The Greatest of Sins

by Christine Merrill

  ‘Are you going on about that again?’ her father said with a sigh. ‘Really, Evelyn, you must realize that this is no business of yours.’

  ‘It is my business,’ she said and allowed her lip to tremble. Then she pinched the needle prick on her finger, which gave a fresh throb of pain and made her eyes water. ‘Because I love and care about …’ she paused to gulp back a sob ‘… both of the men involved.’ Let her father think it was not just Sam that she sought to help. She gave him a hopeful smile through the tears. ‘St Aldric would be most grateful, I am sure. He has told me often, in candid moments, how sad it is to know that nothing else of his father has survived. He would welcome any family that he might find.’

  ‘It is not up to me to make such decisions,’ her father said a little less confidently. ‘I promised, when the boy was merely a baby …’

  There. The tears were doing the tick. He was almost ready to admit the truth. ‘Any oaths spoken to the old duke can no longer be binding now that both he and his duchess are dead. It is only Michael now. And he is so very alone. If his father had known that telling him would be a mercy, I’m sure he would relieve you from your oath.’

  This approach, which did not seem so focused on Sam’s happiness, was having its effect. She could see her father’s resolve fighting with his desire to impress the duke. ‘There are other things that would make St Aldric happy, you know. He will not be alone with a wife and children.’

  ‘He will have those,’ she said dismissively.

  ‘When?’ her father said, bringing the conversation to a halt. ‘You know what he wants, Evie. And what I expect from you. He has waited for months, yet you will not give him an answer.’

  ‘I will, soon,’ she said. But perhaps she would not have to. Sam clearly thought himself unworthy. If it was because he lacked money or status, surely it was better to be half-brother to a duke then a barely acknowledged ward.

  ‘Soon, you say? Then I will tell the duke about his brother, at that time.’

  ‘So! You admit the truth, then?’ It was hardly a victory if he admitted it to her, but would not tell Sam.

  ‘Yes,’ her father said, with another sigh. ‘I fulfilled my part of the bargain by seeing to it that the child was educated and launched in a profession. And by keeping my mouth closed, until you came to me, to pry it open.’

  ‘I knew it. I had but to look at them together to be sure.’ For a moment, her own triumph overcame all else.

  ‘And now, I suppose, you think you can blurt the story to them at the first opportunity,’ her father said, with a disapproving shake of his head.

  ‘I will, if you will not,’ she said, stamping her foot like a child.

  ‘And you will hurt them both. If they must be told, as you think they must, it should be done quietly, privately, and by me. It will be shock to both men, even if it is a favourable one. I have documents to show that this is no idle claim and there can be no doubt in the minds of the parties involved.’

  He was right. Random assertions by her would mean nothing. She must allow her father to do it in his own time. ‘As long as it is done soon,’ she said.

  ‘I will do it when you agree to end this nonsense of indecision.’ He was looking at her directly, obviously unmoved by her histrionics. ‘I have been far too lax with you, Evelyn, and have only myself to blame for this. You are behaving like a spoiled and wilful girl. In all other things I might demur. But in this, I will remain adamant. You are my only child and all that remains of my beloved Sarah. You are my heart and my life. I cannot sleep easy until you are settled. And for you, nothing less than a duke will do.’

  So this was the impasse. She had known there would be a day when all the girlish wheedling she could manage would not be enough. And it had finally come. Father would release the truth, if she surrendered her hopes.

  She weighed the situation as rationally as she was able. Both St Aldric and Sam would know their connection. They deserved it. On their last meeting, Sam had made it quite clear that she could wait for ever and never have him. He expected her to marry the duke.

  But he had also kissed her, which negated his other behaviour.

  She would accept the duke, as her father wished. Betrothed was quite a different thing from married. Many things might happen before they got to the altar.

  Then she would write to Sam, tell him of her intentions, and give him one last chance to stop the engagement. If he did nothing, she would go forwards, just as Father wished her to. There were many things right with having Michael as a husband, but only one thing wrong. The fact that she did not love him was hardly an obstacle. She would love only one man in her life. If she could not have him, better to choose someone that she liked.

  But everything must be accomplished soon, before Sam took it into his head to leave London for Scotland or the sea. She took a breath, held it for a moment and committed to a plan.

  ‘If you promise that you will tell them both, I will accept St Aldric the very next time he suggests it, which is likely to be tomorrow evening.’ Now that she had agreed, it was simply a matter of scheduling and giving Sam a strict timetable in which to change his mind. She glanced at the calendar on the writing desk. ‘We shall have an engagement ball next week. The banns will be read starting next Sunday. The ceremony shall follow shortly thereafter. The whole business shall be settled by next month, if that is to your liking. As long as you swear to tell them.’

  Her father was looking at her in amazement, as though trying to decide whether to upbraid her for setting standards or show the happiness he felt at getting his way.

  ‘It is all I want for a wedding present from you,’ she coaxed. ‘And I doubt I would keep the secret for long, now that I have wormed it out of you. I am but a woman, you know.’

  He smiled in response to her joke, though she was not being the least bit funny. ‘You are probably right. You are a fickle creature, my dear, and I cannot expect you to keep mum. Accept the duke and set a date for the engagement ball. Invite Hastings to it and we shall settle it all on the same night.’

  Chapter Seven

  ‘I do not wish to alarm you, Lady Evelyn, but there is an enormous spider crawling on your shoulder.’

  Without thinking, Eve reached to brush it off, realised that she felt no such thing and stopped to stare impolitely at her dance partner.

  St Aldric smiled affectionately back at her. ‘I have managed to gain your attention at last, have I? A point for me, then. And minus one for you. When faced with such a horror, a young lady is expected to shriek and throw herself into the arms of the nearest gentleman. She is not supposed to settle the matter for herself.’

  ‘I … am sorry.’ She tried to remember where they were in the pattern of the dance, so that they could continue without a misstep. She had managed to march through it so far without thinking. But clearly the duke had noticed that he did not have her full attention.

  ‘Is there anything the matter?’ he asked.

  Yes. Everything. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I am merely distracted.’

  ‘As always, you know to call on me, if there is something I might do to aid you.’ He was giving her a surprisingly direct look. Though it was still masked in his characteristic smile, she was sure that he was actively concerned with her and would truly do anything, should she ask.

  Let me go. And make Sam love me again. Now there was a request that one did not make of one’s future fiancé. Besides, she was not even sure the second half of it was possible.

  ‘Was your visit with your old friend a disappointment?’ St Aldric asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter. ‘You seem changed since he has come. More sombre.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ she repeated, forcing a smile. ‘I will try to be more cheerful.’

  ‘Do not change for my sake,’ he said. His hand, when next it took hers in the dance, gave hers an encouraging squeeze. ‘You cannot help what you feel. But I take it that your Dr Hastings was much altered since you saw him last. That is bound
to be disappointing.’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. Confusing would have been a more accurate way to describe it. There had been nothing disappointing about his kiss.

  She glanced at St Aldric, who epitomised disappointment in that particular area. She was being unfair to him. His kisses were as polished and correct as everything else about him. Perhaps it was some flaw in her own character that left her untouched by them.

  He continued to smile at her.

  She smiled back and felt a wave of the kind of sisterly affection that Sam had tried to thrust upon her, until she had broken his will. This was what it was like, to feel nothing for a man, but to like him well enough not to wish him pain.

  ‘And now that you have seen him, is your mind altered on the subject of our marriage?’

  ‘I … don’t understand what you mean.’ She tensed and missed a beat, though he corrected easily to compensate for it. The duke had caught her flat footed, again, both in mind and body. She had not expected his next proposal to include any mention of Sam.

  His smile was more sympathetic than jolly. ‘I am not so dense as all that, Evelyn. You had a tendre for the man. I expect you lost your heart to him at a very young age. And that is not an easy thing to forget.’

  ‘You are too perceptive,’ she said. ‘It is your only fault.’ That was not true. He did not miss a beat when they danced. He was never nonplussed or flustered. If perfection was a flaw, he had it in spades.

  ‘I will work to rectify it, once we are married,’ he said. ‘If you agree to wed me, I shall be as dense as you wish me to be.’

  Was he giving her permission to be unfaithful to him? Surely not. But she could not help but think that, when one’s heart lay elsewhere, there might be certain advantages to a husband who had announced his willingness to turn a blind eye.

  If she had wanted that sort of a marriage, she should be satisfied with the response. But it was likely to destroy the respect she had for him, knowing that he did not care enough for her to be hurt by infidelity.

  She thought again of the interlude in Sam’s room and tried to focus on the end of it, when he had claimed it nothing more than unworthy lust. On his part, perhaps it had been. But she would have happily died in his arms to give him the peace he requested.

  As long as it had occurred after a consummation.

  ‘Will there be any response to my comment? Or are you to keep me guessing?’

  ‘Comment?’ She dragged her mind away from Sam and glanced back at the duke again.

  ‘On my willingness to conform to any demands you might set, should you marry me.’

  He had made the offer that she had promised to accept and she had been so preoccupied on thoughts of another that she had not heard him. This did not bode well for the future.

  ‘I will offer in another way, if you seek something less businesslike. There could be moonlight, candles and your pick of the jewels in my lock room. I could purchase something new for you, if you do not fancy them. I will get down on one knee. Although I have no experience in it, I will serenade you. Write poetry. I will do anything to see you smile. But you know my feelings on the subject of matrimony. I am eager to hear yours.’

  Father was right. She had kept him waiting long enough. If she truly wished to have Sam’s approval, it had been given, repeatedly. He proclaimed St Aldric an excellent match. He had also told her, emphatically, that there would be no marriage between the two of them.

  Then he had kissed her. Her mind kept coming back to that. She suspected it would, for the rest of her life. Just as she had spent six years thinking of the last kiss, she might spend sixty on this one.

  Would the memory of that be enough to sustain her, or would it become a bitter reminder of how a marriage might feel, if it was to the right man?

  It did not really matter. Sam had thrust her from the room and was probably still planning to leave the country. And all because she had forced him. If she continued to do so, she would lose his friendship along with his love.

  She turned to St Aldric, this time with her full attention, or very near to it. ‘I am sorry. I never meant to be cruel to you, or to keep you waiting so long. You are right. It is time that I answered.’

  To her surprise, the man at her side looked eager to hear her response. And there was a flicker of doubt in it, as though he was not sure what it might be. She had been so focused on herself and her own wishes that she had been tormenting him with her indifference.

  He deserved better.

  ‘Of course I will marry you. At the time of your choosing.’

  ‘A special licence is the thing, I understand,’ he said. ‘Brides all want them, to show that the groom is ardent and has some pull with court. I will procure one. But the actual ceremony need not be hurried. We must allow enough time to celebrate the event …’

  He continued to plan, as eager as a bride, while Eve retreated to a place where life was simpler, endings happier and kisses as passionate as she knew they could be.

  Sam roused to the sound of a knocking at the door. Or perhaps the hammering was in his skull. It was no less than he deserved. Life at sea had inured him to strong drink. But the quantity he had taken in the last day and a half was enough to send a sailor’s brain to pounding.

  ‘Doctor Hastings.’

  Without another thought he was out of the bed, his hand on his case of medicines. ‘What is it? Am I needed?’ He shook his head to clear it, ready to face whatever emergency awaited him.

  ‘Nothing so dire, I’m sure. There is a letter for you, sir.’ The innkeeper waited nervously in the hall, a liveried footman from Thorne Hall beside him.

  Probably a cheerful missive from Evie, expecting him to dance attendance on her, as though nothing had happened between them. But he would not forget the sight of her, kneeling between his thighs.

  He shook his head again, harder, and let the pain it caused be a distraction. The girl was far too headstrong for her own good. And naïve as well. The best way to protect that innocence was to stay far away from it. Sam rubbed a hand over his dry eyes. ‘Whatever it is, tell him he can take it to the devil.’

  The footman looked alarmed, but did not budge. ‘I am to put it into your hand directly and wait for an answer, Dr Hastings.’ Tom had been an underfootman when Sam had left the Thornes. He had been younger than Evelyn, no more than a child and already in service.

  Had she chosen him for this, sure that Sam would remember the boy with sympathy and not wish to give him trouble? She was a demon to torment him with tricks like that. But it was another proof that she knew him as well as he knew himself. He sighed. ‘Very well, then.’ He held out his hand for the letter. ‘Wait.’ Then he closed the door on the pair of them and broke the seal.

  He could recognise the hand in an instant, for he had seen it often enough, coming to both love and dread her regular letters. It appeared this one could not be avoided. He could not very well climb out a second-storey window in an attempt to get away from it, and by sending Tom she had made it impossible to deny its receipt.

  Sam.

  He held his breath. The start was innocent enough. But there was not a thing he could stand to hear from the girl, after the shame of what had happened between them.

  Firstly, let me apologise for coming to your rooms and upsetting you as I did. I had no right and no invitation.

  And no reason to apologise, since the fault and the sin had been totally his.

  I must offer a second apology for trying to control the course of your life and choose your future to suit myself. I have no doubt that you are quite capable of surviving without me. It is pure selfishness on my part to try to manage you.

  But I beg you, with all my heart, not to return to the sea. Above all, do not go there on my account. I swear, I will do what is necessary to keep you safe, even if that requires me to cease communication with you.

  Dear Evie. She was frightened for him and willing to do anything to preserve his unworthy life. He felt the tightness in his
chest, half-joy, half-regret, that came with any thought of her. He smoothed the letter in his hands and read more.

  On your recommendation, and that of my father, along with the continued requests from the duke himself, I have agreed to St Aldric’s offer of marriage. To celebrate the engagement, Father is giving a ball this coming Wednesday. I must remind you, you promised to attend. And despite all that happened after, I hold you to that promise.

  Damn the girl. He had promised. And despite what reason demanded, he did not want to go so soon.

  If it is truly your wish that I marry, I need your strength to help me carry it through. And if, for any reason, it is not, then you must tell me before that time.

  I await your answer …

  Et cetera.

  For the first time in her life, Evelyn Thorne had done exactly as he’d told her to. It was a trap, of course. She’d finished the letter with a reminder that he might stop the proceedings at any time. He had but to ask and she would cry off.

  And in that, she had created the perfect hell for him. It was no less than he deserved, he supposed. He had revealed all to her, or as much as he ever would. Now that she knew he had feelings for her, she sought to inflame them with jealousy. He had given her reason to hope, even as he had pushed her away.

  But before that, he had approved her match and promised to attend her wedding. As her older brother, he owed her as much. If he did not want her to think of him, ever again, as anything more than that, he had best learn to play that part.

  He went to the table, took up his pen and wrote.

  Evie,

  You have nothing to apologise for. It is I who am at fault. As to what happened yesterday, it is best that we never speak of it again. I will forget if you shall.

  As to my going to sea again? It is clear that this distresses you. My plans are not set. If it is so important to you, I will forgo the navy and practise on land.

  But be damned if he would go to work for St Aldric. That was too much to expect of him.

  As to your wedding, I am supremely happy for you, and send my congratulations to his Grace as well. I will remain in London and attend your engagement ball and wedding, just as I said. You have my word. Eagerly awaiting the day that I might call you her Grace, instead of my dear little Evie …