by Adele Clee
Where could he be going at such an ungodly hour?
Without any warning, he swung around and punched the air. Evelyn jumped back into the shadows for fear of being seen. Had his anger reached such an uncontrollable level that he was forced to take his frustration outdoors?
Curiosity burning away inside, she edged back to the window and peeked out. She saw the earl sitting on a bench opposite the fountain. He was staring up at the moon as though the Lord had forsaken him and he was pleading for forgiveness; then he looked down and cradled his head in his hands.
Surely he wasn’t weeping?
A lump formed in Evelyn’s throat; a hollow cavern opened up in her chest. She fought the powerful urge to go to him, to ease his troubled mind, to find the good buried so deeply within. Struggling with a range of surprising emotions, she closed her eyes to calm the restlessness consuming her.
When she opened them again and found the courage to look out, she was not prepared for the shocking sight that greeted her.
The earl had stripped off his coat and cravat and was busy working on stripping off every other piece of clothing until he stood naked, bare as the day he was born. Beneath the celestial setting, his skin glistened with a silvery sheen, his muscular body carved to perfection: powerful, hard, yet graceful. Even though she knew it was wrong — a gross invasion of his privacy — she could not help but stare in awe at the sculptured contours.
The Earl of Hale was a magnificent specimen of a man.
With an open mouth, she watched him walk down to the bottom of the garden, to the narrow river meandering through his property. And then he slid into the water and out of sight.
Evelyn didn’t make it to her aunt’s room.
Instead, she threw off her wrapper, climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin, all in a desperate bid to dampen the fire burning in her belly. She could not erase the image from her mind.
She’d never known a man be so bold, so unconventional, so exciting.
How was it possible to despise a man and desire him both at the same time?
A strange sort of need clawed away at her, and she plastered her hand over her mouth to help ease the shock. Half of her wanted to throw on her clothes and run as far away from Stony Cross as her legs could manage. The other half wanted to strip off everything and swim naked with him in the river.
Oh, God!
She thrust her head under the pillow as a way of shutting out the world and after dismissing an array of lascivious images, involving firm buttocks and well-developed thighs, she finally fell asleep.
“Wake up, miss, wake up. It’s gone ten.”
Mrs. Shaw shook the bed with such force she thought she might fall out. Evelyn groaned and turned over in protest. How could it be ten? She felt as though she’d only been asleep for an hour.
“You need to get up. A letter has come from Mytton Grange.”
It took a moment for the words to penetrate and Evelyn opened her eyes as the thought echoed in her mind. She should have been ecstatic. She should have been clambering over the bed in a rush to get to her clothes.
“Is … is Mr. Sutherby sending his carriage?”
Why did she have the overwhelming feeling that she didn’t want to leave? Why had she developed a sudden affinity for the place?
“I’ve left the letter in his lordship’s study. He won’t be down yet.”
No, Evelyn thought, probably because he’d spent the night boxing an invisible opponent and swimming naked in the river.
“How’s Aunt Beatrice this morning?”
“Much better,” Mrs. Shaw said with a smile. “She’s managed to eat a bit of toast.”
The sense of relief caused her to sigh loudly. “I’ll wash and dress and spend some time with her before I eat. Do you think she’ll be fit to travel?”
“I’m sure she will. It’s only a few miles and she can rest when she gets there.”
“Oh.”
Mrs. Shaw poured fresh water into the pitcher. “I’ll be sad to see you go. It’s been nice having someone to talk to.”
The thought of leaving caused another pang of sadness in Evelyn’s chest. How odd.
“You’ve been very kind, Mrs. Shaw. I’m sure I’d have been left cold, filthy and starving if it wasn’t for you.”
Mrs. Shaw gave a weak smile. “Oh, his lordship would have mellowed, eventually. He’s a good man deep down. Never forget that.”
Evelyn didn’t see the earl at breakfast, although it was almost twelve when her growling stomach forced her to leave her aunt and go in search of food. There was no sign of him when she wandered through the house. There was no sign of him in the garden when she examined the fountain and sat on the bench. The same bench where he had so shamelessly discarded his clothes.
A frisson of excitement raced through her at the thought.
When the rain came, she rushed inside and almost barged into Mrs. Shaw, who was on her way out to find her.
“His lordship said to tell you that Mr. Sutherby will be calling later today. You’re to make sure your things are packed and waiting in the hall.”
Obviously, the earl couldn’t wait to be rid of her, and she felt anger flare. All of these conflicting emotions were giving her a headache.
“Could he not come and tell me so himself?” she said loudly in the hope he would hear her. “It’s not as though he could offend me any more than he has already. He’s made it clear he wants us out of here as soon as possible.”
Mrs. Shaw bent her head and whispered, “It’s more that he doesn’t want to become acquainted with Mr. Sutherby, for fear the gentleman will call in when he’s passing. I’d prepare yourself. I expect his lordship will be blunt and rather unkind.”
His lordship’s mood did not concern her; she had grown quite used to it in the few hours she’d spent with him. But she refused to be ignored or treated with contempt. He should have consulted her regarding any arrangements made.
“Where is the earl?”
Mrs. Shaw glanced to the closed door at the end of the hall. “In the study … but you can’t go in. No one’s allowed in there.”
Evelyn marched to the door and knocked.
There was no reply.
“He doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Mrs. Shaw said with a look of panic. “Not so early in the day.”
Evelyn shrugged. “He doesn’t give a hoot for the feelings of others. Why should I give a hoot for his?”
Before she could change her mind, Evelyn gripped the handle and burst into the room, despite Mrs. Shaw tugging at the sleeve of her dress.
The earl was not sitting behind his desk, and Evelyn froze in shock as she studied the dimly lit room.
The walls were lined with dark oak panels, the wooden shutters pulled across to block out the light. The timbered ceiling made the room feel small, confined. In the corner, a warm glow radiated from the tall candelabra even though it was the middle of the day.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
She heard his deep thunderous roar emanating from behind the door and like a frightened animal, Mrs. Shaw retreated into the hallway. Evelyn refused to let fear quash her anger, and she slammed the door shut to find the earl sitting on a stool in front of an easel.
“Get out,” he yelled jumping up to block her view and knocking over the stool in the process.
Stand strong, she thought, remembering Mrs. Shaw’s words that he was a good man beneath the bravado.
Evelyn squared her shoulders. “I am not leaving until you pay me the respect I deserve.”
He stepped forward, his large frame towering above her, his jaw clenched. But she recalled the image of the sad gentleman sitting on the bench. She recalled the image of a man struggling to suppress his pain.
“If you want rid of me, you will have to pick me up and throw me out,” she continued, swallowing down her nerves.
He straightened. “Are you refusing to abide by my request?”
“I am.” Evelyn folded her a
rms across her chest to reinforce her position.
Uncertainty flashed in his eyes. He was obviously used to people doing what they were told. “Then you leave me no option. I will simply drag you out.”
“No, you won’t. You may be rude and odious, but you would never hurt me.”
Evelyn had no idea what he was capable of, but she would take a chance. His sharp tone did not worry her anymore. She moved to the desk, pulled out the chair and sat down.
“I would like you to tell me what arrangements have been made for me and my aunt.”
He hovered near the easel, his hesitant feet moving to step forward before stopping. “Wait out in the hall and I will find the letter.”
“I am waiting here.”
He muttered a curse and thrust his hand through his hair. “Are you always so stubborn?”
Evelyn smiled. “Only when the need arises.”
As another curse left his lips, he stomped over to the desk, rifled through his papers and practically threw the note at her. “Here. You can read it outside.”
Evelyn ignored him. She unfolded the paper and read the missive. Mr. Sutherby had expressed his concern for their welfare and asked to call for them at two. A hollow feeling gripped her as it was almost two o’clock. Soon, she would be far away from Stony Cross and the sour-faced Earl of Hale, never to cast sight on either of them again.
As though reading her thoughts, the earl said, “I told him he could call at five.”
“But I thought you were desperate to be rid of us,” she said wondering what had prompted the change of heart.
“Five o’clock suits me better.”
“Of course,” Evelyn replied with a snort.
He jerked his head towards the door. “Now you’ve seen the note you can go.”
It occurred to her that his rudeness was a mask for something else. What was he hiding? What was he scared of? That strange feeling swamped her again: the need to soothe his wounds, the need to hear kind words fall from his lips.
Evelyn stood, and he looked relieved. But rather than head for the door, she walked over to the shutters.
“Why is it so dark in here?” she asked, determined to unnerve him. “Why does it feel as though someone has died and the house in a state of constant mourning?”
She touched the shutters, and he gasped, rushing over and patting them to check they were still in place. With his mind preoccupied with the shutters, she strode over to the easel to examine his sketch in the hope it would reveal something of the man he kept hidden.
The sight caused all the air to leave her lungs and her heart skipped a beat as a rush of pure emotion exploded until her eyes brimmed with tears.
The Earl of Hale had sketched the most beautiful portrait of her. She was sitting on the bank of a river filled with water lilies, the reflection of the moon shimmering on its mirrored surface. She wore a sleeveless dress, her hair cascading in ripples over bare shoulders. He’d captured her unusually wide eyes to perfection, although her lips appeared fuller, more sensual. There was something magical about the scene, something ethereal.
Evelyn swung around to look at him but could find no words to express the strange feeling that consumed her.
The earl stood and stared in a moment of frozen stasis, yet she sensed his embarrassment. For the first time since meeting him, she thought she saw something more than frustration and irritation flashing in his eyes.
She had no notion how long they stood in stupefied silence, staring deep into each other’s eyes. But a loud rap on the door broke the spell.
The door opened a fraction, and Mrs. Shaw popped her head around. “Forgive me, my lord, but Mr. Sutherby has arrived.”
His anger surfaced immediately. “Well, he can bloody well wait. I told him to come at five. Is the man so stupid he cannot read?”
“I’ve put them in the drawing room. What with it being so overcast today, it will be the most suitable place.”
“Them?”
“The gentleman’s brought his sister with him.”
The earl dragged the palm of his hand down his face and cursed again. “We’ll be along in a moment.”
Mrs. Shaw left them, and the earl nodded to the easel. “I often sketch when I’ve nothing else better to do,” he said, his tone frosty.
Evelyn suppressed a smile. Nothing he could say could demean the effort it had taken to capture her likeness or the fact that he had chosen her as his subject. This tortured, complicated man was certainly an enigma.
Evelyn walked towards the door. She stopped in front of him and placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “So beautiful it makes me want to cry.”
He swallowed visibly before replacing his mask of indifference. “I’m not the sort who enjoys displays of sentimentality. But rest assured, the kindest, most handsome man in all of England has come to your rescue.”
Evelyn pulled her hand away, but the frisson of excitement the connection stirred still coursed through her body. “People are not always what they seem, my lord,” she said. “I’ve heard it said that the coldest of men often hide the biggest heart.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Bromwell. The coldest men often have no heart.”
Chapter 6
Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest as she walked across the hall towards the drawing room. The inevitable day had come. The day when she would have to confront her feelings for Mr. Sutherby. Although she believed the rapid beating had more to do with the Earl of Hale’s hot palm, placed lightly at the small of her back to guide her towards the desired room. Even when his hand fell to his side, she could feel the imprint searing her skin like a branding iron.
“My dear, Miss Bromwell.” Mr. Sutherby jumped from his seat as though the padding was on fire, his mop of fair hair falling forward as he rushed to take her hands in his. He brought them to his mouth and brushed his clammy lips across her bare skin. “You look so weak, so frightfully pale. What a horrendous time you’ve had. We’ve been so worried, haven’t we, Charlotte?”
“Indeed, we have hardly slept a wink,” said the golden-haired beauty coming to stand at his side.
Dressed impeccably in a fashionable fawn silk gown and tucker, Charlotte Sutherby made Evelyn feel positively frumpish in her plain muslin dress. Vanity was a trait she despised yet she suddenly wished she’d spent more time on her appearance.
“Allow me to introduce my sister, Charlotte.” Mr. Sutherby gestured to the lady as she offered a demure curtsy.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Evelyn said, “If only our first meeting could have been under less harrowing circumstances.”
“When we heard what had happened to you, Miss Bromwell, we were aghast,” Charlotte said clutching her hands to her chest.
Evelyn could feel the earl’s penetrating gaze boring into her back. Hostility hung in the air like a guillotine, waiting for the opportune moment to come crashing down on its victim.
“Please, you must call me Evelyn,” she said, dismissing the earl’s sudden intake of breath. “Allow me to introduce you both to our generous host, the Earl of Hale.”
The Sutherby siblings’ respectful greeting was met with a frown severe enough to silence a pack of howling dogs.
“When I gave instructions to call at five, I meant it,” the earl said sharply. “I cannot abide shoddy manners.”
Mr. Sutherby’s sky-blue eyes flashed with surprise and Miss Sutherby’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she stepped forward.
“Surely you can forgive this one misdemeanour, my lord.” She batted her lashes in such a salacious manner that Evelyn felt a tiny stab of jealousy upon anticipating the earl’s excited reaction.
“No, I’m afraid I can’t,” he said, oblivious to the woman’s charms. “When I invite someone to my home, I expect them to pay me the respect of arriving on time.”
Mrs. Shaw was right. The earl seemed determined to ensure they never called upon him again.
Rath
er than challenge the earl by using the unfortunate accident as an excuse, Mr. Sutherby offered his usual affable smile. “You’re right. Forgive our rudeness, my lord. It will not happen again.”
The earl inclined his head in response. “I should think not, as you’ll have no need to call again.”
An uncomfortable silence ensued and Evelyn turned to the earl and whispered through gritted teeth, “Are you going to offer them tea?”
He shrugged in response. “I don’t drink tea,” he said loud enough for them to hear. “This is not a social call, which is the only reason I’ve let them stay.”
Evelyn waited for Mr. Sutherby to challenge the earl for his coarse manner and for showing his sister such disrespect, but the man said nothing. Timidity was not a quality she desired in anyone, let alone a man destined to be her husband. No lady could possibly be happy on the arm of a coward.
“There is no need to be so rude,” Evelyn said determined to defend them. “You know why they’re here. And I’m certain they have no intention of ever daring to turn up uninvited.”
His gaze searched her face and his mouth curled up in response. “Then they may sit while Mrs. Shaw prepares your aunt for the journey.”
Mr. Sutherby should have told him to go to the devil. He should have stormed out to wait for her in his carriage. Instead, both brother and sister sat down near the window and began conversing about the appalling weather. Evelyn sat with them and relayed details of the accident while the earl sat in the farthest corner of the room, shrouded in the shadows.
Evelyn tried to concentrate on the conversation, but her attention was drawn to the brooding figure in the corner. Surprisingly, she found she preferred his scathing honesty to Mr. Sutherby’s placid temperament. The gentlemen were equally as handsome. However, the earl’s features were more rugged, more intriguing, reflecting the mysteriousness of the night, as opposed to Mr. Sutherby’s sunny disposition.
You don’t love him.
