“My lady?” The coachman watched as she twirled around for the tenth time.
“Oh…yes,” Eve answered, not wanting to hold them up any longer. Her mother watched her attentively from the open doorway. Eve knew she had to be wondering about her odd behavior and so she climbed inside.
The carriage made its way toward home, and she could feel her mother’s gaze upon her. “Would you care to share your adventure with your sister and me?” she finally asked.
Eve was staring out the window, watching the first drops of rain splash onto the road and the windows of the carriage. “I love listening to the rain.”
Her mother smiled, knowing Eve had always been a lover of nature but that thunderstorms were her favorite. “What happened to you during the intermission?”
“Yes, what did happen to you? You were gone for a long time.” Cassie suddenly became very interested in what Eve had to say.
“I met the most intriguing gentleman,” Eve supplied without explanation.
“So I gathered from your glowing smile,” Mother stated impatiently.
Eve knew they wanted the whole story and she became excited thinking about it. “Well, you see, the waiter was not in the corridor and…” She hesitated, wondering if she was about to find herself in trouble, but then she trudged on because she really wanted her mother to be able to identify the man she met by her description of him. “Well, I probably shouldn’t have done so, but I descended the stairs in search of refreshments. There were so many people and they were all pushing and shoving. And that is when it happened.” At her mother’s glare, she grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t think about needing a chaperone to retrieve a glass of punch.”
“What happened?” Cassie asked anxiously.
“I was pushed into what I thought was the wall, but it wasn’t a wall. It was a man, a large, handsome, Adonis of a man on whom I spilt punch when I fell into him. He was most understanding about the situation and we began to talk.”
“About the play?” Cassie’s eyes twinkled, knowing her sister was not the least bit interested in the performance.
“No, of course not,” Eve replied merrily. “We spoke of…London and stuff. I was pushed again and he put up his strong arms to protect me. Oh, he was so perfect in stature, impeccably dressed, and very dashing. I know you must know of him, Mother.” Eve paused to enjoy the picture of him that came to mind.
“He sounds wonderful,” Cassie agreed, seeming to enjoy her tale. “Very romantic. A young couple caught up in a crowd and shoved together by fate.”
Mother laughed at Cassie’s whimsical thoughts. Her sister was such a romantic. “That’s all well and good, dear,” said Mother. “But it was actually the rudeness of humans that shoved them together. Evelyn, what is this paragon’s name?”
Eve hesitated, suddenly embarrassed. “I… I’m afraid I do not know, nor does he know mine. It was all very confusing.” She tried to explain the reason behind such an oversight. “I mean, being pushed every which way while trying to apologize to him for the spilt punch and then trying to have a polite conversation… I forgot to ask, and I guess he forgot to tell me.”
“You didn’t introduce yourself?” Cassie was aghast by the mere thought and then let out a sigh. “See, Mother. It is fate. They were both so caught up with each other that they left out the formalities.”
Her mother seemed to agree, Eve noted. Indeed, Eve knew better than to leave out such an important and necessary exchange, an exchange that should have been handled by another familiar acquaintance. On the other hand, there was no excuse for such a blunder and her mother’s look said as much. “Why don’t you describe him to me?”
By the time Eve was done with her flowery description, her mother sat back with a huff. “Evelyn, dearest. There isn’t a man alive who could fit the perfect godlike description you have rendered.”
Well, perhaps not, Eve thought to herself. But it was true.
“You’re so lucky. I hope I find a man just like him someday. Did he mention having a younger brother?” Cassie’s eyes were bright with excitement.
“No, but I can ask the next time I see him,” Eve assured her, hoping she’d see him tomorrow.
Her mother appeared relieved when they reached the house. “Perhaps, Evelyn, you could see to it to give me a more realistic description in the morning.”
“I shall try, Mother, but he truly is as perfect as I described.”
***
Immediately after the carriage pulled away from Lady Patricia’s residence, Paxton put his hand up to silence Lydia’s protest. “I know, and all I can say is, I’m sorry. I promise I will never put you through something like that again.”
“I can guarantee that as well, brother, for I will no longer be accompanying you anywhere. I shall find myself another chaperone.”
“Come now, Lydia. I said I was sorry and it won’t happen again.”
Lydia looked down her nose at him and crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, I don’t believe you. I don’t understand why you don’t find yourself a wife. If you did, all of the flighty young debutantes that you so dread would finally leave you alone. I think that in fact you thrive on the attention and merely protest afterward.”
His sister knew that neither statement she made was true. Women seemed to find him irresistible and they flocked around him like seagulls to water and would probably do so regardless if he had a wife. She also knew how much he hated all the attention.
“At least the majority of them would leave you alone,” she reiterated.
“Then I would have to put up with a nagging wife and an untrustworthy companion,” Paxton stated in his defense. In fact, Paxton held no trust for the opposite sex, a lesson well learned. “I’m not marrying.”
Lydia’s eyes narrowed defiantly as she lifted her chin to do battle. “Why must I be forced to endure the institution of marriage even as you vow to never enter it? You are the one with the title and a need for heirs! It is completely unfair!” She smacked the seat cushion beside her. “It’s not right. Mary Wollstonecraft stated that women deserve to have the same rights as men. Men should not be given rights in which they are allowed full control of a woman once they marry. And I think men who believe in such degrading treatment of women are a bunch of pretentious puffed-up fools holding on to pompous views of their superiority. They expect women to obey and submit meekly to their demands. Well, I for one will not stand for it!” She threw her hands in the air.
Paxton grinned and shook his head, knowing how his sister loved to quote from the late radical liberal who advocated women equality. Once Lydia got started on her women’s rights tirades, it was hard to stop her. It wasn’t his fault that law, religion, and Society deemed a woman her husband’s property. He watched as her face reddened and she fumed, hollering out her argumentative quotes on equality.
She took a deep breath and dramatically tossed her arms wide again. “The injustice of it all!” She accidently smacked the back of her hand into the carriage door.
Paxton couldn’t help but laugh at her antics as she cradled her arm into her chest and rubbed the back of her hand to ease the pain.
“This is not funny, Pax,” she scolded with irritation. “What do you think you’re laughing at?”
Paxton continued to laugh as he picked up one of her hairpins from the carriage floor and leaned over to secure the floating strands of hair in place for her. “It’s just this display of yours is the very reason I think it’s time for you to wed. You are too willful, defiant, and independent. I think it would do you well to direct all your boundless energy toward a husband and a family of your own.”
“I see. Yet again you haven’t listened to a word I have said,” Lydia replied in frustration, and then she sighed in defeat. The flush on her cheeks told him the one-sided argument had invigorated her. He was aware how bothered Lydia
was that society had two separate sets of rules for men and women. He knew she hated how men told women to do one thing when they, like himself, did the exact opposite. He certainly had no desire to marry, and he knew that, as a titled member of the gentry, he was going against the grain of societal expectations. But as a female, Lydia wasn’t allowed to go against the social norm. Marriage was her only option.
Marriage for his sister was not merely expected but demanded, but marriage for him, though also expected, was no longer feasible. Paxton’s aversion to the holy state occurred two years before when he had unwisely fancied himself in love with the beautiful Lady Beverly. Being the lovesick dupe that he was, he asked for her hand. Shortly thereafter, he found out she had numerous lovers on the side and was playing him for a fool. Once recovered from his personal tragedy, he vowed to never wed. He preferred solitude; it never betrayed him.
Lydia rolled her eyes in frustration. She knew why he was against marriage. “You have to rid yourself of this lack of trust you have in women. Not all women are the same you know. Lady Beverly was an exception, brother. She is evil and best forgotten. Besides, you trust me.”
“That’s different. You’re my sister.”
She gave him a smirk, seemingly knowing he’d give her that response. “You could marry for convenience. It’s not as if that is out of the ordinary among Society,” she teased. “Find yourself a woman who is meek and submissive.” She said the last two words mockingly. “That is, if you think you can be happy with a dull-witted female.”
Paxton laughed. He looked out the window at the torrential downpour, contemplating his sister’s words. A marriage of convenience? Was it worth some thought? Perhaps that was what he needed, a sweet-natured woman who was kind to his sister and could take over the task of finding Lydia a husband. Suddenly the young woman who had crashed into him earlier at the theater came to mind. No, she was definitely not the meek and submissive type. She was bold and fiery in manner. She had gripped his bicep in a way… Well, it affected him, that’s all. “There are numerous women in London, and if I was inclined, I’m sure I could find one to fit my needs, but I’m not marrying, ever.” His statement was made with such finality that they both fell silent.
“How would you like to go to the Countess of Madison’s tomorrow? I think our cousin Rebecca and her husband will be there and so you won’t have to be stuck with your boring brother all night.”
Lydia’s face lit up with excitement. Paxton knew she hadn’t seen their cousin Rebecca, now the Duchess of Arlington, since the wedding. But just as quickly her enthusiasm disappeared. “Will it only be the two of us going?”
“Most definitely. Come on, Lydia. What say you?”
“I would love to go, Pax.” Lydia pitched forward into him as the carriage hit a hole in the road. She laughed, righting herself. “Let’s hope that whomever I marry is closely acquainted with many doctors.” Although she protested against the institution of marriage, Lydia still wanted to marry and raise a family. This Paxton knew, despite her bluster to the contrary.
“Perhaps we should wed you to a doctor,” he said in jest, and he was rewarded for his humor with a light kick to his shin. The carriage came to a halt and the livery opened up the door and positioned an umbrella. “Should I carry you to the door? We wouldn’t want you slipping on the wet stones walking to the house.”
“Oh, do stop teasing!” Lydia took her time alighting, with ladylike grace, from the vehicle. As long as she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t hurt herself, but then Lydia always seemed to be in a hurry. Exhausted from the night’s activities, she bid him good night and went up to her room.
Paxton on the other hand was far from tired. He was filled with unexplainable anxiety. Entering his study, he poured himself a three-finger glass of bourbon and sat on the sofa in front of the warm fire. It was quiet in the house, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the wood and the pitter-patter of rain as it hit the window. Staring into the blue flames of the fire, Paxton imagined the lady from the theater. Her eyes had been as luminescent as the blue flame in front of him. He wondered who she was and if he’d see her tomorrow.
He swirled the amber liquid in his crystal snifter and then downed the rest of it. It didn’t do him any good to think about a woman he wouldn’t allow himself to have. He reminded himself that he needed to focus his energies on seeing his sister through this Season.
Looking up at a walnut-framed portrait of his father over the fireplace mantle, he began to wonder how his father would have raised Lydia had he lived. The former Earl of Devonhurst died, according to the doctor from a weak heart, when Paxton was eighteen and Lydia was ten. It upset Paxton to think how much his father would have enjoyed handling his energetic sister. Thankfully, they still had their loving, but often absent, mother. The countess spent most of her days, when she wasn’t busy telling Paxton how to run his life, in the country or traveling. She didn’t like to venture into the city, and Paxton assumed it was because the manor was a sad reminder of Father’s death.
His mother should be the one overseeing Lydia’s Season and future marriage, he thought.
Marriage! He detested the very idea, but if there was ever a woman who needed a husband, it was his willful sister. Although, in truth, he could not come up with one man of his acquaintance he’d deem good enough for her, let alone intelligent and clever enough to deal with such a challenging and vocal lady as Lydia. The task before him was daunting.
CHAPTER THREE
Madeline sat patiently at the long wooden breakfast table watching her daughters fill their plates from the sideboard. She thought she had a clue as to which man her sweet daughter bumped into last night, and the possibility worried her.
“So have you thought about the description I gave you, Mother?” Eve asked as she took her seat. She brought a fork full of scrambled eggs to her mouth as she waited for her mother to answer.
Madeline smiled at Evelyn’s obvious excitement and hoped her conclusion was wrong regarding the man’s identity. “Yes, actually. This quandary kept me up a good portion of the night, but I’m still unsure. I need more information.”
“He sounds like an angel sent down from heaven,” Cassie declared, taking a drink of her hot chocolate.
“Indeed he does,” Madeline agreed.
“Well, he did mention that he was married…”
“Married!” both she and Cassie cried out at the same time. Oh dear God in heaven, what is my daughter thinking?
Eve giggled at their stricken faces. “Married to bachelorhood. I assumed he was issuing me a challenge.”
“Then I know who it is,” Madeline said with disappointment, for she had been correct in her thinking. “And your description fits, somewhat.” Eve was going to be terribly disappointed.
“Who is he?” shrieked Cassie.
***
Eve sat there, silent, her stomach churning. The tone of her mother’s voice suddenly made her not want to know who he was. Whatever her mother was about to tell her, it wasn’t good.
“It has to be the Earl of Devonhurst. He is a big man with dark hair and dark eyes, and he is most charming. However, I am sorry to inform you, dear heart, that he was being truthful. It was not a challenge he was issuing you. You need to stay away from him.”
“Yes, I agree with Mother. You don’t want to lose your heart to someone who is unattainable,” Cassie said sadly.
Everyone telling her to stay away from him was not helping her feel any better. Eve liked this Earl of Devonhurst, if indeed her mother was right about his identity. She had taken one look at him and felt warmed by his dark gaze. His lopsided smile had caused her stomach to somersault and her heart to race. He could not be placed on the unacceptable list. He was an earl. His title alone should keep him in the running. “If I promise to protect my heart, will you take me to the Countess of Madison’s this evening? I do w
ish to go.”
“He’s going to be there, isn’t he?” Cassie guessed, clapping her hands together as if she was thrilled by the thought.
“Cassie, dearest, I hear commotion in the hall. Go see who is here,” Mother instructed, and then turned her attention to Eve once Cassie fled from the room. “Now, Evelyn, I’m not only worried about your heart. You said the Earl of Devonhurst did not introduce himself to you. This is because he either did not wish for you to know him or he was too enthralled by you to remember his manners. Knowing him to be a gentleman of the finest ilk, I believe it was the latter. This being the case, you must stay away from him. You are searching for true love and marriage, not a night of pleasure and a lifetime of ostracism.”
“Mother! I’m sure that isn’t his intent.” In spite of her protestations, the one night of pleasure did sound interesting in Eve’s mind. She tried to picture the earl sans clothing but stopped when she noticed her mother’s glare.
“Please trust me, dearest. I know about such things. The Earl of Devonhurst is in the habit of removing himself from any and all eligible females. Everyone knows this.”
“Very well. Then he will keep his distance from me and we can still attend,” Eve said, trying to convince her mother they should still go to the event. She hoped her mother was wrongly labeling the earl, but Evelyn knew her mother rarely made mistakes of this kind. And yet, she still wished to see him.
“True enough, but remember he does so because he is against marriage. I do not want him suddenly deciding to make an exception to his rule by seducing my daughter. He told you he is married to bachelorhood. Why are you purposely missing my point?”
“Of course, you are right. I shall stay away from him.” Eve felt deflated by this news but tried to remain hopeful about her prospects. The Season had only begun and she was bound to meet more men like him. Or would she?
“That’s my girl. I promise we’ll find you the perfect suitor.”
The Perfect Suitor (Bewildering Love Series) Page 2
