The Gentleman's Bride Search (The Glass Slipper Chronicles Book 4)

by Deborah Hale

  Evangeline’s weeping eased to a series of sniffles. No doubt she realized she had nothing to cry about now that they understood one another. A happy, fulfilling life stretched ahead of them—one he was eager to begin.

  He fished out a handkerchief and swiped it over her face in the darkness, his touch awkward but tender. “Dry your eyes now, my sweet, and I will do everything in my power to give you no cause for tears again.”

  Evangeline reached up and took the handkerchief from him. She wiped her eyes properly then blew her nose. Her bonnet had slipped back off her hair, allowing Jasper to press his cheek against the silken strands.

  That did not provide enough of an outlet for the tenderness he felt toward her. When Evangeline had finished drying her tears, Jasper cupped her chin and raised her face to his so he might kiss her properly on the lips.

  He began with a soft, almost tentative approach. Part of him still could not quite believe he had been blessed to find love a second time, especially with such a fine woman, who was every inch his match. He marveled that he could still remember how to kiss a woman after years of bereavement, during which he had driven himself in an effort to forget what he was missing.

  But at the first brush of her soft, full lips, it all came back to him. Evangeline’s response, hesitant yet sweetly eager, told him that she had not been kissed by another man. Jasper considered that a precious gift and a treasured responsibility. He sought to make it an experience that would stir her senses and her heart, leaving her without a doubt of the depth of his feelings for her.

  Earlier, Jasper had wished it were day so he could divine Evangeline’s feelings by looking at her. Now he realized sight was far too limited a sense to fully communicate all the subtle complexities their hearts held. He blessed the warm, fragrant summer night that cast a veil of privacy over them, giving the delightful illusion that nothing and no one existed outside the circle of their embrace.

  Then suddenly the gig lurched and sped up as the horse neared home. It dragged Jasper and Evangeline into the well-lit courtyard of Amberwood. A young stable boy must have been watching for the party’s return, He ran toward the gig calling out to them.

  Jarred from the quiet shadows of intimacy, Jasper pulled away from Evangeline and seized the reins. She drew back just as abruptly as he, adjusting her bonnet to cover the chestnut tresses he had kissed only moments ago. It felt like much longer. And it seemed like a whole other lifetime ago they had set out for the village assembly.

  So much had changed since then and a bright new future stretched before them. Jasper could scarcely wait to share their happiness with the children, for he knew they would be almost as delighted as he to make Evangeline part of their family.

  For twelve blissful hours, Evangeline lived in a hazy dream of perfect happiness.

  Jasper’s kiss tingled on her lips. His heartfelt declaration of his feelings and the tender endearments he had addressed to her echoed in her thoughts, drowning out any reluctance. Emotions she had long stifled welled up in her heart, leaving no room for fear or doubt. She knew only that the man she cared for returned her feelings without reservation.

  Her heart seemed to float on air, encased in a delicate soap bubble of shimmering rainbows. She fell asleep with Jasper’s handkerchief clutched in her hand and woke from the sweetest dream to find it still there, proof that the events of the previous night were more than some moonlit fancy.

  The children were already awake and eating their breakfast with Jane when Evangeline emerged, drowsy but smiling, to join them.

  “Did you enjoy the dancing last night?” asked Matthew, his head cocked to one side in a quizzical way that reminded Evangeline of a bright-eyed bird.

  “Very much,” she said, ruffling his dark hair. How like his dear father’s it was.

  “Did you dance with Papa?” inquired Emma in her shy manner that seemed to ask something more. Had the perceptive child sensed the feelings her father and governess had managed to conceal, even from themselves, until last night?

  “Of course.” Brushing Emma’s cheek with the back of her fingers, Evangeline recalled the way Jasper had clasped her hand, as if she were a priceless treasure he was proud to touch with care. “Your father was kind enough to dance with all the ladies.”

  She was the one he had wanted to dance with, though. Evangeline knew he would have claimed her company exclusively, if propriety had not decreed otherwise.

  “I wonder if that is why Papa did not come to breakfast with us this morning,” Alfie pondered between mouthfuls of porridge. “Perhaps dancing with all those ladies tired him out and he needs to rest.”

  “Perhaps so.” Evangeline beamed at Alfie as if he’d made the cleverest remark she had ever heard.

  In truth, she thought it more likely that Jasper did not want the children to see them together and guess their feelings before they had reached an understanding.

  They had been prevented from discussing their future last night by the arrival of the other carriages so soon after them. Not wanting to risk embarrassing Jasper or Miss Webster, Evangeline had slipped away to the nursery before any of the guests noticed her tear-stained face and the radiant smile she could not conceal.

  “You look different this morning.” Owen regarded her with a grave countenance.

  Evangeline tried to quench the hot tingle in her cheeks, without success. “It is probably the effect of my late night—pallor, dark circles under my eyes. That’s one of the reasons it is important to get a good sleep.”

  Owen’s nose wrinkled up in a way that made her want to kiss it. “That makes no sense. You look better... prettier.”

  “He’s right,” Rosie agreed before Evangeline could pretend to dismiss the compliment she secretly cherished. “You look like one of the princesses in my book of fairy tales.”

  Evangeline brushed a kiss on Rosie’s plump cheek, something she did not do nearly as often with her pupils as she would have liked. “I think you and your brother need to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Now, let’s finish eating so we can go for a walk. It is a glorious morning.”

  As they finished their breakfast, Evangeline caught Matthew and Emma exchanging puzzled looks.

  “Are we going to practice more for the concert with Miss Webster?” asked Rosie as they headed off for their walk a while later.

  “Perhaps.” Evangeline smiled down at the child, trying not to betray her uncertainty.

  Would the concert go ahead as planned, with Jasper and Miss Webster singing a love ballad after he had declared his feelings for someone else?

  Evangeline wondered how the lady would react when she found out. Had Margaret Webster come to care for Jasper, the way she had? Of course, she must. What woman with a functioning heart could keep from losing it to such a man, especially if he made the slightest effort to win her? Jasper had gone to great lengths to secure Miss Webster’s affections—even seeking courting lessons to aid his efforts.

  A wave of bilious shame rolled through Evangeline’s stomach. Never in her life had she stolen anything that belonged to someone else, but suddenly she knew how a thief with a conscience must feel. It seemed as if her soul was shriveling into something small and hard.

  While the children plucked wild raspberries from a patch of brambles they had discovered, Evangeline told herself she had not stolen Jasper’s heart from Margaret Webster. She had never intended to care for him nor tried to make him care for her—quite the opposite, in fact. It was not her fault he had developed feelings for her.

  But try as she might to assuage her conscience, the fact remained that her happiness would surely cause heartache, perhaps even heartbreak, to an innocent woman who had never been anything but kind to her.

  The shimmer was rapidly coming off Evangeline’s fragile soap bubble by the time she and the children returned from their walk.

  “Go wash your hands now so you don’t stain your clothes,” she bid her pupils in a no-nonsense tone they were more accustomed to hearing from her. “And
you must change your stockings, Alfie. Those brambles snagged them terribly.”

  Jane appeared then to help tidy the children up. But first she handed Evangeline a letter. “This came in the post for you, miss.”

  Evangeline thanked her and sank onto the nearest chair to read a few lines while her young charges were occupied. They returned shortly to find her still reading and gnawing at her lower lip.

  “Is it bad news?” asked Emma in an anxious tone.

  “There’s nothing the matter with Kit, is there?” added Matthew, referring to the stepson of Evangeline’s friend Leah, with whom he and Alfie corresponded.

  “I’m certain Kit is quite well.” Evangeline did her best to mask her distress for the children’s sake. “My letter is not from Leah... I mean, Lady Northam.”

  “Who sent it then?” Rosie peered at the letter.

  “Grace... er... Lady Steadwell.” Even though Rebecca had been wed for four years, Evangeline still found it hard to think of her and the others by their married names. “Remember, I told you about her. She lives in Berkshire. Her youngest stepdaughter, Sophie, also writes letters to Kit.”

  Even as she spoke, she tried to think of a way to secure a few moments of privacy so she could finish reading Grace’s letter and digest its contents. “Jane, will you please take the children out to the garden? I shall be along shortly.”

  “Yes, miss.” The nursery maid beckoned the young Chases. “Come along, everyone.”

  A very subdued group followed her. Poor dears! They must wonder what mysterious events were rocking their secure little world this morning.

  Evangeline read a few more words of Grace’s letter then realized she was not alone. She glanced up to find Owen watching her from the door.

  Before she had a chance to bid him go join his brothers and sisters, the child spoke in an uncanny imitation of the words and tone she sometimes used with him. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  In spite of the tempest within her, Evangeline could not help smiling. She shook her head. “Later, perhaps, but thank you for asking.”

  He seemed to accept her answer.

  “Go on, then,” she repeated in a gentle way that was almost an endearment.

  Owen nodded, but instead of heading off, he darted toward her and threw his arms around her neck. The next instant he scurried away, leaving Evangeline on the verge of tears for only the second time in as long as she could remember. Reading the rest of her friend’s letter did nothing to restore her shaken composure.

  When she heard footsteps approaching through the door Owen had left ajar, she thought it must be Jane returning with the children. Had she been sitting there that long?

  The calm, ordinary world her body inhabited seemed miles away from the stormy inner realm of her thoughts and emotions. She willed herself to rise from the chair even as she grappled with a horde of regrets, questions and longings doing battle for her heart and soul.

  The door flew open the rest of the way and Jasper strode through it looking so handsome and happy it was like an exquisite jeweled dagger plunged into Evangeline’s chest. She almost cried out in bittersweet torment.

  “Dearest Evangeline!” He swept toward her and seized her hand, raising it to his lips. “Jane told me I would find you here. Forgive me for not coming sooner. I was on my way when I saw you go off with the children. You haven’t told them yet, have you... about us?”

  She shook her head slowly as if it belonged to a puppet she had trouble operating. “What is there to tell?”

  “A great deal, I would say.” Jasper chuckled as if she were teasing him and pressed her hand to his cheek. Only the parts of her in contact with him felt fully alive. “I suppose you do not want to announce anything until the formalities are settled. I cannot believe I let you get away last night without asking... without making certain. It is all understood, of course, but I do not want to deprive you of this special moment.”

  Still grasping her hand, he sank to the floor on one knee. Evangeline knew what he was going to say next, but she could not utter a word to prevent him. That was because part of her wanted so much to hear it.

  “Evangeline Fairfax,” he began, smiling up at her. “May I request the singular honor and happiness of your hand in marriage?”

  Her tongue seemed paralyzed by the conflict of two very different answers, both of which she felt powerfully compelled to give him.

  The radiance of his smile faltered and his black brows drew together over eyes grown suddenly wary. “Don’t keep me waiting, dear heart. Say you will marry me.”

  If only he knew how much she ached to do exactly that!

  His clasp of her right hand tugged her one way, but the letter she held in her left pulled her even harder in the other direction. “Forgive me, Mr. Chase. I cannot marry you.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “WHAT DID YOU say?” Jasper demanded, gazing up at Evangeline.

  If this was her idea of a jest, it was a poor one. But no twitch of her lips or twinkle in her deep brown eyes betrayed even a hint of levity.

  Perhaps his ears were playing tricks on him. Or perhaps this was all a bad dream.

  “Must you make me repeat it?” Evangeline wrenched her fingers from his grasp. Only then did he realize how cold they were. “It was hard enough to say the first time. I cannot marry you. I wish I could, but it is impossible!”

  She had the gall to sound vexed with him? Jasper had never felt like such a fool as he did now, kneeling before the woman who had spurned his proposal after he’d offered her his heart.

  That organ, so tender and vulnerable, felt as if she had kicked him in the chest with a copper-toed boot. He wondered how it managed to keep on beating, but somehow it did.

  He staggered to his feet. “How can you refuse me? Last night you told me you care for me. You let me kiss you. A lady has no business letting a man kiss her that way unless she is willing to marry him.”

  Evangeline drew herself up, spine stiff, chin tilted at a defiant angle. “Are you questioning my virtue? I assure you I have never permitted any other man to kiss me as you did last night. Nor do I mean to ever again. That was a grave lapse in judgment, which I very much regret.”

  Her voice broke on that last word, as if it might not be true. Jasper hoped it was not, for the thought of her repenting that wondrous moment between them was more than he could bear.

  Much as his injured pride urged him to lash out at her, he took a deep breath and moderated his tone. “Was all that a lie last night? Do you care nothing for me? Then why did you make me believe you do?”

  Her vibrant features twisted into an expression of wretched misery that tore at his injured heart. “It was not a lie. I do care for you, though I wish I did not. It only makes what I must do more difficult.”

  Her words tormented Jasper with a sliver of hope. “What must you do?”

  “Have you forgotten?” Her wounded gaze reproached him as she held up a sheet of paper he had not noticed in her hand. “My school. This letter is from my friend Grace, Lady Steadwell. She says the trustees cannot wait any longer. If I am unable to undertake the project immediately, they will be forced to find someone else who can.”

  Was that all? Relief almost took Jasper’s knees out from under him again. “Then let them find someone else, by all means! It is a worthy project and I will gladly contribute toward it, but there is no need for you to sacrifice your happiness and mine for the sake of a little charity school.”

  Her full, generous lips compressed into a thin, stubborn line. “Would you not be willing to sacrifice our happiness for the sake of your sooty old cotton mill? These past years, you have not hesitated to sacrifice your family life for it.”

  “That is not a fair comparison and you know it!” Jasper stabbed the air with his forefinger to emphasize his words. “New Hope is more than just another cotton mill. It is the means to a better life and some kind of dignity for every person I employ and their families.”

  Evangel
ine crossed her arms in front of her like a shield against him. “That is exactly what my school would provide for the orphans I would teach and care for. Working men have a great many more opportunities to better their lives than those poor girls do.”

  Much as he wanted to deny it, Jasper could not. The thought of his own dear daughters, friendless and penniless, shook him to the depths of his soul. But so did the prospect of his family’s future without Evangeline. “New Hope Mills is a kind of beacon I pray others may follow until this country’s industry is run according to truly Christian principles.”

  Evangeline refused to back down, which Jasper supposed should not surprise him. It was one of the things he admired most about her, much as it tried his patience at times. “Do you not think that having a charity school operated on true Christian principles might inspire others to do likewise?”

  “Perhaps,” he conceded. “I admit it is important work. But must you give up your own happiness and mine and the children’s? Surely there is someone else who could do it just as well—a woman who has no opportunity or no wish to marry and raise a family.”

  He could tell that arrow had found its mark. Evangeline’s stance of stiff defiance softened. Her squared shoulders slumped a little and her countenance betrayed some uncertainty. Yet she still refused to surrender. “Knowing what you do of my character and my past, do you honestly believe there is any woman better suited than I for this task?”

  Something about the way she asked the question made Jasper wonder if she hoped he could suggest someone else who might fill that role. He wished with all his heart that he was able to, but he could not lie about something so important, least of all to her.

  So he stubbornly refused to say anything.

  Evangeline unfolded the letter from her friend. Her gaze ranged back and forth over the lines of small precise writing. “According to Grace, there was an epidemic of typhus at the Pendergast School last winter. Several girls died. There has been an investigation of some sort and the place may be closed.”