“Isn’t Nick available?” Aubrey mused. “He’s got a way with the shy ones. His sense of humor never fails to put them at ease.”
“Yes, I’d quite forgotten that his arrangement recently ended. I think Evelyn would like him.”
“Nick is all wrong for her,” Hugh ground out, his left eye beginning to twitch with the effort to maintain control of his emotions. “They would never suit.”
His friends exchanged amused glances, seeming to communicate without speaking. It only served to further annoy him.
“You know, I think he’s right,” Benedict said. “What about James? He’s fairly new but seems to have a way with the virginal ones. I always said he could come to be as good as Hugh with time.”
“Not him,” Hugh interjected before Aubrey could answer.
“I cannot see why it should matter when you’ve decided to be done with her,” Aubrey pointed out. “Unless...what you want is to not be done with her.”
Hugh pounded his fist against the table, rattling his brushes and sending paint-stained water sloshing from the bowl. “I will be done with her, but that doesn’t mean I want her handed off to just anyone. She deserves—”
He bit his tongue, knowing he’d nearly revealed too much. These men might be his friends but admitting what he truly wanted to either of them would be a terrible mistake. He couldn’t let himself say it aloud...not when he knew it could never be.
“It sounds to me as if you don’t want her handed off to anyone at all,” Aubrey murmured, a heavy measure of pity filling his gaze. “Will you not even admit to yourself that you love her? We’ve seen you with her, Hugh, we see the way you look at her. You’ve always been the romantic one, but this woman is different.”
No, he could not admit it. Admitting it would damn him, and he was barely keeping his head above water as it was. He cared for Evelyn. But, love? Love was for people who could last. It wasn’t a temporary emotion; it was permanent and eternal. And there was nothing lasting about his arrangement with Evelyn.
“She is paying me for the illusion of love,” he insisted, forcing himself to accept the words he spoke as truth. “It is what I do, what I’ve always done. I give them my attention and my affection; I make them believe it is real until our time is up and I move on. I’m very good at it, as we all know…that doesn’t make any of it real.”
Benedict opened his mouth as if to protest, but the sound of shuffling feet from across the room stole their attention. Hugh snapped his head up, his gaze falling on the slight figure standing in the shadowed doorway. The lamplight illuminated Evelyn’s face, her wide eyes brimming with unshed tears, her lips parted as if in shock. She wore his dressing gown, which she held closed over her chest with a shaking hand.
His heart plummeted into his gut, his blood running cold as he realized she had to have been standing there long enough to hear more than he’d ever intended for her to.
He straightened, steeling himself to chase her, to go after her when she inevitably turned away, dismissing him from her mind as well as her life. His friends seemed torn between leaving them here and staying to help smooth things over. A crying woman in a room filled with men was never a good thing.
She stood there for a long, tense moment, her accusing gaze falling on him, the conflicting emotions of anger and sadness warring in her eyes.
Benedict stepped forward, breaking the silence. “Miss Coburn, I—”
“It is good to see you again, Mr. Sterling,” she said, her voice low and strained, though she remained composed. “Actually, I am glad you are here. You see, I’ve decided that the time has come for my arrangement with Mr. Radcliffe to end. Now, I can also assure you that no further services are needed. I got what I paid for, and there is no need for the three of you to stand around discussing who I might be passed off to next.”
Hugh stumbled around the table, suddenly unable to feel his legs. He’d gone completely numb save for his pounding heart which ached like the very devil when he noticed the hurt radiating from her gaze and making her chin tremble.
“Evie, it wasn’t like that,” he managed, grappling for words—any words that would convince her it hadn’t been as mercenary as it had sounded.
Raising her chin a notch, she pinned him with a look that made him feel lower than dirt. “It hardly matters, does it? I paid you for a service, and you delivered. What else is there?”
Everything, his mind railed. There’s the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you but have been too afraid to say so for fear you did not feel the same way.
“Miss Coburn, we meant no offense,” Benedict tried again. “I only wanted to be prepared in the event—”
“Ben,” Aubrey snapped, giving a swift shake of his head to silence their friend.
While Benedict was all professionalism when it came to the Gentleman Courtesans, this was not business. This was Hugh’s life falling down around him, his heart being pulverized into bits.
“I wish you the best of luck with the Exhibition, Mr. Radcliffe,” she said, her voice cracking as her composure began to slip. “I hope it brings you everything you ever wanted.”
She turned and fled, disappearing from the doorway on swift feet. Hugh simply stood there, struck dumb and rendered motionless. His friends seemed determined to look anywhere but at him, the tension of the moment only growing worse now that Evelyn had left the room. It was Aubrey who snapped him out of the haze of disbelief, one hand coming down on his shoulder.
“You’d better go after her,” his friend murmured. “Before it is too late.”
That spurred him into action, as he realized that he’d had it all wrong. He’d seen it all in her eyes the moment he glanced up to find that she’d been listening and had been hurt by his words. He hadn’t realized it before because he’d been blinded by his own insecurities, his worry that their connection was completely one-sided. But, he’d witnessed her unshed tears, the pain his ill-timed words had caused. They weren’t the last things he wanted her to have heard him say. She had to know how he truly felt.
He dashed out of the studio and up the stairs, knowing he had at least as long as it took her to dress to plead his case. He nearly tore his bedroom door off the hinges, entering the chamber to find her in her chemise.
“Evie,” he pleaded, closing the door and coming into the room. “Let me explain.”
She huffed a dry, humorless laugh, glaring up at him as she finished off her laces. “Explain what? There is nothing for you to say...at least nothing we don’t both know to be true.”
He reached out for her, but she batted his hands away, turning her back to retrieve her gown and step into it. She went without stays as she often did when coming to him, making it easier for her to function without the help of a lady’s maid.
“I never meant for you to hear any of that.”
“Why not?” she huffed, shoving her arms into the sleeves. “It’s the truth, is it not? And here I’ve been deluding myself thinking that this was different somehow, that you actually cared, and that I—”
She went silent and shook her head, fumbling at the back of her gown to close it.
“I do care, Evie,” he insisted, stepping forward to help her.
She let him, going still and lowering her head as he took his time closing the gown. The longer he took, the more time he’d have to explain himself.
“I tried not to,” he continued. “I didn’t want to, but you...you’re different.”
“Oh yes, I suppose you find me ever so special,” she spat. “What was it you called me? Oh, yes, there was ‘beautiful,’ and I believe you even called me ‘magnificent’ once. And all that rot about me being made of all the good things others wish they could be...God, if a career in art does not pan out for you, you ought to consider becoming a poet. You are good, Hugh...you are as good as Benedict told me you’d be.”
He spun her to face him, taking hold of her shoulders. “I meant every word I ever said to you from the beginning. But, I never believed it could
last...our arrangement was only ever supposed to be temporary—”
“Right, and now it has ended just in time for you to move on to your true passion. I do thank you for rendering your services with such skill. I did not want to die a virgin, and now I will not. I wanted someone to make me feel desirable, and you did that, too...almost too well. But it is not your fault I saw things that were never really there, or that I forgot what you are and what it is you do.”
“God damn it, Evie, I have never been with any woman the way I have been with you,” he cried, tightening his hold on her. “It never felt like a job with you, and you were never just a keeper to me. Every bit of it, the things I said, the things we did, the way we felt—”
“Lies!” she bellowed, shoving him away. “Illusion! You said it yourself, Hugh, creating that illusion is what I paid you to do. I have just told you that our arrangement is over, so you can stop now. You are no longer being compensated for it!”
“That wasn’t the way of it, and I think we both know that.”
Shaking her head, she finally allowed her tears to fall, one fat droplet racing down her face and off the edge of her chin. Another followed, and then another, each one making him feel as if someone were sinking a dagger deep into his chest.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” she whispered, choking back a sob. “And to walk into that room and hear you talking with your friends about who will take over when you are finished, as if...as if…”
He reached out to swipe away a tear and cup her cheek. “I wanted to tear this entire house down to its foundation at the thought of another man so much as looking at you. The way I feel about you...it is terrifying and wonderful all at once. But it is real, all of it has been real.”
Reaching up to grasp his hand, she pulled it away from her cheek and dropped it to hang at his side. Shaking her head at him, she blinked and released another tear.
“And now, it is over.”
She whirled to retrieve her slippers before rushing from the room, leaving behind her spencer as well as her manuscript, which lay on a table near the hearth. They’d been reading The Mad Baron together between sessions in the studio, and they’d gotten through nearly half the book. He rushed past her forgotten belongings, determined not to give up yet. This couldn’t be how things ended between them. Not with her in tears and him feeling as if someone had reached down his throat and pulled his heart out through his mouth.
His voice echoed through the house as he gave chase. “Evie! Evie, wait...please!”
She paused at the bottom of the stairs but kept her back turned to him as he leaped down the final few steps.
“I am going home,” she declared, her back rigid and her gaze fixed upon the front door. “You are not to contact me ever again. You may tell Benedict to expect the balance of what is owed for your services tomorrow.”
Dash it all, she wouldn’t even look at him. She had become a veritable fortress, her posture and demeanor telling him everything he needed to know. Anything he said now would fall onto deaf ears, and she would not believe a word of it.
“At least let me escort you home,” he offered, resigned. “It is late and I want you safe.”
She turned as if to reply, but Aubrey appeared in the studio door just then, his expression set in stone.
“I will see her home. That is, if it’s all right with you, Miss Coburn. It would truly be safer for you with an escort.”
Evelyn sighed, her jaw tightening as she seemed to mull that over. “Very well. It isn’t far...we can walk.”
He traded glances with Aubrey, who gave him a nod of reassurance before trailing after her. The door closing behind them resounded through the vestibule like a death knell, its echo rippling through his being with a startling finality.
He’d lost her. It didn’t matter that he’d already prepared himself to part ways with her. He hadn’t wanted it to be like this, and in truth, he hadn’t wanted it to end at all.
But, this wasn’t the end. He told himself that it wasn’t over until he had exhausted every means of winning her back. She was angry now, but perhaps in time he could convince her to give him a chance to prove himself. There would be no contracts or arrangements, only him earning her trust and her love with persistence.
Benedict joined him in the vestibule, looking both apologetic and somber. He clapped a hand on Hugh’s shoulder with a heavy sigh, steering him toward the open door of the small salon across the corridor.
“Brandy,” Benedict muttered. “We’re going to need lots of brandy.”
* * *
Evelyn held her head high and squared her shoulders, determined not to fall to pieces until she could closet herself away from the world. Aubrey was making that difficult with the probing glances he kept leveling at her. He seemed prepared for her to erupt into a fit of tears at any moment, which only made her determined not to give in to the torrent of emotion ripping through her.
Aside from anger and grief, she also carried with her a heavy dose of embarrassing shame. How foolish she had been to allow herself to believe Hugh cared for her. She’d been wrestling with herself for weeks over how to tell him she loved him, certain it would only lead to him reminding her that their arrangement had nothing to do with love. Well, she’d just been reminded in the most stunningly painful way.
Our arrangement is as temporary as all the others have been…
Arrangements must be made to keep her happy…
She is paying me for the illusion of love...that doesn’t make any of it real.
Her throat constricted as she recalled every humiliating word, and the moment she had realized that she’d been duped. Oh, she had known better, hadn’t she? She’d told herself so many times not to let herself fall in love with Hugh, that she’d only get her heart broken once she remembered that every sweet word or considerate action from him was nothing more than a service for which he was being paid.
She had known this from the beginning and ought not be surprised now that she’d been reminded of it. So, why did she feel so wretched and betrayed? Why did she feel as if she might die from how acutely her heart ached?
“Here.”
Aubrey’s voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to find him extending a handkerchief to her. They’d been walking at a swift pace but had since slowed and Evelyn was mortified to realize she’d begun to cry again.
She accepted the linen square, using it to dab at her heated cheeks. She must look horrible, her face flushing an unattractive shade of red from weeping.
“I am very sorry you overheard that,” Aubrey said when she gave him back his handkerchief. “But, as Hugh said—”
“Please, she croaked. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear another word about what Hugh said or did. We had an arrangement that suited us both for a time, and now it is over.”
They turned onto her street, and Aubrey fell silent for the rest of the walk, both hands clasped behind his back as he shortened his long strides to keep pace with her. Her entire body ached as if she’d been pummeled from all sides, and all she wanted was to climb into her bed and pull the bedclothes over her head so she could weep in peace until she fell asleep. Perhaps she’d stay abed for the rest of her days, until she wasted away to nothing. It wasn’t as if anyone would miss her. Most people in this accursed city didn’t even know she existed.
They came to a stop before her townhouse, where Aubrey turned to face her as Joseph opened the front door.
“Thank you for seeing me home,” she said with a small smile. “You’ve only ever been kind to me, and I thank you for that, as well.”
Aubrey took her hand and bent over it, pressing a swift, chaste kiss to her knuckles. “There is no need to thank me. I know Hugh may not deserve your forgiveness, but...as his friend I can honestly tell you that he wants it. I don’t know anyone capable of feigning the sorts of feelings I can see he has for you. When you are ready, perhaps you might give that some thought.”
Without waiting f
or a response, he turned and went back the way he came, leaving Evelyn standing in the glow of the lamplight coming from inside. She made her way to her room with each step growing heavier and heavier. Evelyn felt as if she might collapse at any moment, but she managed to reach her bedchamber where Patience waited near the hearth, curled up with a book in her lap.
At the sight of Evelyn, she rose to her feet and let her book drop to the floor.
“Miss, what’s wrong? You look as if you’ve been crying.”
Evelyn stumbled farther into the room with a sob, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. “Oh, Patience, I...it’s over...I can’t…”
Patience crossed the room in a blink, taking Evelyn up before she could collapse onto the floor. She leaned on her companion, who over the years had also become her dearest friend. She allowed herself to weep now, unable to stop the torrent as it came pouring out of her, shaking her body with harsh sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Miss,” Patience crooned, stroking Evelyn’s back with a soothing hand. “I thought the two of you were getting on so well together.”
So had Evelyn, but she’d been mistaken. A naive fool. Hugh had made himself clear from the beginning, but she had allowed the execution of his duties as her courtesan to make her think otherwise. It didn’t matter how good and how right it had felt, not when she’d heard him say with his own lips that it had all been a farce.
Certainly, he had insisted to her face that it had all been real. But, how could she trust that? He’d said those things to his friends thinking she wouldn’t hear them, which made them more than likely true. Of course he’d tell her what she wanted to hear in person.
Letting Patience help prepare her to bed, Evelyn made no effort to cease her crying. She let the tears fall, wetting her face and neck. Curling up on her side and hugging a pillow against her chest, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to the grief. There was no way around this. Her heart was broken, and she must suffer through this just as she had every other hurt she’d experienced in her life. Only, this wasn’t anything as simple as embarrassment over stuttering when being introduced to a man she’d admired from afar, or being overlooked time and time again. It wasn’t so trivial as waiting year after year for someone to take notice of her, only to find herself turning five-and-twenty without a single prospect.
Portrait of a Lady: The Gentleman Courtesans Book 1 Page 20
