and declare his love?
She turned over again and punched her pillow. What if he didn’t even read them?
He will read them. Of course, he would. And then she worried over Noelle and Lord Blitzencreek.
After tossing for hours, Eve gave up on sleep altogether, donned a simple day dress in the dark of early dawn, and tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen.
She would bake.
She would make bread and perhaps some preserves and most importantly of all, she would make pies.
“Oh, Mama,” she whispered as she added wood to the stove and then moved around the room, lighting a few sconces. “I thought I loved him.” As a child, she’d spent hours with her mother, cutting apples, stirring the simmering sauce, and then rolling out the dough. Doing so now, she could almost imagine her mother standing beside her.
Even so, hours later she was no closer to having any answers. Her time hadn’t been spent in vain, however, as the kitchen was heavy with the aroma of spices, and they wouldn’t need to bake any bread for days.
She wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead and then wiped her hands on her apron when her aunt peeked inside.
“My, but you have been busy!” The feathers in Aunt Winifred’s hair bounced as she examined the counters laden with cooling breads and pies. “Mr. Kringle sent a missive round saying he has eggs and a nice cut of beef for us. Shall I take a pie and a few of these lovely loaves across?” Her aunt didn’t wait for an answer but began loading a basket selectively.
Remembering what Holly had revealed yesterday about Mr. Kringle and their aunt, Eve cracked a smile for the first time that morning. “We must hide your Mr. Kringle’s beef from Cook. The strays in the village are getting positively fat from all of her… mistakes.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head. And speaking of that—”
“You have a visitor.” Noelle entered. “You’re welcome to come back, My Lord.” She gestured behind her.
The air whooshed out of Eve’s lungs, and she barely managed to acknowledge Noelle as her sister swept through the room and then disappeared out the back door. Something about meeting Holly outside and going on a sleigh ride.
Aunt Winifred raised her brows. “Good day, My Lord.” She curtsied in Nicholas’s direction. “I’m late for my errands.” She scampered away with the loaded basket. Late? When had Aunt Winifred ever cared about being on time for anything?
Nicholas nodded but remained standing at the entrance of the kitchen until the two of them were alone. He appeared as though he’d suffered an even worse night than she had.
His face was pale, almost green, and dark circles were etched beneath his bloodshot eyes. Eve placed the finished pie she’d just removed from the oven onto the counter so that she wouldn’t do anything stupid with it and trailed her gaze over the rest of him. Despite the haggard appearance of his face, he’d dressed impeccably this morning, shaved, and his hair was neat and tidy.
He held her letters in one hand.
Eve steadied her knees, which suddenly felt as though they might buckle beneath her.
He’d opened them.
Eve glanced around the room, remembering some of what she’d written and feeling embarrassed. She’d been in love with him at the time.
“I read them.” His voice sounded gravelly and dry. “I’m so sorry about your mother. Yesterday, I never would have suggested—”
“I know,” Eve cut him off. “I realized later.”
Unsure what to say, if anything, she took up her knife and returned to cutting and peeling the apples she’d been working on. She was afraid to look in his eyes. She didn’t want his pity. She didn’t want his guilt. She wanted something that she hardly dared wish for.
He moved so that he was standing directly behind her—close—too close.
“All night, I’ve pondered words that might express how disgusted I am with myself.”
The heat of his body warmed her back.
“Did you ignore them intentionally? Were you that eager to relegate me to your past?” Eve fixed her attention on the apples as she spoke, slicing off the skin with jerky movements.
“God, no. I had no idea.” His hand settled on her waist and his breath caressed the skin behind her ear. “Something snapped when I heard that you’d gone. I don’t understand it myself, but I… panicked.”
Eve fought the urge to lean back against him. Was this what she’d been craving all night long? Was this what had kept her awake?
In London, he’d spoken to her of marriage and of making a family. “What did you do while you were on the Continent?” What did all handsome gentlemen do when they went to Paris? Picturing him kissing elegant Parisian women, imagining him touching them the way he’d touched her, made her slightly ill. How many women had he been with since the two of them had parted? How many women had he professed to love?
“My God, Eve!” Nicholas stiffened behind her.
Eve stared at her hands through a fog. Scarlet drops of blood dripped all over her freshly cut apples from a large gash she’d sliced through her palm. Black rimmed her vision when her nostrils caught the coppery scent of it.
She’d never handled blood with much dignity. She blinked and thought to speak but no words emerged. The last thing she remembered was Nicholas removing the knife from her as her knees crumpled and the floor rushed up to meet her.
Chapter 6
One minute Nick was prepared to profess his love to Eve again, and the next he was carefully lowering he
r limp form to the floor.
He kneeled beside her, brushing her hair away from her face, “Eve.” By now, the blood was soaking into her apron and gown. Grasping a nearby kitchen linen, he wound it around her hand and then leaned over her again, this time, gently touching her cheeks.
“Eve, love. Come back to me.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then drew back as her lashes fluttered.
“I’m sorry. Stupid of me.”
“My fault. I shouldn’t have distracted you.” He put one arm around her shoulder to steady her as she pushed herself up. “Good girl. Easy now.”
“The knife slipped.” She glanced down at where the blood had soaked her dress and swayed slightly.
“Don’t look at it.” Nick tucked her face into his chest. “Before coming to see you, I knew you might want to draw blood, but I imagined it would be mine.”
When she responded with a small cry, he tipped her chin up so that he could meet her gaze. “I must be losing my touch. I could always get you to laugh before.”
This did manage to evoke a very tiny little chuckle. She squirmed but allowed him to assist her to her feet. “I need to finish my pie.”
“Not with that hand, you won’t.” Happy for any excuse to have his hands on her, he lifted her so that she was sitting on a clear spot on the worktable and took hold of her hands. “This needs cleaning and wrapped properly.” He flicked his eyes up and met her stare. “Look at me, rather than your hand. Or, if you find my mug offensive, try the ceiling.” He wet another clean linen and focused on the cut. The bleeding had slowed but not halted completely.
“I ate. I drank, mostly. I gambled at night and in the day, I visited all the important spots.” He picked up their conversation in order to take her mind off of the blood.
She took a moment to respond. “In France?”
“And Belgium.” All the while he dabbed at the wound, he felt her watching him closely.
“Did you… take a companion with you… to these important spots?”
Nick was relieved that she hadn’t sent him away already. It was a wonder she was speaking to him at all.
My Merry Marquess (Wallflowers Christmas Wish Book 3) Page 5