by Reid, Stacy
Her heart was beating a terrified tempo. “You are a marquess, a future duke, the world will not hate you forever. You are wealthy and powerful, even now, they cannot cut—”
“No, Evie, I did not speak lightly when I said we are worlds apart. You visit my estate in secret, you speak and play with my daughter, never slighting her and I adore you for it, but it is done in secret, Evie. You would never let it be known to your friends and family you took off your shoes and played on the grass; that in the past you’ve slipped away and you actually visited my tenants and ate with them on St. Stephen’s Day. I’m certain you did not tell your fashionable set of the gifts you handed to my tenants’ children, for they would shame you for it. I doubt you would ever allow the polite world to know how much you are coming to love Emily. If we marry, what would you do, encourage me to ship her to boarding school? Or would you also publicly claim her as our daughter? Claim all the children as ours?”
“I—”
“You would not claim her or the children. If you tried, society would flay you alive for even daring to associate with me. I’ve already suffered the betrayal of one woman who should have protected Emily with everything inside her. What faith do I have that you will withstand such a challenge and not turn your back on those who share my heart when you can no longer withstand their derision?”
Her throat ached, and a deep pain pierced her heart.
“Our time together has been more than I ever dreamed of, but you would be ashamed to call my life your own, and I would not suffer for us to be the brunt of your shame and disdain. I will not suffer having a wife who is enmeshed in a cruel and hypocritical society that I loathe. A wife who will no doubt feel keen regret at aligning herself with my family and me after she is made to feel the wrath of society for daring to acknowledge a bastard, and for marrying a disgraced lord.”
She slowly swiped away the tears running down her face. “This is what you believe of me? In all the years we have been friends, this is what you truly believe in me as a person?”
A chilling distance formed within his gaze. “Yes,” he said flatly.
Her eyes closed against the condemnation in his eyes, and she felt as though she couldn’t drag enough air into her lungs. “And this is why you have been so adamant in not courting me, despite the affection and the desires you palpably possess for me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh!” She could not think without pain. “It is not for you to determine my strength and tell me what I will wilt under. You do not get to decide my strength.”
A hard smile touched his lips and he waved his hand, encompassing them. “And you are kidnapping me. Is that not you, Evie, deciding for me when I’ve said I will not be a party to a pain you cannot yet comprehend?”
All of her dreams shattered into pieces around her silly naive feet.
“Evie—”
“No, do not speak my name,” she whispered, lifting her gaze to his. “How utterly foolish of me to want your tender regards when you believe me to be vain, shallow, pretentious, and indifferent to the pain of others. I would never want to marry a man who had so little regard for my character and honor. How utterly misguided of me to have loved you so desperately for six years, waiting in half agony and half hope that one day you might admire and desire me as ardently as I do you!”
“Evie—”
“No! How dare you judge me by your ridiculously exacting standards. How dare you assume everyone in our society is heartless and preys on the weak. Ignorance does not mean indifference. Being privileged and wealthy does not guarantee heartlessness. You judge our society harshly and me along with it, without truly considering my heart and character. If you were half the honorable man I thought you were, you would see you are not the only one who cares, who fights, and who bleeds for those less fortunate! If you ever possessed any affections for me, you could not believe me to be so puffed up with vanity for myself and higher circumstances.”
Her voice was disparaging, and she did not care to temper her words. She jabbed a finger at his chest. “I would never hurt Emily or the children to please anyone, and for you…for you to believe such of me…to believe I am that disgusting in character and still touch me with such passion—you are cruel,” she whispered, uncaring that tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. “How did I ever have the misfortune to think I wanted to marry you?”
His gaze hooded. “Many ladies confuse their first taste of passion with love. I’ve experienced it enough times. The love and need you feel will fade in a few days. Only a couple weeks ago, you wanted lessons in seduction to trap another into marriage.”
“You insufferable idiot. You were the man I wanted to entice into my arms. It has always been you. Every suitor I’ve discouraged was because you stole my reasoning and my heart years ago.”
He jerked as if she had punched him.
“I would not marry you now even if you fell onto your knees in a crowded ballroom and asked. I’ve loved you…” Her voice broke. “I loved you when the world called you a heartless knave, a libertine, for I had trust in your honor. I adored you, even more, when you claimed your Emily and suffered being shunned for it.” She leaned forward and touched his scar fleetingly. “I loved you at all times. I have been slow to step from the golden world I was born into, to see the pain and suffering, but never did I revile you for seeing it before me…yet while knowing my true heart for all these years, you believe me to be such a wretched friend. You have broken my trust…you’ve broken me. I never want to see you again.”
Evie pushed from the carriage, impervious to the rain that sleeted from the sky. A sob tore from her throat, and she walked away from the broken-down equipage, uncaring of where she traveled, uncaring of the cold. She had wagered everything for him, her heart, her reputation, her virtue, and she had failed.
She had risked it because she had believed in the admiration she thought he had for her, she had trusted in the desire in his touch and his kisses, she had believed it meant everything, when in truth, it was of little consequence to him. Yet, nothing could overshadow the pain that he would think so little of her character.
I do not trust nor love.
Wrapping her arms around her middle and hunching her shoulders against the rain, she hurried away aimlessly. If only she could outrun the tearing pain and disappointment. Evie pressed her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. How truly dispossessed of sense she had been. How could I have been so foolishly naive? Several minutes rushed by before she faltered. She hated to return in his direction and the hovering scandal. A violent shiver worked itself through her body. It took her a few moments to realize she was surrounded by utter darkness, and a voice was yelling her name somewhere in the distance.
Another shiver worked through her, and an unexpected sneeze escaped her.
“Evie!”
She moved toward the voice, desperate to leave the cold, the fear, and the uncertainty drowning her. The sky opened more, and the deluge came harder. Her coat was heavy from being waterlogged, her bonnet and hair soaked.
“Evie!”
She wanted to ignore his call, hating the pain tearing through her heart, hating that he’d rushed after her when she wanted to be away from him. Her head pounded, her limbs ached, and the shivers would not cease. “Richard,” she tried to yell, but her voice came out a mere croak.
Somehow, he found her through the sheet of rain, grabbed her, and swung her into his arms.
I’m so cold…
Strong arms held her in a protective, gentle embrace, so at odds with the furious pounding coming from the chest her head was pressed against.
“God’s blood, Evie, what were you thinking, dashing off in the rain like this?” The whisper was harsh, yet filled with such concern. She wanted to stir and reassure him she would be well.
He moved with her with such strength, almost running as if her weight was negligible. She drifted, her mind desperate to succumb to the darkness tugging at her so insistently, but the chill piercing he
r bones would not allow her to retreat.
Voices echoed around her, a horse neighed, and then Richard’s voice was issuing sharp commands.
“Upon my word! Is that Lady Evelyn?”
“This is beyond the pale, why do you have her out here, you blackguard?” another male voice demanded.
There were several gasps and murmurs, and then she was bundled into a coat that smelled like him. Instantly she hated the scent, and a harsh sob tore from her throat. She tried to push the coat from her, not wanting anything to remind her of him, yet his scent was the only solace she could find.
“No,” she murmured weakly.
“You need to keep warm, my dear,” a lady’s voice soothed. “What happened, why were you out in this ghastly weather?”
She was once again gathered into arms…his arms. She moaned a feeble protest.
“Westfall! It is highly inappropriate for you to hold Lady Evelyn so close. Hand her to me,” a familiar male voice muttered.
“If you value your fat, stubby fingers, Lord Muir, I suggest you keep them to yourself. I will slice them from your hand if you attempt to touch her again,” Richard said with soft menace.
Voices swirled in the carriage, some strident, angry, and others rife with speculation. Evie did not care. Her heart had been pierced, and she feared it would never be mended. With that painful and inexplicable awareness, she allowed her lids to close and slid into the oblivion of a faint.
Chapter Fourteen
Richard paced the floor. He had not slept in twenty-four hours. His mind was in turmoil and irrevocably frozen on the piercing pain that he had seen in Evie’s eyes.
It is me who will never marry a man like you.
Her words haunted him. He had always been so decisive choosing his path in life, so certain of his purpose in all he did, yet now he felt adrift, and his heart warned him he had made a mistake that he would never recover from. He could only hope with time she would understand he did this to save her from a life of bitterness.
God’s blood. There was a damned hole in his chest, one that felt as if it was incapable of being healed. Not even when Aurelia had thrown him over for her rich earl had he felt such a sense of wrenching loss. Evie had been such a constant in his life these years that he’d never once imagined her not part of it. She made him feel as if he belonged, a feeling that had been missing from his life for the longest time.
He couldn’t imagine never having the comfort and pleasure of Evie’s friendship to cling to when he felt lonely.
You have broken my trust…you’ve broken me…I never want to see you again. She was the one person he wanted more than anything, and he’d hurt her. Hell’s teeth. Somehow, he’d never thought they would have such a break in their friendship. He couldn’t imagine losing her good opinion forever.
He ruthlessly tried to squash the emotional upheaval so he could try to consider rationally what to do concerning the scandal roaring through the ton. A day had not fully passed, and several scandal sheets had already mentioned their midnight assignation while attaching all manner of lurid speculation to their names. The bloody vultures. One had even theorized perhaps they had been eloping to Gretna Green because Lady Evie had fallen prey to his seductive wiles. Christ, if they knew how bold and intriguing she had been. Another had painted him a marauding scarred villain, an outcast from society who had tried to debauch their fair diamond.
He would need to do all in his power to stem the tide of gossip. It would shred Evie to be the butt of such scandal, and he needed to do everything to protect her reputation, simply because it was important to her. Richard could walk away unchallenged from any taint society wanted to paint over his name, he had been doing it for years. This new scandal was just another in the unending speculation into his life since he had claimed his daughter. Though he was damned glad the society gossips were painting him the rightful debaucher and villain, and Evie their wronged innocent.
He’d crafted two plans of action. If Evie proved to be without child, he would find a gentleman of upstanding qualities and circumstances for her to wed, and the man would understand his life would be at risk if he ever hurt her. Richard would use all his wealth and influence to bury all scandal shrouding her name, even if he had to resort to blackmail to get it done.
He slapped a hand against his chest at the pain that pierced him at the thought of Evie on another’s arm. Christ. When would he be able to move past this hunger and the torturous need for her?
If she was with child, they would wed and face the storm together, and pray they were not wrecked in the aftermath. The sense of rightness that filled him at that solution had Richard gritting his teeth.
There was a commotion outside, and his butler, Mr. Nugent, shouted a curse, and then it seemed as if he tussled with someone. Richard reached for the cane with his foil and exited his library on light feet, prowling through the hallway toward the entrance of the manor.
He appeared in time to see a disheveled Ravenswood punching Mr. Nugent flat on his ass. Richard had expected Elliot, the man was Evie’s protective older brother, and he fully expected Elliot to challenge him to a duel.
“Ravenswood,” Richard said calmly. He flicked a glance at his butler who had launched to his feet with a dangerous glower. “It’s quite fine, Mr. Nugent. I’ve been expecting Lord Ravenswood. Shall we take this to the library?”
Without waiting for an answer, Richard spun on his heel and went back to the library. He’d expected this reckoning from the minute he had taken her home to his estate with some of the ton’s most interfering gossips following and observing. His only concern had been to remove her soaked clothes and stop her shivering. Propriety be damned, Evie’s health had been a priority.
At Kencourt Manor, he’d taken her to his rooms, undressed her and dried her hair, and had her clothes laundered. He stayed up through the night, watching her, forcing her awake to drink water when she had muttered of her thirst. In the morning, at her insistence, he had delivered a quiet and somber Evie to Rosette Park. She had traveled in his carriage, and he had ridden his horse beside her, understanding their relationship had irrevocably changed and at a loss on how to fix the damage his actions had wrought.
He allowed Elliot to precede him into the library, and then Richard closed the door.
His friend spun to face him, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. His eyes were red, and Richard had never seen the viscount look so unkempt. Regret kicked him hard and brutal in the gut.
“Elliot, I—”
“What happened? We were sent an urgent summons by the Duchess of Wolverton to attend Evie at Rosette Park. Despite our questions, Her Grace has remained tight-lipped on how you came to deliver Evie to her home in such a state. The newspapers with their God-awful speculations have not helped. Mother collapsed and is prostrate with grief. She is beside herself with fear. I’ve never seen Father so broken and lost. An explanation must be had, man.”
Richard frowned. Fear? The countess was very much concerned with her social standing and the rumormongering of society, but he’d never believe a scandal would elicit such a reaction. Her father is broken? Christ, he had much to repair.
“It is complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it,” Elliot snarled, fisting his hands at his side. “What the hell were you doing with my sister? Lord Muir said he came upon you in the rain with her in your arms. I demand an explanation.”
Richard walked over to the mantel, leaned his cane against the wall, and poured brandy into two glasses. He handed one to the viscount, while he downed the other.
“With the aid of the Duke of Wolverton, Evie had me kidnapped. The axle on our carriage broke, we argued, I was harsh, and she fled into the rain. I ran after her,” he said succinctly.
Elliot froze. “Evie kidnapped you?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “That makes no sense. And Wolverton helped her? To what purpose? Why would she do this?”
Richard braced himself. “For I
had compromised her virtue, and she was fierce and courageous in defending her honor by forcing me to marry her.”
The glass in Elliot’s hand shattered, and cold rage leaped in his eyes. He opened his palm and allowed the shards of glass and liquid to drop to the green Persian carpet. Richard expected him to issue a challenge, or haul off and punch him in the face, and he was flummoxed when Elliot did neither. Instead, he pressed his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes.
When his lids flickered open, a warning slithered through Richard at the fear he saw. What the hell was this?
“I’ve always known Evie loved you,” Elliot murmured, his voice rough with grief. “I knew it, and I did nothing to curb the desire or to limit the friendship you and she formed, though it was so unorthodox and had come under scrutiny more than once. Lady Trenear had ripped your heart open, and then society tried to finish the job because you loved your daughter…and I thought Evie’s genuine warmth, her gentle grace and beauty, would save you from that cold, lonely place you seem to reside in.” A rough bark of a laugh slipped from him. “Knowing Evie’s stubborn nature, the minute Mother and Father brought more pressure to wed as they are doing to me, she would have tried to secure your hand by any means possible. I’m certain you had no understanding as to what the hell was happening. I should put a bullet in you for succumbing and making her feel as if she needed to force your hand, but what the hell does it all matter now?”
