by Lexy Timms
Evie was on the verge of tears then. Not just from the pain, but from the fact that Alistair was trying to protect her even though a show of insubordination could cost him his job. The job he needed to collect his sick father’s pension. She couldn’t let him risk his job for her. It wasn’t right. This was her problem to solve. A private quarrel that didn’t need to be shared with others.
For a moment she felt Nicholas’ grip go slack, and she wrenched her arm free.
She gave Alistair a smile as she massaged her wrist under the table. “As you can see, I’m perfectly content. Thank you, Mr. Godstone. That will be all for this evening.”
Alistair gave a curt nod and stepped away.
Evie released a sigh of relief. Hopefully Alistair understood that she had meant he wasn’t to come around to her side of the table again.
Beside her Nicholas took a sip of his white wine, glowering at her as he drank. He set the glass aside, his lip curling. “Don’t sit around looking like that, Evie. Pouting doesn’t suit you.”
If only the duke knew that his behavior had her on the verge of tears. “You’re not smiling, either.”
“The woman is the adornment. You are the one to smile, not me,” he said. “So stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’ve wounded you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “As I said before, Evie, you needn’t fear me. I’ll never strike you. Never force you into anything. A pinch here and there to remind you who is in charge is all I’ll ever dole out.”
That didn’t make her feel better. In fact, it made her feel worse. Because he didn’t need to strike her to cause her harm. Tonight was supposed to be a happy night for them, but all she felt was pain.
“Anyway, I suggest you give our guests the show they’re here to see,” Nicholas went on. “Wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea about you and the butler.”
This time, Nicholas’ subtle threat didn’t sound so empty. If he decided to set his sights on Alistair’s job, he would be sacked. As a duke, Nicholas was at the pinnacle of the nobility. If he could ruin her powerful family, there was no telling what harm he might cause Alistair and his family. She had to protect the Godstones.
It was with the Godstones in mind that she decided that, for the rest of the dinner, she would be sure to look like one half of a blissfully happy couple.
Chapter 10
ALISTAIR WANTED TO kill the Duke of Rothford. Or at the very least, take the smug, arrogant bastard outside and give him a thrashing he would never forget. Though he wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to bloody the duke’s nose so much, he was certain the duke deserved at least that much.
From his vantage point near the sideboard, Alistair could see Evie chatting with the Dowager Duchess of Rothford. Despite that tense exchange of words several minutes earlier, Evie was now smiling as she spoke.
What had that tense conversation even been about? He couldn’t really be sure. One moment he was reminiscing with Evie, and then she was gasping in the next moment. Followed by the duke speaking to her in the harshest of tones. Though Alistair hadn’t heard what the Duke of Rothford had said, he had seen the distress on Evie’s face. That had angered him. No man should ever speak to a woman the way the duke had spoken to her. But she had smiled and assured Alistair that she was fine.
Alistair had lived among the upper class long enough to interpret what that smile had meant. She hadn’t wanted to draw attention to the argument. Evie had been trained to hide her pain and pretend that all was well.
This was the second time he had seen her in distress over the duke. While he didn’t know exactly what the cause of her pain was, Alistair was now certain that Nicholas Forbes was the source of it. Though he hated walking away, the only reason he had left Evie’s side had been because she had requested it. Something in her tone and in her eyes had told him that she would have been in even more danger if he hadn’t retreated.
But that didn’t mean he was going to stop trying to protect her. He gestured to a passing maid.
“Offer some of this to Miss Smythe,” he said, reaching for a bottle of champagne.
The maid took the bottle from him. “Right away, sir.”
He lifted his hand to stop her and lowered his voice. “If you can, try to stand behind Miss Smythe. Keep the champagne bottle with you to refill her glass.”
“Of course.” The maid paused, seeming to sense more. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“If Miss Smythe or the Duke of Rothford appear...agitated, report back to me immediately,” he instructed.
“Yes, sir.” The maid gave a nod and headed over to Evie’s side of the table.
While he wasn’t sure what had angered the duke earlier, Alistair suspected that it was his own presence near Evie that had set the man off. For whatever reason, the duke hadn’t taken much of a liking to him tonight. Perhaps sending another servant would help to calm things and keep Evie safe.
As he began to direct the servants to serve the main course of wild rice with duck in orange sauce and roasted potatoes with lamb, Alistair kept his eyes on Evie.
She was accepting the champagne with a smile, and the duke seemed less agitated than he had before. Maybe that was a good sign that the couple had patched things up. For now. If the duke’s harsh tone was anything to go by, Alistair was sure that the calm wouldn’t last.
The guests began to eat the main course, and the maid holding the champagne bottle dutifully stood behind Evie.
With the main course served and Evie seemingly in better spirits, Alistair started to prepare the rest of the servants to bring the final dessert course into the dining room.
As he gave out instructions, Evie’s father the baron stood up at his place at the head of the table. His wife the baroness tapped a fork against her glass to call for quiet, and a hush fell over the guests.
The baron raised his wine glass. “Friends. Family. Thank you all for coming this evening. It fills me with great joy to welcome you all to Smythe Manor. Just as it fills me and my wife with great joy to welcome the Duke and Dowager Duchess of Rothford to our home. It would bring us great pride if our two families become one united family in the near future.”
The dowager duchess lifted her glass, but her face looked as sour as ever. Her son, meanwhile, at least managed a smile.
“To my daughter Evelyn and to His Grace, Nicholas of Rothford,” the baron said loudly.
All the guests raised their wine glasses to toast to the couple. Though the baron hadn’t said in so many words that Nicholas was courting Evie, there was no doubting his intent. Nobles might not speak as plainly as other people, but the baron had made Evie’s union with Nicholas seem all but inevitable.
That sent a sharp pain through Alistair’s chest. He was awfully close to losing a woman he had never even had. Evie made his heart stop beating every time she stepped into a room, yet he couldn’t ever tell her.
Through the pain he forced himself to order the servants to serve the dessert of chocolate and hazelnut cake, éclairs, and cups of coffee.
Finally dinner came to a close, and the baron and baroness started to lead the happy guests out of the dining room.
“I’d say that was a success.” The maid from earlier with the champagne bottle approached him to start clearing half-empty wine bottles from the sideboard. “Don’t you think so, sir?”
“Yes. You all did very well,” Alistair returned.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, sir. It’s like you know the manor backwards and forwards as they say,” she said as she moved away.
As the guests filed out of the dining room, Evie and Nicholas appeared to be hanging back.
Alistair watched them discreetly as he started to collect the ice buckets. Evie stood up and the duke took her hand. Nicholas glanced over in Alistair’s direction and narrowed his eyes. Evidently the duke had noticed Alistair observing them. With a sneer, Nicholas seized Evie and fused his mouth to hers for a hard kiss.
&nb
sp; When he was finished, the duke released her and gave Alistair a triumphant grin before whisking Evie out of the dining room.
Instead of the jealousy he had felt earlier, Alistair felt pain for Evie. That wasn’t the way a man kissed the woman he loved.
After hearing the way the duke had spoken to her, Alistair no longer trusted all that he was seeing. Alistair wasn’t going to let this go now that he knew something was very wrong between Evie and her soon-to-be husband. He wasn’t going to stop until he found out exactly what the problem was. Once he knew, Alistair was determined to hold the duke to account. He hadn’t figured out how yet, but this wasn’t over. Evie’s oblivious, power-hungry parents might not be able to see that their daughter was in pain, but he could. And damn it, now that he had decided it was his job to protect her, Alistair wasn’t going to let anyone separate them this time.
“LAST NIGHT’S DINNER was a smashing success.” Her father set aside his newspaper and reached for his mobile phone.
Evie stared down at the croissant she had been tearing up. Last night with Nicholas had left such a bad aftertaste that she had no appetite for breakfast. No appetite, but her heart practically jumped at her father’s rare show of approval. “Yes. Everything went well.” Of course, he would never thank the servants for their hard work during last night’s dinner.
Her father snapped his fingers at a nearby footman and motioned to the butter that lay no further than a foot away on the dining table. The butter was close enough to reach, yet he wanted someone else to fetch it for him. “And where is that beau of yours?”
“He’s out playing tennis,” she replied.
Though her family often ate breakfast in one of the morning rooms, her father had insisted on having a celebratory breakfast in the dining room. However, with Nicholas and his stepfather playing tennis, and both their mothers getting their beauty rest, it was just her and her father eating breakfast this morning.
Part of her was relieved at Nicholas’ absence. For the first time since the dinner, Evie felt like she could breathe. His presence had been so stifling last night. All of it ending with a kiss that had left her feeling hollow.
Evie had kissed Nicholas many times, but before he had started to show his true colors at the manor she had found his kisses satisfying enough. Now that she had seen his viciousness up close, she would rather not have to kiss him again. A huge problem to have with the man she was supposed to marry.
Not to mention, despite several months of courtship, she and Nicholas had never actually consummated their relationship. Sex had been taken off the table at the duke’s insistence. He wanted them to wait until their wedding night the way couples were expected to in the old days. Nicholas had assured her that waiting would make her more likely to get pregnant. She had thought it rather romantic at the time, but now Evie felt relief. And dread. Because eventually their wedding night would come and she would have to do the deed. With a man she was starting to resent.
“Ah. Well, it’s good for a chap to get his exercise,” her father said as the footman lay the butter out in front of him. “Clears the mind.”
“Yes,” Evie said blandly.
“Speaking of athletics, your mother suggested we begin preparing for the manor’s next event,” her father said.
“The annual boat race,” she murmured. With Smythe River so close by, her family had sponsored the nearby town’s boat race every year since the early nineteenth century.
The sound of approaching footsteps distracted her from their conversation and she saw Alistair striding up to them. Her heart began to pound at the sight of him. There was an understated masculine grace to the way he walked. With forceful precision. In his role as a butler, everything about him seemed carefully honed.
He came to a stop by her side, and his towering presence over her made her stomach flutter.
Alistair bowed his head, reached for the discarded newspaper, and tucked it under his arm.
“Ah, since you’re here, Godstone, you’re to start preparations for the boat race,” her father said.
“Certainly, Lord Smythe,” Alistair said.
“You’re a strong man, so I want you to start by getting some of the old boats out,” her father said. “We have plenty of antique boats and trophies from the old days stored in the attic somewhere. It will be good to share some of the history of the race this year.”
Alistair nodded. “Consider it done, my lord.”
“Oh, and since you’re new to the job, get Evelyn to help you,” her father suggested. “She’ll know her way around the attic.”
Her treacherous heart jumped at that. A chance to spend time with Alistair was all she truly wanted after last night’s awful dinner. Just the thought of being near him sent a thrill of excitement down her spine.
“I’d be happy to help,” she said, hoping that her father didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. If he realized how much she wanted to spend time with Alistair, her father would undoubtedly take back his suggestion. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I’m free this morning,” Alistair informed her.
“Well, my breakfast is finished,” she said, getting to her feet.
Alistair looked down at the ripped-up pieces of croissant on her plate. His eyebrow went up ever so slightly, but he said nothing. “If you will excuse us, my lord.”
Her father was now staring at the screen of his mobile phone, and so waved a dismissive hand. “Very well.”
Evie followed Alistair out of the dining room.
“Meet me at the bottom of the stairs in fifteen minutes,” he said, in a tone that sounded far more like an order than a suggestion.
That sent another tingle of excitement racing down her spine. For some reason, watching him take charge of situations was enough to get her pulse racing. She nodded, then went to her bedroom to freshen up. After that, she did as instructed and headed to the bottom of the manor’s main staircase.
True to his word, he reappeared fifteen minutes later with a torch light in hand.
But that wasn’t what made her quiver. Gone was Alistair’s black suit jacket. With the jacket removed, he was down to dark trousers and the crisp white shirt that was so form-fitting she saw the definition of his muscles underneath.
“Shall we?” he prompted, walking up to her and rolling up his shirt sleeves.
As his sleeves went up she caught sight of the strong, rippling muscles of his forearm.
“Miss Smythe?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Oh bloody hell, he must have seen her staring at him. She’d been salivating at the sight of so much muscle, she was sure of it.
She swallowed hard. “Follow me,” she forced out before turning around to head up the stairs.
It took some time to walk up the spiraling staircase and finally reach the top floor. As she moved down the dark hallway towards the attic door, she struggled to catch her breath. But Alistair didn’t seem the least bit winded as he strode up to the attic door and opened it to let her inside.
Evie flipped the light switch, weak light from the dim bulb barely penetrating the darkness.
“Lucky we have this,” Alistair said, turning on the torch light.
A beam of bright white light illuminated the way before them.
“I haven’t been here in months.” She glanced around the huge space, trying to remember where all the old boating equipment had been stored. “I do remember the Christmas things being stored over to the right.”
The attic was full of dust-covered odds and ends from decades, even centuries, ago. From antique furniture that would need considerable work if it had any hope of being salvaged, to gifted figurines that her mother had hated. There was even an old claw-footed bathtub off to the side. Most items were stored in boxes, but the larger things had been crammed one on top of the other to make room.
Evie tried to move deeper into the attic but Alistair stepped out in front of her, his arm out to prevent her from taking another step.
“What are
you doing?” she asked with a frown.
“Wouldn’t trust the floorboards,” he said. “Let me test them ahead of you.”
“Mr. Godstone, you could break your leg if you did that,” she said.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. The dim light cast shadows over his face making his dark eyes even darker and giving his features an angular masculinity. Even in a dusty old attic he looked devilishly handsome. “So could you if I don’t test the floor.”
“And why are my legs more important than yours?” she demanded.
“There’s no way for me to answer that without accidentally layering far too much innuendo,” he said.
Her indignation melted away and she laughed. Alistair was letting his guard down again, and she was already enjoying it. Evie was finding that he could be rather playful when they didn’t have an audience scrutinizing their every move. “Oh, so you like my legs, do you?”
“Miss Smythe, answering that question could get me sacked,” he returned. “And incidentally, so would allowing you to break those lovely legs in question.”
“Then I suppose that means you’ll be my protector this morning,” she joked with a smile.
“Not just this morning.” He turned to look at her, the heat in his eyes so unmistakable that she trembled. “Always, Miss Smythe. Always.”
Chapter 11
ALWAYS, MISS SMYTHE. Always.
He really shouldn’t have said that. It had been a very dangerous promise to make, especially out loud. But they were the kinds of words that a man couldn’t take back once he’d said them. Even if he could take them back, he didn’t want to. Alistair couldn’t allow Evie to suffer alone. He had to show her that he was ready to protect her from the duke if she needed it.
Evie’s dazzling blue eyes widened in surprise. “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Mr. Godstone, it’s my father and my future husband who are supposed to be my protectors.”
