Outrageous

by Minerva Spencer

  He’ll never love you. He doesn’t even want to marry you—and he certainly doesn’t want to have a child or family with you.

  I’m not looking for love—I’m not even looking for marriage, and certainly not with a man like Godric Fleming.

  Oh, Eva.

  The voice was so sad it actually made her stop and think; was she looking for love?

  She growled at the foolish thought. You don’t know the first thing about what I want, she foolishly accused her own mind.

  If your father’s offer is indeed your only dream, then why is there any question about your decision at all?

  Eva gritted her teeth against the infallible logic. Godric made a similar offer—he even mentioned having an aunt who’d bred horses. So the decision isn’t between having my dream or abandoning Godric. I can have horses and Godric.

  Yes, but Godric made that offer when he thought the two of you would be forced to marry. What do you think he would say now, Eva—now that he might not be doomed to a future chained to a woman whose children he never wants to have? Or perhaps you think the marquess gave Godric the same choice to shab off as he’s given you?

  Eva knew her father wouldn’t have given Godric that choice. She held both their futures in her hands.

  The relentless voice in her head had one last question: So, what do you think Godric would do if he held both your futures in his hands?

  Eva closed her eyes, but that offered no reprieve from the truth: if Godric had been given the same choice as she, Eva would already be rolling away in a carriage with her father.

  The door to the parlor opened and Eva’s head jerked up.

  Tommy strode in and shut the door with a decisive click. “I need to speak to you,” he said, his voice almost harsh. In the five years she’d known Thomas Byer, she’d never heard anything but flippancy, amusement, and mockery from him. The man looking down at her with dark, unsmiling eyes bore no resemblance to the Tommy she knew.

  “Of course, Tommy. Please, have a seat.”

  Unlike her father, he’d not bathed or changed since his arrival, and his face was taut, dusty, and tired as he dropped into the chair the marquess had just vacated. That was another thing she’d never seen before: Thomas Byer looking anything less than immaculate. The man was almost prettier than she was, and he certainly took more pains when it came to grooming his magnificent body and handsome face. He was, in other words, a dandy. But not today.

  “You cannot throw away your life like this, Eva.”

  “I’m not—”

  He lifted a hand in an imperious gesture. “I know you can be the most stubborn creature on earth, but now is not the time to allow your willful nature free rein.”

  Eva scowled. “Why do—”

  “I realize saying something like that is the best way to get your hackles up, but you know I am speaking sense. Come away with your father and me. I’ll take care of you.” He hesitated. “It would be my honor to take care of you. You don’t need to marry Visel just to avoid scandal. In fact—” His cheeks flushed. “In fact, I forbid it.”

  All the confusion she’d been feeling at his words coalesced into anger, like a boiling pot converting water to steam. Here was yet another man who thought he knew what was best for her.

  “It may surprise you to hear this, Lord Byer, but I don’t want to be taken care of. Indeed, it may surprise you to know I’m tired of being treated like a slobbering infant.” He opened his mouth but she raised her hand. “And it particularly might surprise you to know that I am capable of making my own decisions.” Her eyes narrowed at the open skepticism that flashed across his face before he could hide it.

  Of all the arrogant, conceited, obnoxious—

  “I am not saying you are incapable of making your own decisions, Eva. I am saying you are dreadfully outmatched when it comes to pitting your wits against Visel. This is the same man who goaded Gabe to violence.” He paused, his patient, long-suffering expression only making her more furious. “This is the same man who mocked you—your incipient madness—at every opportunity these past few months. You are not thinking clearly, Eva.”

  “When did you become so knowledgeable about what I think, Tommy?” He flinched at the heat in her tone. “The only thing you know about me is what you see or what I’ve told you. You like my exterior well enough—just as a great number of other men do.” His sudden flush told her that was a home truth. “As to anything beyond that, the only things I’ve ever told you about myself are superficial—my love of horses, my hatred of balls and fussy gowns. The truth is, you know nothing about me and yet you are prepared to make one of the most important decisions of my life—for me. Your arrogance is simply breathtaking. I would never presume to do the same thing to you—”

  “That is because I’m a man and you are a young girl barely out of the schoolroom—”

  “A girl, Tommy? Is that what you are thinking when you look at me? Is that how you would treat me if I were to accept your offer to take care of me? Like a girl?”

  His already flushed face turned a dull red as he absorbed the unmistakable tenor of her words.

  “Very well,” he said, “I do want you as a man wants a woman and have done for quite some time.” The flash of heat she saw in his eyes was unmistakable to her, now that she’d seen a similar look in Godric’s. Tommy wanted her—wanted to do the same things Godric had done to her. Yet the knowledge gave her no joy. Not like thinking about Godric.

  Tommy laid a hand on her shoulder. “But that is a different point, Eva. As to the situation that you are in right now? Well, when it comes to worldly matters, you should defer to those with more—nay, with any—experience of the world outside of nineteen years in the country and one Season in town.”

  She jerked away from him. “You have no right to—”

  “Will he give you children, Eva? Will he give you a family?” he asked harshly. “You needn’t speak. I know he won’t—I can see the answer on your face. He is afraid of the very blood that flows through your veins.”

  The words were like the blow from a club. And they were all the more painful because she knew they were true. “How dare you?”

  “I dare a great deal because I love you, Eva, and I have done almost from the first time I met you.” The air rang with his startling declaration. His face—handsome, familiar, belonging to a person she’d thought she knew—was that of an impassioned stranger. For the briefest moment, she thrust her angry indignation aside and ached for him, for the love she saw reflected in his eyes. She ached because she knew she could never return it.

  A week ago she might have thought she could love him—but that was before these few days with Godric. Before Godric, she hadn’t even known the depth of emotion she was capable of feeling for a man. After all, other than a brief period of time when she’d mooned over one of her father’s grooms—a stout, scrubby-looking man who’d been as glorious as a centaur on horseback—she’d never felt the slightest twinge of interest for a man.

  But now? Now she knew she could never return Tommy’s affection.

  Eva struggled with the anger that still threatened to overtake her at his arrogance, instead considering the man before her. Tommy was her dear friend and deserved her kindness right now.

  He leaned toward her, his gaze dark and intense. “Come with me, Eva. Let me take care of you. Let me cherish you as you deserve.”

  “But, Tommy, I don’t love you.”

  Rather than stop him, her words made him smile. “You like me well enough, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do, but that’s—”

  “Love will come in time, Eva. I know it. Besides, you don’t love him either, so that doesn’t—” He stopped, his handsome eyes widening as they fixed on her face, all the color that had built in his cheeks slowly draining away. “My God, Eva. Tell me you aren’t so foolish as to believe you love him?” He gave a derisive snort. “Whatever you feel for him is infatuation, Eva, nothing more. This marriage would be a tragedy for you, can�
��t you see? He fears the strain of madness he believes runs through your veins. You are tainted to him. He despises not only your family, but who and what you are. Even if you do love him, he would never, ever love you and would—”

  “That is quite enough, my lord.” Eva’s entire body shook with rage at a lifetime’s worth of having to listen to others tell her how she felt, or how she should feel. “As foolish as my feelings may or may not be, they are none of your concern. You’ve made your point—and your feelings—clear. Trust me when I say both are greatly unwanted. Now, I beg you will take your advice, your love, and your person out of my sight.”

  “Eva, I didn’t mean—”

  She turned her back on him.

  There was a long moment of silence, and then she heard his booted feet and the opening and closing of the door.

  Eva commenced furious pacing. How dare he? How dare he presume to say such things to me? To—

  To what? To tell you the truth? That Visel never wanted you as a wife? Do you really need somebody else to tell you that?

  It’s not the truth! It’s not!

  Eva knew she was behaving like a child. There was only one person who could tell her whether it was the truth or not.

  One way or another, Eva would get an answer out of him.

  Chapter 21

  Godric wasn’t surprised to find Byer waiting for him in the room he shared with Andrew.

  He gestured to the small table with two chairs. “Please make yourself at home,” he said sarcastically, carrying the bottle of brandy and two glasses that he’d fetched from Norton and setting them on the table crowded with various arquebus parts.

  Thankfully, the boy had gone into town with the marquess. Godric had been looking forward to an hour or two of peace before Andrew got back to their crowded little room. But here was Byer.

  “I want a minute in private with you, Visel,” Byer snapped behind him.

  Godric turned and held out a glass, amused by the other man’s expression of surprise. “I had surmised as much, Byer.” When the other man reached for the glass, Godric pulled it back and gave him a look of mock confusion. “I’m sorry—did you want a drink, as well? Or did you mean you wanted a moment in private with me at twenty paces first thing tomorrow morning?”

  Byer scowled at Godric’s laughter and snatched the glass from his hand. “You really are an ass, aren’t you?”

  “Probably,” Godric said, taking a sip of liquor and savoring the burn before lowering himself into the room’s only comfortable chair.

  “Do you even have the capacity to feel shame at what you’ve done?”

  Godric sighed. “Is that what you came to talk about? My defective character? You’ll need more than a minute for that.”

  “Everything’s a joke to you, isn’t it?” Byer slammed the untouched glass down on the nearest table. His expression of pure dislike should have looked foolish on his tired, dust-smudged face, but his filthy, wrinkled appearance somehow made his loathing all the more potent.

  Godric found the sight of Byer’s dishevelment interesting. The man was a notorious dandy who’d always paid more attention to his wardrobe than most women did. Also, Byer was famous for his torpid temperament. Indeed, it had been difficult most of the time to believe Byer had a pulse. And yet here he was, positively deranged with jealousy. He’d been smitten by his best friend’s sister, who apparently viewed him as nothing more than a brother—if her reaction to him earlier was anything to go by. Lord, how that must sting.

  Godric felt a pang of sympathy for the other man, although he doubted Byer would appreciate his voicing that sentiment.

  “Do you really need to ruin her life? Just let her go.” Byer’s tone was rough and rude, but Godric could hear the pleading tone beneath the command. “You don’t really want her—her blood would sully the great house of Tyndale. And you’ve never done anything but insult her, so I know you can’t actually like—not to mention love—her. You wanted to kill her brother and abduct her dearest friend. All of that adds up to your being a disaster of a husband for her. And I’ve not even begun to take into consideration the disaster that is you. Your outrageous behavior this past Season was that of a dangerous wastrel, and your infamous whoring—particularly with other men’s wives—and the low, wretched company you keep, all point toward a life that will end in violence sooner rather than later. You don’t want a wife, Visel, and you wouldn’t know how to do right by one if you had one. So let her marry a man who will love and protect her. A man she might actually come to love.”

  “Who would that be?” Godric teased with a mocking grin. “You, I suppose? Indeed, she likely loves you already—how could she not as you are such a self-proclaimed paragon of masculine perfection.”

  Byer’s pale, sharp cheeks tinted and he gritted his jaws so hard Godric was amazed that steam didn’t come out of his ears. He knew he should stop teasing the man, but the truth was he found Byer’s insistence on knowing what was best for Eva insulting and irritating.

  So, your pride has been stepped on, rather than any feelings you might have for her?

  Godric ignored the annoying inner voice, a skill born of decades of practice. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the man across from him, who appeared to be on the verge of flying apart. He tossed back the remains of his drink and set it down on the table before standing, the action bringing them to within a foot of each other.

  “Tell me, Byer, aside from your wardrobe and unreciprocated love, just what do you have to offer her?”

  “She might not love me—yet—but at least I would give her children and a family.” Byer sneered. “Will you? Answer me honestly. Are you even capable of having feelings for someone other than yourself? I’m not saying that you were always like this, but I think we both know you are not the same man you were before the war. You are useless for anything other than killing and war. You’re an empty husk of a man with nothing but revenge fantasies to keep you waking up each morning.”

  Godric’s jaw had sagged slightly at the other man’s audacity. He was about to tell him what he could do with his interfering ways when a slight movement caught his eye: the connecting door to Eva’s room had been eased opened. It was so small a crack that he wouldn’t have noticed it if he’d not actually been looking in that direction. Godric doubted the person on the other side could actually see him or Byer, but they’d be able to hear every word. There was only one person he could think of who would be listening.

  Now is your chance to do one good thing for her. Byer might be a puffed up fop, but he is right about one thing: any other man in the country would be better for her than you will be. It might cause a moment of pain, but you could ensure she makes the correct choice with only one small utterance. Say it, Godric.

  For once, the voice was not mocking.

  “She told me she didn’t wish for children,” Godric blurted, ignoring the sound mental advice he’d just received.

  Byer gave an ugly laugh. “Well, she would, wouldn’t she? After all, you’ve made it plain all Season—to all of London—what you think of her bloodline. She’s hardly going to tell you the truth.”

  Godric felt his face get hot, all the more so because the other man was right. He’d behaved like a pig and had no defense for it. And what Byer didn’t know was that he’d continued to let her believe the same lie even while engaging in bed sport with her these past few days.

  Godric opened his mouth to dispute the ridiculous claims, as he should have done days ago.

  But then Byer said, “Even if mistakes were made or you actually condescended to give her children, you would never love them, would you?”

  Carl’s face rose up in his mind as it had looked the last time Godric had seen it: cold, pale, and lifeless. He expected to feel the familiar, gut-wrenching pain, but instead, he felt nothing: he was as dead inside as the son he’d left buried a continent away.

  “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? Or will you just wantonly ruin her life as you tried to do
to her brother and friend? Or perhaps she was next on your list for revenge?”

  Godric met the other man’s furious eyes. Behind Byer’s rage, there was fear and hurt: he loved Eva with all his heart and he was fighting for her.

  He was fighting as Godric should be fighting—if he loved Eva.

  If you loved her.

  Godric swallowed the bile that almost choked him and summoned the hard, cold, supercilious smile that had been his mask every day of this past Season. “You’ve uttered a home truth, Byer: I don’t want children.” His gaze flickered across the cracked door, and then he took another breath and said the only thing he deserved to say, “And even if I did wish for children, I’d not want mad ones.”

  Godric could have ducked Byer’s fist, or guarded against the hit, but he stood still and let the man knock him on his ass.

  His head rang as he lay on his back and smiled bitterly at the ancient beams holding up the ceiling, waiting for more punishment—hoping for it.

  But the other man was looking down on him with disgust, as if he’d not even soil his boot by kicking him.

  Godric didn’t blame him. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “If you believe she will have you, Byer, then I will gladly step aside. If she wishes to wed you, I shall shower you with rose petals and do my part to make sure this entire incident never sees the light of day. How’s that for an offer, Byer?”

  Byer’s face was a mask of loathing. “You are a pitiful excuse for a man, Visel,” he said, flexing the pain out of his right hand. “And you are certainly not worth a sore hand.”

  Godric could not agree more.

  “Was there anything else?” he asked in a bored, insulting tone that would have guaranteed a dawn meeting in most situations.

  Byer’s handsome face flushed a dark red and his nostrils flared. “No.”

  “So why don’t you get the hell out of my room and get on with your happy new life.”

  Byer pivoted on one foot, not giving him another look before striding toward the door and slamming it behind him.

  Godric’s entire body was hot and his pulse was pounding in his temples—and not just from the punch to his face.