Passion and Pride (A Historical Romance)

by Amelia Nolan

Marian’s cheeks blushed slightly – though more out of anger than embarrassment.

  “It is none of my business how you run your life, but…”

  Here the old woman stopped and sighed. Her tone suddenly changed, and took on a tone of saddened resignation.

  “…it disappoints me that you would choose to ruin it once again when given the chance to start over.”

  Marian finally looked up. In her eyes flashed an even greater anger, though she still said nothing.

  “Do you think he loves you?” Mrs. Chapman asked – simply, calmly, without rancor.

  The question was like a slap on Marian’s face. She had thought that no one knew, and yet it was obvious that her aunt did.

  Of course he does! she wanted to yell, but kept her silence.

  Almost as though she had read her niece’s mind, Mrs. Chapman tilted her head to one side. “I suppose the better question is, do you really think he would marry you?”

  If the first question was a slap, the second was a savage blow.

  It was a question Marian had asked herself on occasion more than once, though only when she was alone. With Evan, she was too happy for such dark musings; without him, though, sometimes her mind strayed to more somber questions.

  Such as, What if he gets me with child?

  And, What will be our future together?

  Her aunt, apparently, had pondered them too. “He is a wealthy gentleman who could marry any lady within a hundred miles. You are the daughter of a poor London clerk, and a servant girl to boot. Do you really think that you will become Lady Blake someday, a future baroness?”

  She looked her aunt straight in the face. “I do not need to be Lady Blake. I am Marian Willows; that is enough.”

  Mrs. Chapman shook her head slowly, as though marveling at her niece’s stupidity. “A changer of sheets and chamber pots – that is enough, is it?”

  “That is not all I am,” Marian said fiercely. “I will make a name and a life for myself. I do not need a man to do it for me.”

  “You may believe that now, because you are young and foolish,” Mrs. Chapman said, not unkindly, “but you will see that reality has a way of intruding on daydreams.”

  “I do not – ” Marian began, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

  Evan walked into the room. His smile was radiant.

  Her heart soared, and all shadows were banished from her mind.

  “Mrs. Chapman,” Evan said.

  “Mr. Blake,” the older lady greeted him, and curtsied – though she did not look at him. Now it was her turn to stare at the floor morosely.

  Evan looked back and forth between aunt and niece. “I trust nothing is amiss?”

  “I was just addressing Miss Willows’… unsatisfactory performance in her duties the last few weeks, sir.”

  “Oh. Well, I am sure it was a minor lapse of small importance.”

  Mrs. Chapman’s eyes flashed angrily at the younger man before she dropped them back to the floor. “Not minor, sir. Not minor at all.”

  “Well, perhaps Miss Willows is missing her parents and needs a trip home to London to see them again.”

  “Sir?” Mrs. Chapman asked, confused.

  “What?” Marian asked at the same time, doubly confounded.

  “I am sure she is quite homesick. In fact, I have just now concocted an excellent plan. You shall leave for London tomorrow to visit your parents, Miss Willows. Then, upon your return to Blakewood, I am sure you will be refreshed and more able to meet Mrs. Chapman’s high expectations.”

  Marian’s stomach sank. She did not understand any of this, and feared the worst: that Evan was sending her away, for reasons she could not fathom.

  “Sir, she has not been here two months yet!” Mrs. Chapman protested.

  “Which is a very long time for a young woman who has never been apart from her parents. Would you see to the details of the journey, Mrs. Chapman?”

  “But sir, she has no money to travel – ”

  “Have Harcourt ready the carriage for tomorrow morning. She shall take that.”

  “But sir – ”

  “Also, Miss Willows will need to be excused from the rest of her duties today so that she may pack.”

  “But sir – !”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Chapman.”

  The older woman looked at a loss… and then finally curtsied. “As you wish, sir. Come along, Marian.”

  “I require Miss Willows’ presence for a moment, Mrs. Chapman. A bit of business we must attend to.”

  Marian’s stomach felt as though it had fallen completely out of her body.

  Mrs. Chapman’s eyes flashed angrily for the briefest of seconds, and then she looked back at the floor. “As you wish, sir.”

  She walked quickly out of the study and closed the door behind her.

  “Are you mad?” Marian whispered in panic.

  Evan grinned at her. “For you, perhaps,” he said as he swept her into his arms and tried to kiss her.

  Marian pressed her arms against him frantically to keep him away. She glanced past him at the door to make sure it was closed. “She knows!”

  Evan looked perplexed. “What?”

  “She knows! About us!”

  Evan’s face drained of color. “Really?”

  “Yes!”

  “Oh… I thought we had been discrete…”

  Marian closed her eyes and put her hands to her forehead, her face a mask of worry.

  Then Evan chuckled. “Not that it will really matter after tomorrow morning.”

  She looked up, her anger at him wrestling with her fear that he was sending her away. “What the devil are you talking about?”

  He pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and presented it to her with a flourish and a grin.

  She took it apprehensively, unfolded it, and read, her eyes darting back and forth across the page.

  Then she screamed aloud.

  Evan stepped back, startled, though his smile only grew in size.

  A mere second later, the door to the study flew open and Mrs. Chapman rushed in – as though she had been no more than five feet from the door. “What? What’s the matter?”

  Marian clasped her hands to her mouth, and began hopping up and down.

  “Oh, Auntie – ”

  “Nothing is the matter,” Evan interrupted forcefully. “My, you made those arrangements quickly! Has Harcourt been alerted?”

  “I… not yet, sir,” Mrs. Chapman mumbled.

  “I thought you had already left to carry out my instructions,” Evan said pointedly, having a bit of fun at her expense.

  “I… begging your pardon, sir, I’ll attend to it now. Marian, are you…”

  “I’m fine, Auntie,” Marian beamed, nearly weeping with joy.

  “Oh… all right…” Mrs. Chapman said, looking back and forth in bewilderment between the two young people. She curtsied once more and closed the door behind her.

  As soon as she was gone, Marian dashed to Evan and looped her arms around his neck. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked, concerned.

  “Because I’m so happy! Kiss me, kiss me now!”

  “Why?” he laughed.

  “Because that is the only thing that will make me happier!”

  They kissed passionately until Marian finally pulled away.

  “When did you find out?” she asked.

  “Not ten minutes ago. It gave me a devil of a time to find you; I was racing all up and down the halls.”

  “Why did you not let me tell her the news?!”

  “I think it best to be prudent, at least for the moment,” Evan said. “We do not know the terms Pemberly will be proposing, and – truthfully – they might not be enough to establish you.”

  “Do you think that he will try to cheat me?” she asked, suddenly serious.

  “That is why I will be present when you talk to him.”

  Marian’s face lit up with joy, and she kissed Evan in
delight. “You will be coming with me?”

  “Not tomorrow, but I will follow you shortly, in a matter of days.”

  She frowned. “Why not come with me tomorrow?”

  “It would be unseemly.”

  “But my aunt already knows.”

  “That does not mean everyone else does.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That is doubtful.”

  “Even better, then, that I not accompany you.”

  “Is this charade really necessary? I’m sure that anyone with suspicions will figure it out when you suddenly leave in two days.”

  “Propriety demands a show of correctness, even if everyone involved knows that it is – ”

  “A farce?”

  He grimaced. “Just do this for me, will you?”

  She relented with a grudging smile. “Anything for you.”

  “Anything?” he asked as he bent towards her mouth.

  “Anything,” she whispered as her lips met his.

  20

  “You want me to what?!”

  Andrew had said perhaps a dozen words to Evan over the last three weeks, and stormed out of the room any time his older brother walked in. In order to speak to him, Evan had to corner him in his bedroom that evening.

  “I need you to escort Marian to London.”

  The younger man scowled. “Whatever in God’s name for?”

  “I want to make sure she arrives safely. Our carriage leaves for London tomorrow morning with her as its passenger. I want you to escort her to her parents’ home.”

  Andrew was silent for a long moment. The anger in his eyes bordered on hatred.

  “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  “I cannot.”

  “Why not?”

  “For reasons I am not at liberty to explain.”

  Andrew smirked. “Keeping up appearances, eh?”

  Evan stiffened. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, really? Then you are the only one in the house who doesn’t know. Except father, perhaps. He’s a bit deaf, so he hasn’t heard the laughter and cries of passion from the east wing at all hours of the night.”

  Evan’s face drained of blood.

  “Oh yes,” Andrew continued, his teeth set on edge. “You should know that the younger servants were listening to you. I found them one night crouching in the hall, looking like they were playing dice. I demanded what mischief they were up to – and then I heard the show myself.”

  As Evan drew back in horror, Andrew’s anger turned to fury.

  “You treat me like a criminal, then you go on to behave like a blackguard,” he hissed. “Do you really believe your sanctimonious shite about your unassailable honor, or were you just pissing on me to mark your territory?”

  Evan took a few seconds to compose himself. “I… should not have treated you with such disrespect. I apologize, brother.”

  “How earnest of you, brother!” Andrew sneered. “How quickly are the apologies forthcoming now that you need a favor from me!”

  “I had hoped that our quarrel would blow over – ”

  “You hoped! Hoped that the utter contempt you showed me – and in front of a servant girl! – would just be forgotten, like that?” he asked, snapping his fingers.

  “I was wrong to do so.”

  “Yes, you were,” Andrew snarled. “And if you want your little whore escorted safe home to London, do it yourself.”

  It took him a second to get past the shock of Andrew’s words, but as soon as he did, Evan advanced on his brother with the look of a man intent to kill. His face was a scarlet mask of fury, and his eyes flashed with murder.

  Andrew saw the intent and stumbled backwards, his own anger replaced by fear.

  Evan took several steps forward… then stopped. The struggle was writ plainly on his face, but he mastered his anger until it turned from homicidal to merely outraged.

  “Do not ever call her that again,” he rasped, his voice like the sharp edge of cold steel.

  Andrew nodded in panicked agreement. The image of his own impending death had taken the wind from his sails. “I apologize… I let my anger with you get the best of me.”

  Evan considered, and then the storm subsided – though the dark clouds still loomed on the horizon. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would make sure she gets safe home to London.”

  “Why me? Why not send one of the servants to accompany her?” Andrew asked. His voice, though no longer churlish, still contained a trace of insolence.

  “Because you are the only person I trust.”

  Andrew drew himself up straight. The compliment seemed to have restored some of his personal pride.

  “What am I to do then? Wait for her to finish her visit? And for how long?”

  “Only take her to her parents’ door, make sure she is safely home, and then your duty is discharged so far as I am concerned. Except for one more request: go to Pemberly and let him know Miss Willows and I will meet him for lunch in four days.”

  Andrew frowned. “Why is she going to meet Pemberly?”

  Evan allowed himself a smile. “He is going to publish her novel.”

  “What?! Truly?”

  “Yes, although please do not mention that to anyone. She is keeping it a secret. You are the only one who knows beside us and Pemberly himself.”

  “No, of course not,” Andrew agreed, slightly more agreeable now that he had been taken into confidence.

  “In the meantime, I am sure you and Pemberly can have a merry couple of evenings while he waits for Miss Willows’ arrival. You might even enjoy some time with your old university friends. I know you have been aching to leave Blakewood; here is your chance.”

  Andrew’s eyes flashed with the promise of revelry, and he finally smiled. But then the smile faded. “Father will never allow it.”

  “Let me handle Father.”

  “What about money? I have nothing, and I’m not about to go knocking at Pemberly’s door as a charity case – ”

  At this, Evan produced a small bag from his pocket and held it out. Andrew paused. When he finally took it, it jingled heavily in his hand.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “A secret. But it should be enough to keep you suitably entertained for a week.”

  There was a fleeting glimpse of rancor in Andrew’s eyes, but then he took the purse. “Very well.”

  “Thank you. You have greatly eased my mind,” Evan said, and bowed his head the slightest.

  Andrew nodded, and watched as his brother left the room. The entire time he caressed the tiny purse.

  21

  Their last night together at Blakewood was bittersweet. Though there was the joy of Marian’s first step on the road of success, there was also the impending pain of their separation. Perhaps because they had been together for such a short time, and caught up so passionately and completely in their affair, even three nights apart seemed like an eternity.

  There was also an unspoken fear of the unknown. Neither of them would admit to these fears – not to each other, nor even to themselves – but they were like travelers in a forest who had come to the end of the path, and the way forward was by no means clear. There was the immediate fear of losing each other – not for good, heavens no, that was unthinkable, impossible! But when one’s love is there every day at arm’s length, his presence is often taken for granted – and any change looms as dark and forbidding as a sudden storm.

  When they talked, it was in whispers, despite the excitement of Marian’s bright future. And when they made love, it was soft and slow, tender and sweet, with every caress a lingering touch, every kiss a plea to stay longer, to not leave, to never part.

  They made love longer than any of their previous couplings. It was as though Evan hungered to be within her, and could not bear the parting of his flesh from hers. He stared deep into her eyes the entire time, his gaze never leaving hers. He would kiss her lips, first the upper, then the lower, his tongue as soft as a dream on hers. His
slow, sensual strokes brought her over and over again to ecstasy – a deeper, more throbbing bliss than the heightened frenzies she ordinarily felt.

  But she did not cry out; she wanted it to last forever, and she was afraid that if she made any noise, it would push him over the edge. She made no more noise than absolutely necessary, only clutching his hair fiercely as his thickness slowly advanced within her, inch by inch, then receded, then filled her again, pushing her pleasure to greater and greater crescendos with every slow, hot, lingering thrust. He seemed to grow thicker and harder the longer he put off his own pleasure, until she felt as though she would die in an agony of bliss as the peaks of her own joy came closer and closer together, seconds apart, then one on top of each other. She could feel nothing but his body within hers, and see nothing but his beautiful eyes staring into her own, and wanted nothing more than for this moment to go on forever.

  Finally she could not contain herself. A cry escaped her lips and he groaned a second later, and she felt her own joy spiral out of control as his manhood spasmed deep within her.

  She felt his hardness melt away within her, but still he stayed in her arms, kissed her, brushing his lips against hers, never letting his eyes stray from her own.

  22

  It was long after midnight when he gave her the gift.

  “Wait here, I have something to keep with you on your journey,” he whispered to her, and peeled his naked body from her own. She propped up her head with one arm so that she could watch his magnificent form as he walked across the room.

  Her heart fluttered with fear the tiniest bit. She fought down her hopes of a small box, just large enough to carry a ring, knowing that it was implausible, that the timing was improper, that he would never propose in such a manner.

  She did not let herself think the word impossible, however.

  Her reduced expectations helped her considerably when he presented a foot-long box made of polished wood.

  A necklace? she wondered with excitement.

  “Open it,” he said as he slid it across the sheets and knelt beside the bed.

  She pulled open the lid… and stared down at a knife.

  It was a dainty little thing, a thin, silver blade with an ornately wrought handle. Beside it on its velvet bed was a tiny sheath made of lambskin.