* * *
Everly remained where she stood as Asher stormed out of the room.
She told herself the meeting had been a success, yet her stomach was in turmoil. She wasn’t sure what part of their conversation gave her worry, but it was there. It burned inside of her, telling her that she might have made a mistake.
When she’d originally thought of what to say to Asher, she’d assumed he’d have very little to say in return. She’d never imagined he’d have a little speech of his own, full of declarations and vows.
She tried to shake off the worry that engulfed her as Ruth showed her to her room and helped her undress.
* * *
In the morning, Everly woke rested and, as she dressed, she recalled that Valiant had said she wouldn’t be joining them for the morning meal. She wanted to knock on her friend’s door to see if she was all right, but then again, she didn’t want to disturb her.
It took an hour to decide what to wear. How did one dress when they wished to confront their accuser?
She decided on a pale-yellow muslin that she believed would declare innocence on even the most scandalous of women. The neckline was high, the bust loose. There were very few frills or ribbons. Everly usually wore this dress when she went to do charity at the homes around her own in the country.
She’d not been to the country residence she’d shared with her family in quite some time, however, she had a servant who saw that the ill families were provided a basket of food and her well wishes.
Dressed, she allowed Ruth to style her hair in a simple bun and then began to write a letter to Lady Preshea, who often took charge of the classes at Everly’s home when she was not there. She wanted to know what matter was being discussed. She also wished to know how Miss Fairchild was progressing in her cosmology studies. Half of the time, Everly had no clue what the woman was going on about, but she didn’t care. She was only happy to provide a free place where one could study and experiment to their heart’s desire.
Once the letter was complete, she went downstairs.
Asher’s London residence was immaculate and seemed to showcase glimpses of the art and history that one would find at the castle.
Oak had been laid in a geometric pattern that ran through the entire first floor and up the gilded staircase. Caryatid pillars stood erect around the balcony. Old men seemed to beckon guests to stare into their eyes.
She noticed a lightning bolt in one statue’s hand. A triton in another.
Gods.
She smirked, recalling the masquerade ball and Asher’s costume, but then her expression fell when she remembered what had happened later that night. Had her entire life truly been turned around only days ago?
∫ ∫ ∫
1 8
Everly arrived in the breakfast room only to witness a maid clearing away the space at the end of the table. “Have I missed the meal?” she asked.
“No, my lady. I’ll bring your meal immediately,” the maid answered, never pausing in her task.
“And His Grace has already eaten?” she asked, though it was clear he had.
Yes.” The maid started toward the hidden door that led to the kitchen. “Quicker than usual. He’s in his office.” Then she was gone.
He’d been quick about his meal? Was he avoiding her?
Again, her stomach rolled at the thought.
She barely tasted anything the maid brought her but was glad for the coffee. She allowed its smooth aroma to settle her as she thought of the plans for the day.
There was Lord Fallen to confront and then there were the other women on her list. Everly also wanted to see her cousin and tell her about what had taken place.
And she’d have to do it all with Asher.
She once again resented her predicament. She wanted to be free of him and on her own once more.
Finished with her second cup, Everly went in search of her temporary warden.
A footman showed her into his office. She found Asher busy at his desk.
Last night, she’d barely had time to look around the room.
Now she did.
The colors were very masculine. Midnight blue paper with golden weaving lined some walls while mahogany bookcases lined others. The floor was carpeted a rich beige color. Burgundy chairs and settees were placed strategically around the large desk that dominated the room, telling her that it was a room that had held many gatherings and not just business meetings.
The fireplace behind the desk was lit. White marble flanked the flames and curved into the mantle.
The Curbain crest was just above, done in a mixture of rich wood and metal.
It was a beautiful room.
But at the moment, her focus was on the man who owned it.
Unease settled over Everly. How would they react to one another after last night?
He looked up. “We’ll depart in an hour. That should be enough time for Valiant to ready. I’ve a few other things I wish to see to today after we meet with Fallen. I trust you and Valiant will be fine on your own for a short period of time?” She found his visage to be entirely unreadable. He leaned back in his chair. “I know what the constable about us remaining close, but Valiant can easily step in where I am not needed. I’m sure that will please you.”
Was he upset?
Did it matter? Asher was not for her. No man was.
“Yes, that will do. Is Lord Fallen home?” she asked.
“Yes. I had a servant see if he was in residence,” Asher said. “Will you be ready in an hour?”
A new fear filled her, and this one was focused solely on what Fallen would reveal at their meeting.
She licked her suddenly very dry lips. “Yes.”
He nodded and then bent his head back to his papers.
* * *
Asher told himself during the drive not to care that Everly was clearly very distraught.
He told himself to keep his eyes elsewhere as she fidgeted in the seat across from him but turning his eyes to his sister had hardly been any better.
They’d just passed the Beaumont residence, and just like last night, his sister drew within herself, becoming uncharacteristically quiet.
Asher didn’t know what to do about either woman in his company, but after realizing his sister needed his comfort, he took Valiant’s hand just as he had in the hack.
Just as he had whenever she’d cried as a child. For years, he’d seen her contentment as part of his duty to her.
Contentment, but not love.
She and the Earl of Beaumont had not been a love match, but both had agreed to the marriage and had seemed to enjoy it for the most part.
Love had never been a factor for marriage in Asher’s mind. He and Mary had been just as content as Valiant and the earl, but Asher had never strayed from the marriage bed.
Love had not become a factor until Lady Beatrix had made it so when she’d proven her love for his brother Hero. She’d been willing to sacrifice her own contentment and ultimate happiness for Hero’s.
Love flowed between them just as it did between Lore and Brinley.
And in the last few months, he’d realized just what had been missing between him and Mary. There’d been a few lingering looks or whispered words in dark corners. He’d rarely made his wife blush outside the bedchamber.
They’d been the perfect society couple, yet both had held to their own obligations, rarely running into the other unless purposefully done.
Lore followed Brinley around as though he were a lost puppy.
Hero spoke of Beatrix as though there were no other subject in the world.
Asher believed that if Mary had lived, they might have grown into that.
Valiant squeezed his hand and looked at her. Just as she’d done the previous night, Valiant gave him that soft smile.
He tried very hard to keep his feelings from his family, finding that it helped him see what was most important, yet he could not deny his love for Valiant. He’d been nine when she was born, and he’
d always thought her perfect.
He looked over at Everly to find her eyes upon him. She gave no clue to her thoughts, and she turned away before he could see anymore.
Her dress made her look like a debutante. She looked guiltless. There was not the faintest flicker of evidence to the fiery woman he knew her to be.
Had she dressed this way in an effort to make herself less attractive to him?
He wished it had worked, but he knew there was little she could do that would quiet his longing. The only thing Asher could do, and planned to do, was keep his vow.
No more advances. He’d not even touch her. Remembering his plan, he turned away.
He now wished to end their arrangement as soon as possible so that he could return to the way he’d been, hiding his feelings and himself away from her.
At Lord Fallen’s home, the butler tried to deny that his master was in residence, but one look at the footman Asher had sent to watch over the house told him otherwise.
Lord Fallen was indeed home. The butler was lying.
Anger made the cords in his neck tighten.
“Tell Lord Fallen that the Duke of Ayers will see him now or I will be pressing charges of my own,” Asher said. “Starting with the sullying of an innocent woman’s name.”
The butler’s trained expression remained unreadable, but his body went rigid before he bowed and said, “Come in, please, Your Grace”
They walked inside and waited in the foyer. The butler returned and showed them to a sitting room.
Fallen’s eyes flashed at the sight of Everly. “Your Grace, I didn’t know you planned to bring her here.”
* * *
Upon seeing the man who’d identified her as the thief—who she now knew to be Lord Fallen—Everly had assumed she knew what her first reaction would be.
Anger.
The night she’d been carried away, she’d not had a good look at him, but now the day was bright, she took in his every detail.
He was a man of average height with dark blond hair and ominous blue eyes. The lack of definition in his jaw and cheeks would have made him look like a cherub were he not scowling. He looked like a sulking child.
And as far as Everly was concerned, only she had the right to sulk.
She prepared for her anger to blind her, consume her, and readied her tongue to deliver a quick and decisive lashing.
But as Fallen pointed his finger at her, all Everly felt was fear. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Wait!” Asher cut her off and then turned his gaze to Lord Fallen. She believed that in the last minute, the duke had grown somewhat. He looked vicious, though quite elegant, a feat that most men could never pull off. “Lord Fallen, I’ve come to you so that we may come to some form of an agreement.”
“There will be no agreement.” Fallen, who’d stood at their entrance, sat back down. He didn’t invite his guests to join him, which was a clear statement that they were not welcomed. “That woman is a criminal and will pay for what she’s done.” She noted that he didn’t seem inclined to gloat. He was simply stating facts.
“I’ve done nothing—” Everly was cut off yet again.
“The diamonds,” Asher began. “Your diamonds were stolen?”
“Yes,” Fallen said. A servant brought in a note, and Fallen squinted his eyes over the letters, having to lean in close to see them. Then he shook his head, dismissing the servant, and turned back to his guests. “I said as much, and I’ve a dozen witnesses that will testify to that fact. I wanted to gamble at higher stakes. They saw my pouch and its contents on the night of the ball. Only the pouch was found.”
Everly’s heart fell. She’d hoped that the diamonds had all been a ruse.
“How many diamonds did you have?” Asher asked.
“Enough to be worth far more than Lady Everly can afford to pay.” Fallen narrowed his eyes at her as he leaned back in his chair.
“That is a mighty sum,” Asher said. “The jeweler who sold them to you much have been quite pleased to do business with you.”
Fallen looked bored. “Naturally.”
“I need the jeweler’s name,” Asher said as he crossed his hands behind his back.
Something flickered in Fallen’s gaze, and he immediately stiffened. The action could not be missed.
Everly wondered where Asher’s questions would lead.
∫ ∫ ∫
1 9
Fallen swallowed and tried very hard to return his expression to something close to blasé but failed. “The jeweler? Whatever for?”
Asher thought it was clear, but since Fallen wished to play coy, he would explain himself. “We need to know where the diamonds came from.”
“Why?” Fallen stood. “They were mine! What does it matter where they came from?” He looked angry, enraged even, but Asher could see that it was not rage at all.
He knew rage. He knew pain and deep sorrow. He also knew when someone was lying.
He’d had three younger siblings, after all.
Hero, when he’d been a boy, had tried very hard never to lie, yet when he did, he could never meet Asher’s eye.
Lore had been the best of them all. He’d lie and smile and no one would be the wiser… unless his plans failed somewhere down the road.
Valiant had rarely had to lie. She rarely heard the word no. With her large blue eyes and blond ringlets, she’d had the entire house wrapped around her little finger.
But on the rare occasion where she broke something, Valiant played innocent or confused.
Fallen’s style was closer to Lore’s. In the end, what Lore was doing was covering his fear with happiness. After all, one usually only worried about small accusations when one was guilty.
And though Asher didn’t know what Fallen was guilty of, he knew he was guilty of something.
So, Asher would start with how the man had procured the diamonds.
“You claim Lady Everly stole your diamonds,” Asher said. “But how do we know if they were yours?”
“Inconsequential,” Fallen said. “Everyone saw me with them.”
Asher smiled. “Nothing about this case will be inconsequential, not with my involvement, Lord Fallen.”
And it appeared for the first time that Fallen was seeing Asher for who he was.
The Duke of Ayers.
He may have only taken the title two years ago and had yet to make it the name his father had, but it, along with all his power and influence, was his.
“The judge who sees this case will wish to know that the diamonds were truly yours,” Asher said. “Otherwise, in no way will the daughter of an earl be found guilty for the crime.”
Everly turned to him with a questioning look.
Asher ignored it and continued to speak to Fallen. “You came to my town. You claimed one of my friends a criminal. Your case will need the strength of an army to win.”
Fallen sneered. “I have witnesses who saw the diamonds.”
“And to the crime itself?” Asher asked, already knowing the answer.
Fallen stood. “It will be her word against mine.”
Everly blessedly kept her lips shut.
Asher shook his head. “No. It will be your word against mine, for I am one of her witnesses.”
And in all likelihood, his testimony would be all that mattered.
Fallen paled.
“I’ll expect your footman to send a note with the name of the jeweler by this evening. If not, you’ll receive another visit from me.” Then Asher turned to Everly and Valiant and said, “Shall we?”
* * *
“Oh, how grand,” Valiant said as they were seated once again in the carriage. She’d begun praising her brother’s heroic speech the moment they’d stepped outside of Lord Fallen’s home and didn’t seem prepared to stop any time soon. “You are, in fact, the noblest man I know. I can’t believe you are my brother.”
Asher looked extremely uncomfortable with his sister’s admiration. Color had settled on his cheeks, and he av
oided her eyes.
He also avoided Everly’s.
As she tried to calm her own nerves, Everly fought to understand what had taken place in Fallen’s home. Everything Asher had said had been quite unexpected and… just as grand as Valiant said.
Though Everly hadn’t found the words to express her gratitude, she silently joined Valiant in her awed state.
And for the first time since it all began, Everly was certain she’d be all right. It was easy to conclude that Asher’s testimony—as the Duke of Ayers—would not be worth challenging.
Asking him to do so had never crossed her mind.
Though they’d spent much of the evening of the ball together, Everly would have had plenty of time to steal the diamonds and hide them without him being aware of it. So, for Asher to say he’d testify on her behalf… It meant more to her than he could possibly fathom.
By declaring her innocent before a judge, Asher would be aligning his name with hers. His credibility. His honor. If she were found guilty, it could hurt his reputation.
And then there was the fact that he couldn’t say definitively that she didn’t do it. All he had was her word.
And he trusted her.
Without even questioning her about that night, he trusted her.
Everly didn’t know what to do with such a gift. It had never been given to her before by a man. Her father had only ever trusted her when it came to his grand parties. Otherwise, she was female, which equated to nothing more than a child—sometimes creatures even lower than that, like a dog.
For years, he’d driven into her mind that she was not to use her own judgment, but his. She was to do as he demanded. Thinking for herself was a punishable offense in her house.
So much so that by the time he’d finally died, Everly had been lost. She’d been a woman without identity, because he’d driven it out of her.
It had taken years for her to discover who she was. She’d had to learn to trust herself, something she saw to be innate in other girls, even the ones who were ultimately in the care of a man.
She’d been so afraid of losing herself again that she’d decided not to marry.
The Perfect Duke (Valiant Love) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 9
