Outrageous

by Minerva Spencer

  Eva was beginning to think Tommy was about as observant as she was.

  “Is there no way I can change your mind about this, Eva?”

  “No.” Eva felt a pang about her bald rejection, but his reaction was not as bad as she’d thought. As she looked at him, she thought he did not appear entirely surprised or disappointed. Surely he, too, must have noticed they were not the people they’d once been. Although he would not admit it, Eva thought he might actually be relieved. He’d gotten the thing he’d spent years longing for—her—and it had proved quite different in reality. Eva’s old nurse used to frighten them all with the adage, “Be careful what you wish for, or you might get it.”

  “I shall come with you to tell your parents,” he said, standing straight, his hands automatically moving to check his cravat, his coat.

  “I appreciate the offer, Tommy. But I’d rather speak to them by myself. I shall tell them you stand ready if they want you.”

  “Are you quite sure?” he asked yet again.

  “Yes.” This time she could see his relief. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Sorry about all this, old man.”

  He nodded, obviously still poleaxed.

  Eva left the library and leaned against the door for a moment. Well, there was that, done. Only another dozen or so people to go.

  “Eva?”

  She saw Dru headed her way and grinned. “I received your message, by the way.”

  Dru flushed. “I’m sorry I sent Gabe to do my dirty work, but I knew he couldn’t stay away from the stables, so I thought he’d be the advance force.” Dru slid her arms around Eva and gave her a firm embrace before releasing her.

  Gabriel’s wife was tall, a good six inches taller than Eva, and she possessed a voluptuous body she’d always disliked. But since marrying Eva’s brother, Dru now wore more flattering—and more revealing—gowns. She was blooming and clearly a woman in love.

  “Do you have a moment?” Dru asked.

  Did she? Well, what was the rush? She could upset the apple cart at any time. “Of course, for you—always.”

  “Shall we pop into the library?”

  Eva grimaced. “Er, perhaps not. Why don’t you come with me to my chambers? I need to get out of this”—she pulled at her skirt—“and go to the stables one last time today.” She put emphasis on those words so she’d not have to argue yet again. But she should have known Dru would not nag her. At least not in her current love-softened state.

  On the way up to her rooms Dru talked about Samir, Gabe’s young son, who’d only this year come to England from Oran. “He is a wonderful little boy, Eva, and your brother is so good with him.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Eva said, opening the door to her bedchamber and ushering Dru inside. “He’s always been excellent with young children.”

  Dru flushed with pleasure—a compliment for her spouse clearly touched her heart. Well, in that, at least, they were of the same mind.

  As Eva stripped off her clothing Dru wandered the room, her motions self-consciously casual, and Eva knew what she was waiting for.

  “I just ended the betrothal,” Eva said.

  Dru whirled around. “Oh, did you? I’m so glad!” Eva laughed and Dru flushed. “I’m sorry, that sounded terrible. You know that Gabe and I would love nothing more than for our best friends to marry. But not if—”

  “Not if they aren’t in love,” Eva finished for her.

  Dru nodded and flopped down into a chair. “Well, thank heaven that is over. Now I can quit avoiding you and enjoy my time here.”

  “Drusilla!”

  “What?”

  “How can you enjoy yourself at a broken betrothal?”

  Dru shrugged. “Well, it’s better than a broken marriage.”

  Eva supposed that was true. “Do you know how miserable it is going to be, breaking this news to everyone? Especially my parents?”

  “Oh, pooh. You and Tommy were the only two who didn’t seem to understand what was happening. I’ve been here less than a day, and the two of you are so nervous around each other it is enough to make a person jump out of their skin.”

  Well, Eva couldn’t disagree with that.

  Dru pushed herself out of the chair. “I can’t wait to tell Gabriel.”

  Eva rolled her eyes. “Please, don’t let me keep you from your enjoyment.”

  Dru laughed. “Lady Exley has planned a picnic down by the folly—will you come?”

  “Is that now? I thought it was tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Eva. It is now—the time of day when people generally have picnics.”

  “Yes,” she said absently, wondering if her parents had already gone down to the lake. “I’ll be down after a while.”

  “See that you are,” Dru scolded. “If I know you, you’re likely to hide in the stables all day.”

  Eva blushed at her friend’s accurate prediction. “I’ll be there,” she promised again.

  After Dru left, Eva headed to her father’s study. Mia was likely already marshalling the troops, but her father was not as enthusiastically social, so she wasn’t surprised when she found him seated at his desk, his head bent as he studied something closely.

  “Father?”

  He glanced up, his powerful gaze hidden by the glint from the spectacles he wore to read. Eva thought it was odd how adding that covering to his gaze somehow made him appear almost vulnerable.

  Unfortunately, he removed the spectacles and set them on the desk. “Come in and sit.”

  Eva clasped her hands in front of her. “Actually, Papa, what I have to say won’t take long.”

  “You’ve ended your betrothal to Byer.”

  Eva stomped her foot before she could stop herself, the action drawing her father’s gaze to her filthy top boots. “How is it that everyone knows?”

  “Does everyone know?”

  “Well, Dru suspected, and I don’t think Tommy was surprised, either.”

  The marquess made that low humming sound that always made Eva think of a big jungle cat, not that she’d ever seen a real one.

  “I suppose I should make some sort of announcement?”

  “Oh?”

  Eva sighed heavily. “Unless you would rather do it.”

  “Rather?” he repeated.

  “Would you please make some sort of announcement, Father?”

  He nodded slowly, picked up his glasses, and put them back on. “Was that all?”

  Eva would never be able to predict what the man would do if she lived to be a thousand years old. “Yes, Father.”

  He turned back to studying whatever it was that so engrossed him, and Eva fled.

  It seemed she was not destined to get far, however, as Mel appeared to be hovering near the grand staircase, with Lord Ramsay’s twin sons standing on either side of her like matching bookends. Matching gorgeous bookends. Good God! Could they be only seventeen?

  Her sister, perhaps a year older than the young men, was looking exceedingly pretty and flushed.

  Well, this was interesting.

  “Oh, Dru said you were talking to Papa,” Mel said.

  “Hallo, Eva,” the twin not wearing spectacles—Lucien—said, his confident smirk telling her that he was already aware of his effect on the opposite sex.

  “Lucien.” She turned to his twin, an almost mirror image but for his glasses and less-than-impeccable clothing. “Richard, good to see you both.”

  “Eva,” Richard said with a slight nod.

  “We couldn’t miss seeing you get leg-shackled, could we, Rich?”

  Lucien’s silent brother merely regarded Eva thoughtfully through his ridiculously thick lenses.

  Eva knew Lucien had been infatuated with her two summers earlier, because he’d followed her around like a faithful puppy, eventually asking her if she’d wait until he was older to marry him.

  Richard had not suffered a similar infatuation. Indeed, Eva had always found Richard’s aloof, level gaze a bit off-putting and far too mature for h
is years. As much as Lucien liked to believe he was a polished Corinthian, he still smacked of callow youth.

  And Richard? Well, Eva wasn’t sure what he smacked of. Although he was slenderer and less eye-catching—for lack of a better word—than his more gregarious brother, he possessed a quiet appeal that was all his own.

  “Did you need me for something?” Eva asked her sister, ignoring Lucien’s amused smirk and Richard’s cool regard.

  Mel visibly wrenched her eyes from Lucien’s tall, blond, godlike figure. “Er, need something?”

  Eva was stunned; how could her sister lurch from one infatuation with a pretty face to another in a span of hours? Was that all it took for Mel to fall in love?

  Besides, for her money, Richard, with his dark-horse ways, was the far more attractive brother.

  Eva blinked—why was she even thinking about any of this? She snapped her fingers in front of Mel’s face to wake her from her trance.

  Mel scowled. “What?”

  “I’m going down to the stables and then heading over to the picnic.” She turned and headed down the stairs.

  “We’ll go with you,” Lucien declared.

  Eva stopped abruptly and Lucien and Mel, who were right behind her, almost piled on top of her.

  Richard, she couldn’t help noticing, hadn’t followed. Instead, he was leaning against the wall, watching them all with a superior smirk.

  Mel was gazing at Lucien, and Lucien was gazing at Eva.

  It was preposterous! Her sister had already begun to form an attachment to a person of the male sex who could not stop looking at Eva. Was it some conscious choice that put Mel in that position?

  Eva didn’t have the time or energy to think about it. “I’d rather meet you both at the lake.”

  Lucien went from looking like an arrogant pink of the ton to a kicked puppy in a heartbeat, Mel looked confused, but Richard looked even more sardonic.

  Eva rolled her eyes and all but sprinted toward the stables, leaving the three to get on with whatever it was they were up to.

  The truth was that nothing critical awaited her, but she simply needed to be somewhere quiet to think. James had taken Clancy back to the squire’s, and Eva felt as if a weight were lifted from her now that the expensive stud was back with his owner.

  The stables were blessedly quiet and Eva slumped into the old chair she had liberated from the piles of moldy furniture that were stored in the east wing of the castle.

  She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, waiting for the familiar sounds and smells of the stables to soothe the chaos in her head. She was weak and exhausted just now, but she’d made the correct decision.

  Whether Mel actually did love Tommy—or whether she was now in love with Lucien—Eva had still done the right thing.

  The question of the child she was carrying—and how she would manage—would not be an easy one to resolve. But then, Eva didn’t have to make every difficult decision all on one day.

  If you’d told your father, he would have made your decision for you.

  Eva knew that was true. If she’d told her father she was carrying Godric’s child, he would have felt duty bound to tell the earl—and then perhaps shoot or stab him.

  She knew her father had meant what he’d said at the inn—the decision was hers. But she also knew the marquess would want her to think very, very carefully before closing off what he would see as the best decision for the child.

  And he was right. All along, Eva had been thinking only of the best choice for her. All she’d done was think about the humiliation of marrying a man who didn’t want her child. But that was selfish; she knew she would need to give a great deal of thought to the matter before ruling out Godric.

  Yes, it would be a humiliating marriage and one devoid of even the little friendship they’d had before she’d become pregnant. She could marry him to give her child a home, but she could not forgive him. And she would need to spend her life guarding her child against his dislike and fear.

  “Ah, Lady Eva—there you are.”

  Her head whipped up. “James—what are you doing here? I thought I told you to take the day off after returning Clancy.”

  “Well, I was going to,” James said, twisting his hat in his hands, “but then I met a gentleman at Sir Walter’s who’d come to talk to the squire about a stud he had to sell.”

  Eva perked up. “Oh?”

  “Yes, quite remarkable, really, from the Godolphin line and an overall fifth.”

  Eva just as quickly unperked. “Lord, James, such a stud is far beyond our touch. Far beyond Sir Walter’s, as well.”

  James nodded vigorously. “I know, I know, but the gent who owned him is proper dipped and in need of quick funds.”

  “How much are we talking about?”

  The figure James mentioned made her jaw drop.

  “There must be something wrong with him?”

  “Sir Walter seems to think he’s solid.”

  “Huh. Well, I hope you got his name and direction so we can—”

  “He’s here,” James whispered noisily, as if the man were outside the stall.

  “In the stables?”

  “No, he’s waitin’ in his traveling coach. I told him you might wish to know more.” He shrugged.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” Eva stood. “I’ll go change into proper clothing and you can—What?” she said, when James shook his head.

  “He’s got a problem and can’t easily leave his carriage—not without some help.”

  “Goodness. Injured like Salford, you mean?”

  James hesitated and then said, “Er, yes, my lady, he’s not so different in some ways.”

  “Ah, well, if you don’t think this would offend his sensibilities?” She gestured toward her clothing.

  “Oh no, my lady. He seems the sort to understand.”

  Eva somehow doubted that, but her desire to talk to the man overrode her already limited patience. “Let’s go meet him—if he is expecting me, that is?”

  “I believe he’d like to see you, my lady.”

  Out in the courtyard stood a magnificent traveling coach, certainly not that of a man strapped for money. But who knew? Some men believed they had to puff off their wealth in order to attract more.

  “Let’s see what he has to offer before we start asking questions,” Eva whispered as they crossed the courtyard. “I’d like to take my measure of him.”

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” James said with almost giddy enthusiasm.

  She grinned up at him as they approached the carriage, which had heavily draped windows. “I think you’re more excited about this than I am.”

  “I think it’s safe to say that’s true,” James muttered as a slight servant in handsome navy and silver livery hopped off the back and came forward to open the door.

  Just then Eva realized she’d never asked the gentleman’s name. She turned to James to ask him just as he lurched down and seized her around the waist. “Up you go, my lady.”

  “James! What—”

  “Hush,” he advised in the same voice he used to soothe horses. “It’ll be just fine. I hope.”

  Too stunned to struggle, Eva found herself being lowered gently onto a plush seat in the darkened interior, the door snapping shut a second later, and the carriage lurching forward.

  “James!” she shouted, but the well-sprung coach was barreling down the drive.

  Eva scrabbled at the heavy drapes that covered the window and ripped them open, exposing the interior of the carriage to the light.

  She turned to the other occupant and gasped. “You!”

  Chapter 26

  Godric thought it was touch and go as to whether she would decide to remove the gag on his mouth.

  Her eyes were like midnight-blue marbles and her fine, slender nostrils flared just like the beasts she so adored.

  “You!”

  Godric couldn’t help grinning around the gag, even though he suspected it was a gruesome—
and likely provoking—sight.

  She used her fist to pound on the roof of the carriage. “James! James! You’d better turn this carriage around or you shall be very, very sorry.” Nothing but the sound of carriage wheels and wind answered her threat and she turned back to Godric.

  “This was your idea, wasn’t it? Some sort of perverse punishment.”

  Godric waited for her anger to settle down. And also for her to remove the bloody gag.

  She opened her mouth—no doubt to scold—and then seemed to notice his appearance.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her dark blue gaze flickering over his wrinkled coat, flattened, stained cravat, and the rope tied around his boots at the ankles.

  When her gaze made the journey back up again, he saw her delicious lips were parted in shock. Godric raised both his eyebrows, the only form of communication left to him.

  She closed her mouth and swallowed, her eyebrows lowering as if she were faced with a particularly sticky and unappealing problem.

  Finally—finally, she huffed out an irritated sigh and leaned forward, her hands going to the thick cotton cloth they’d tied behind his head. The position brought them close, intimately close, but she refused to meet his gaze while her hands worked blind behind him.

  Godric thought she’d lost weight, the lovely bones of her face more pronounced, making her look like a tragedienne. She pulled off the gag and tossed it to the floor.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse from the yelling he’d done—the first day.

  “Turn sideways and I’ll untie your wrists.”

  He obliged.

  “Lord. Who tied these?” she asked in a tone of respect mingled with horror.

  Godric snorted. “Andrew.”

  “No! Really? Why, they are—”

  “Works of art?” he suggested, not bothering to keep the irony out of his voice.

  “Yes, actually. Move over, I’ll need to sit behind you. This might take a while.”

  Godric scooted to the far edge of the seat and she lowered herself behind him, her clothing allowing her to move swiftly and easily in the confines of the coach.

  Oh yes, he’d noticed her clothing—first thing, actually. He was tired and hungry and sore, but he wasn’t blind. Or dead.

  “Who would have guessed Andrew possessed such a skill?” she said.