Senseless Sensibilities

by K. L. O'Keefe

  “Your hand! It’s gone!” Evangeline gasped. She made it sound as if she expected it to reappear.

  Though he felt like a lout for doing so, Nicholas chuckled at her horrified reaction. “Jonathan, must you be so wicked? The poor girl… you should learn to behave yourself in front of the ladies.”

  “How horrible,” Evangeline said with a sneer. Now she was suffering from a loss of appetite. Why would he flash his mangled hand like some sort of grotesque trophy? Stupid valet!

  “How did it happen?” When Anne spoke, there was pity in her voice. Or was it sympathy? Either way, her reaction was very different from her daughter’s. Both men noted the difference.

  “You needn’t feel sorry for me, my lady. It happened quite some time ago,” Jonathan admitted. “I was a soldier in the king’s army.”

  “Does it give you pain?” Evangeline asked, staring at the missing hand as if it was something lewd.

  “No, it does not,” Jonathan answered with a chuckle. “It happened over four years ago.”

  Evangeline turned away and squared her shoulders. “Will you please get rid of it, Valet? I do not wish to see it any longer.”

  With another chuckle, Jonathan lowered his hand. Someone else might have been offended by the harshness of her words, but not Jonathan. Actually, he thought she was rather amusing.

  Nicholas, however, did not see any humor in the frankness of her words. How could he possibly enjoy her mistreatment of his closest friend? “My valet’s name is Jonathan Winters, my lady.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Evangeline raised her chin. “And what would you have me call him? Mister Winters, perhaps?” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in her tone.

  Anne laid a hand on Nicholas’ arm in an attempt to subdue his frustration. If he was angry with her daughter, she would not blame him. He was unfamiliar with Evangeline’s sharp tongue.

  After a few seconds of hesitation, Nicholas answered, “Winters would be fine.”

  “I, for one, would not mind being called Mister Valet,” Jonathan said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “It has a nice ring to it.”

  Evangeline saw the look of distaste on Nicholas’ handsome face. His Greek god-like features would be better accompanied by a smile, she decided. It was her goal to charm him, not upset him. She quickly amended her attitude. “Winters is what I will call him from now on. I apologize if I offended you, Lord Penworth.” She forced her gaze on the valet. “And I apologize to you as well.”

  Her apology was met with a grin. Why was the valet always grinning at her? She hated him for it.

  “It is quite alright, Lady Evangeline,” Nicholas said. How could he be angry at someone with such a pretty face? “Jonathan is not easily offended.”

  When she met Nicholas’ blue gaze again, Evangeline's heart fluttered. She was so transfixed by him, the peas she had carefully corralled onto her fork spilled onto her dress. “Oh… how foolish of me,” Evangeline excused herself, swiping the runaway peas into a cloth. She blushed.

  And Evangeline never blushed.

  Winters had the audacity to pluck one of the peas from her gown. Holding it between two fingers, he said, “A few peas on the lap never hurt anyone.”

  “But you, sir, have peas between your ears! That's an entirely different story!” she whispered, loud enough for anyone to hear. Fortunately, no one else was paying attention. At the moment, her mother and Nicholas were engaged in a private conversation. If Evangeline wasn’t mistaken, Nicholas’ eyes were fixed on her mama’s ample décolletage.

  Nicholas, her Nicholas, was way too focused on her mama.

  “Or is he trying to make me jealous…?” Evangeline whispered to herself, still convinced she could win the affections of her second cousin.

  “Pardon?” Winters asked, leaning toward her.

  She gave him a nasty look. “I wasn’t talking to you. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

  “Oh, but I do like sitting beside you,” he professed. “I rather enjoy your waspish tongue.”

  “You should be shining shoes,” Evangeline said with a sigh.

  “And you could show a little more kindness,” he countered.

  Evangeline decided to ignore the valet’s comment. Instead, she returned her attention to Lord Penworth.

  “Do you like horses, Lord Penworth?” Evangeline asked, raising her voice. “Do you ever ride?”

  “Yes, I do.” His answer was curt, practically disinterested.

  “Riding in London cannot be the same as riding in the moors.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re right,” Nicholas agreed. “And that gives me an idea. Would you and your mother care to join me for a ride tomorrow?”

  Her nose puckered at the idea of her mother accompanying them. “Yes. And I understand why mama should come. We would need a chaperone, would we not? Of course.” Her fake smile penetrated the entire length of her cheeks. “Mama, would you like to go for a ride? We must show Lord Penworth the beauty of Yorkshire.”

  “It has been a long time since I’ve ridden a horse,” said Anne, “but I would like that very much.”

  Nicholas and his valet were locking gazes, and for one horrifying moment, Evangeline feared he would invite the other man to their outing.

  “It will be nice, with the three of us,” Evangeline said. “Very nice indeed.”

  With that, she stabbed a pea with her fork, ensuring she would not lose it.

  Chapter Five

  Nicholas sometimes settled for less than perfection. After meeting the two ladies of the house, he would settle for nothing less. For the first time in four years, he regretted having a one-handed valet.

  “It’s still a bit crooked,” Nicholas said, noting an imperfection in the cravat Jonathan had tied.

  “A bit picky, are we?” Jonathan teased. “Trust me, I tied your cravat exactly the same way I tie it every other day. What, pray tell, could have inspired such attention to detail?”

  Nicholas peered over his shoulder, where his friend stood behind him. “Nothing, Jonathan.”

  “Let me guess. You're trying to impress the ladies?” Jonathan asked. “I wish I knew which one has captured your interest.”

  “Lady Evangeline is very beautiful,” Nicholas said, making some minor adjustments to his necktie as he studied himself in the looking glass.

  “Yes, she is pretty,” his friend agreed. “But she’s also very childish. And waspish. And spoiled.”

  “She doesn’t like you.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “You noticed that, did you? Well, she really seems to like you. It would be impossible to doubt her motives.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She's very taken with you. Mark my words, that one will try to leg-shackle you.”

  “I would never involve myself with a girl so young,” Nicholas countered. “I am twice her age, after all.”

  “Young brides are hardly uncommon.”

  “Marriage is the last thing on my mind!” Nicholas barked. “Especially to a child!”

  “Really? And what about the mother?”

  Nicholas closed his eyes. When he did, he saw an image of Lady Penworth’s pale-skinned perfection. Her ebony hair was such a stark contrast to her powdery complexion. It was impossible to deny her beauty, despite her advanced years.

  But how old could she be? She looked no older than five and thirty. Or forty, at the very most.

  “Interesting…” Jonathan said, noting his friend’s hesitation. “Mentioning the mother has reduced you to a state of meditative bliss. Very interesting indeed!”

  “Anne is very beautiful as well,” Nicholas finally spoke, opening his eyes again. “She even holds a candle to her daughter.”

  “And she has all the grace her daughter lacks.”

  “Mmm.” Nicholas failed to give a proper response, as he was currently picturing the older woman’s breasts, accentuated by the cut of the gown she wore to dinner.

  “And how old was your uncle? I’d like to
have half that man’s luck!” Jonathan went on. “Not to mention, I’d like to have half of your luck, Earl of Penworth.”

  “It’s a shame she’s in mourning.”

  “Yes. A shame.”

  “Do you think she loved him?”

  “A man that old? I doubt it.”

  “Then she’s not really in mourning, if she’s not that sad about it,” Nicholas tried to rationalize.

  “Maybe she didn’t love him, but she I'm sure had a fondness for him.” Jonathan suggested. “He was her husband, after all.”

  Nicholas scowled at his friend. “Right...”

  There was a long pause; neither man uttered a word. The women seemed to have made quite an impression on them. Whether the impressions were good or bad, they had yet to discover.

  Finally, Nicholas said, “Well, let’s go then. Shall we?”

  “Do I hear you correctly? You’re inviting me to spend time with two beautiful ladies? To have a picnic on a grassy hillside? You’re inviting me on an outing that sounds positively wonderful?”

  Nicholas tightened his forehead. “Of course.”

  “And have that girl sneering at me the entire time?” Jonathan shook his head. “Thank you, but I’d rather not.”

  * * *

  Evangeline stood beside her mother and the horses, pouting like a child.

  “I don’t care for horses,” she said. “They smell.”

  “Then you don’t take after me,” her mother said. At the moment, Anne was tugging her fingers through a pair of black riding gloves. “I’ve always loved horses. Must you always be so disagreeable, Evie? Lately, nothing pleases you.”

  “You cannot blame me for being upset, Mama. I want to woo Lord Nicholas, but I’m not wooing him quickly enough!” She crossed her arms over her chest. Behind her, one of the stable hands rolled his eyes.

  “Give it time, darling!” said her mother. “We have spent one evening with the man! Did you really expect him to fall in love with you at first sight?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s completely ridiculous!” Where did the girl get such foolish ideas?

  “That’s easy for you to say, Mama. He seems to be positively lovesick for you!” She would have stamped her foot, but the ground was a bit soft.

  “That isn’t true, Evie. No man in his right mind would pay attention to me when there was someone as lovely as you around.”

  “That’s what I thought!” Evangeline paused, looking a bit sheepish. As an afterthought she added, “That’s not to say you aren’t beautiful in your own right, Mama.”

  “Love takes time, dear,” her mother tried to reassure her. “Love at first sight is never true love.”

  Evangeline ignored her mother’s words. “Oh no…” she moaned. There were two heads, not one, rounding the hillside. “He brought that dreadful valet!”

  As the men approached, Evangeline cautioned herself against expressing distaste. She wanted to make a good impression on Nicholas, who seemed fiercely defensive of the valet. If pretending to like the valet was the way to Nicholas' heart, then so be it.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Nicholas said, his smile etching lines around his eyes. “You both look lovely.”

  “Thank you, Nicholas,” Anne said, trying out his name for the first time. “You look well, yourself.” She turned her attention to the valet. “Will you be joining us, Mr. Winters?”

  In the corner of her eye, she saw the look of disgust on her daughter’s face. Anne had addressed Jonathan Winters like a gentleman, and Evangeline did not approve. Anne had a very different opinion. Valet or not, he was a friend of Lord Penworth. There was nothing wrong with being polite.

  “As much as it would give me pleasure, my lady, I will not be joining you today,” Jonathan answered.

  The tenseness in Evangeline’s shoulders subsided.

  “What a shame!” said Anne. “The more the merrier.”

  Evangeline gave her mother a slight nudge. As she stepped forward, she batted her eyelashes beneath her black bonnet. “You said you like horses, my lord?” she asked him, flashing her most adorable smile. She had studied herself in front of the looking glass for nearly an hour, pouting her lips and making dimples in her cheeks. She hoped she looked charming.

  “Very much, my lady.”

  “I do love horses,” she lied.

  “Really?”

  “Of course.” Evangeline stood beside one of the horses, petting the beast’s snout with a gloved hand. “Are these your horses, my lord? The groomsman said they were the finest horseflesh.”

  Nicholas studied the steeds, and they were very fine indeed. However, they were not his. “Um, no. I believe they belonged to your father.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” Evangeline quickly amended, wishing she hadn’t claimed to love horses. If she did, wouldn’t she have recognized her father’s own mounts? “My father had many horses. You cannot expect me to remember all of them. But I do love the animals, I assure you.”

  Her mother exchanged glances with the valet.

  “Well, then…” Nicholas turned to Lady Anne. “May I help you onto your horse, my lady?”

  “Of course,” she answered, accepting his proffered hand. “But you must call me Anne. I absolutely insist! If I am calling you by your name, it is only fair.”

  “Anne,” he corrected himself.

  He didn’t just say her name. He purred her name. Once again, Evangeline resisted the temptation to stomp her foot.

  “Can I lend you a hand?” Jonathan said to Evangeline. “Just don’t ask for two hands. I am afraid I can only give you one.”

  “How disturbing,” Evangeline said, reluctantly accepting his assistance. Her ascent onto the horse was so unwieldy, she nearly fell backward on top of him. They both pretended not to notice her lapse of grace. “Must you always say things like that?”

  “I’d rather make light of it than mope about it.”

  When Nicholas, Evangeline and her mother had all mounted their horses, Jonathan took a step backward and touched the brim of his hat. “Farewell, ladies. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

  He looks so sincere, Evangeline thought to herself. She didn’t think valets could show sincerity. Servants were paid to like their masters, were they not? Like dogs looking for treats.

  Nicholas started forward, and the ladies rode beside him: Evangeline on his left, Anne on his right. There were dark clouds in the distance, but no one seemed to notice.

  “Jonathan is like a brother to me,” Nicholas said, directing the comment to Evangeline. For some reason, he felt obligated to explain his relationship with the valet. “He comes from a respectable family, but he fell on hard times. I have offered to help him, but he refuses to accept any charity. Jonathan is a proud man. He is also good and noble.”

  “I think--”

  Anne interrupted her daughter, which is something she never did. “I can tell. Mr. Winters seems like a very smart young man, and very polite. It is difficult to think of him as your valet.”

  “I think he is--”

  “I wish there was some way to elevate him in society,” Nicholas said, “but I am afraid that is impossible now. When I found him, he was living on the streets, and for God knows how long.”

  Evangeline raised her voice, determined to complete her thought. “I think he is a boor.”

  Her mother shook her head, and Nicholas’ jaw twitched.

  “But he is your friend. I am sure you are a good judge of character,” Evangeline

  added quietly.

  “Right.” Nicholas didn’t sound convinced.

  “It all sounds very unfortunate,” Anne said, her voice filled with sympathy. “Mr. Winters sounds like a very unlucky man. But he was lucky to find you, Nicholas, if I may say so.”

  Evangeline rolled her eyes. She was tired of talking about the valet. If she let them, they would probably go on about him all day! “What is it like in London?” she asked Nicholas, swiftly changing the subject. “I have always want
ed to travel there, but my father wouldn't allow it. I long to be a part of London society. I can only imagine how extravagant it must be!”

  “It would suit you well, Lady Evangeline,” said Nicholas. “Without a doubt, you would have an entire legion of beaux, all lining up for a dance with you.”

  Evangeline felt her cheeks grow warm. “R-really, my lord? You really think so?”

  “If your mother will allow it, I must say... you are a very beautiful girl,” he went on. “You would have dozens of suitors, I’m sure.”

  Evangeline’s smile was so wide, it was in danger of stretching past her ears. A compliment never sounded so good. “Thank you, my lord.”

  There was only one beau she wanted, and he was riding beside her.

  Anne spoke up. “This is the first I have heard of Evangeline’s desire to go to London. Now that I am aware of her wishes, we must surely travel there… in another year or so.”

  Evangeline examined Nicholas’ profile. Chiseled jaw. Deep blue eyes. Black hair, with a curl resting on his forehead. Astride his horse, he looked nobler than ever. She was even fond of the lines around his mouth, which deepened each time he smiled. With any luck, Evangeline would not need to go to London. She had already found a perfectly suitable husband.

  Evangeline would have wooed him even if he was homely. His handsome face, however, made the task much more enjoyable.

  In the corner of his eye, Nicholas noticed Evangeline’s examination of him. Her interest piqued his interest. “If the women in Yorkshire are as pretty as both of you, I should have come much sooner.”

  “You flatter us, my lord,” said the mother.

  “It’s not flattery. It is the truth,” Nicholas insisted. “Either of you could easily be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  “I agree… my mother is very pretty,” Evangeline said, sneering slightly. She hated to think of her own mother as competition. It infuriated her. “In her youth, I am sure she was a beautiful woman.”

  “On the contrary,” Nicholas countered, “I am sure she has gotten more beautiful with age.”