“How should I go about this?” she whispered to herself. “Should I climb into his bed and awaken him with a kiss? Or should I simply lie beside him and wait for him to find me in the morning?”
From her current position, Nicholas’ bedchamber was only three doors away. There was no turning back. Her charm had failed her. She hated to resort to dirty tactics, but she knew she would thank herself later.
Or would she? Her knees were frozen as she stood outside his door.
“How very interesting,” a familiar masculine voice uttered over her shoulder. “Why, may I ask, are you wandering around in your bedclothes? And why, may I ask, are you standing outside his lordship’s door?”
Oh, no no no! Evangeline couldn’t believe her bad luck. She was so close, but the stupid valet had to stick his nose in again. Drat the man!
Slowly, Evangeline turned to face him. She pasted on a fake smile, but she was sure he could see right through it. She could never be an actress, for she was a very poor pretender. “What are you doing outside his lordship’s door, wearing only your bedclothes?” she retaliated.
He would have said touché, if only it were true. He was clad in his shirtsleeves, not his bedclothes. Nevertheless, he saw no reason to embarrass the girl any more than she already was. She tried to be calm, but there was a telltale blush on her cheeks. “I am his valet. It isn’t uncommon for me to wander around at night. Is it not my job to see to his lordship’s lasting comfort?”
Evangeline crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover herself. However, the effect seemed to draw more attention to her breasts. Not that Jonathan was looking…
“I have yet to hear an explanation as to why you are here, my lady.”
Evangeline puckered her lips and sneered at him. If she could see herself in the mirror, she would have ceased the expression at once. It wasn’t very pretty. “Why do I owe you an explanation?”
“I am just concerned. It isn’t often you see an innocent young woman prowling--”
“I wasn’t prowling!”
“…outside a bachelor’s door, unless she has a problem of some urgency,” Jonathan went on. “Or a motive.”
“What are you suggesting?!” Her face held the hateful expression. “I… I only meant to give him a book!”
“In your nightgown?”
“I didn’t think anything of it.”
His eyebrow quirked. “In the middle of the night?”
“It is a very important book!”
“Really?” His eyebrow inched higher up his forehead. “And where is this mysterious book? Have you stashed it away inside your mysterious nightgown?”
“Ugh!” Evangeline snarled at him. “Why must you be so… so awful? Is there ever a day when you wake up in a good mood? Do you ever wake up and decide to be pleasant for a change?”
“On the contrary, I am always pleasant. I am sorry you find me so deplorable, my lady. I really do have my friend’s best interests at heart.”
“I shouldn’t be standing around consorting with a valet in the middle of the night. Or any other time of day, for that matter!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “To make matters worse, you’re not even properly clothed.”
Jonathan grinned at her. “Neither are you.”
“Hmpf!”
Evangeline spun on her heel. She had hoped to make a dramatic exit, but she wasn’t so lucky. As she stomped away, Evangeline nearly tripped on the hem of her nightgown.
A few seconds later, Nicholas popped his head out the door.
“Jonathan?” His lordship looked groggy. “What was that all about? I thought I heard voices.”
Jonathan smiled as he recalled Evangeline’s ungraceful exit. The girl was amusing, he had to give her that.
“Nothing, sir,” the valet answered quietly. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter Eight
The next day, Evangeline was feeling more optimistic. She had no reason for her positive attitude, other than the fact that she felt renewed. Lord Penworth would be hers soon enough.
Evangeline felt foolish for last night’s antics. She didn’t need to resort to trickery when there was still a chance she could woo him the old-fashioned way. Or, better yet, she could get him to woo her. In her opinion, it was the man’s job to secure the affections of the female, lest the lady look too desperate.
Evangeline was eager to assume the role of the elusive coquette, and she was about to have her chance. Nicholas was heading in her direction. Raising her head, she proceeded to walk past him.
Notice me, she silently pleaded. Tell me how fine I look this morning. Say something kind and flattering. Tell me you want to spend time with me.
“Good morning, Miss Evangeline.”
Nicholas had stopped beside her. Feigning disinterest, she turned her head to look at him. By God, he was handsome! No man had any right to look so good in the morning.
“Oh… hello, Nicholas. I almost didn’t see you,” she lied. “Please, just call me Evangeline. We are friends, are we not? Or… if we are truly friends, you should call me Eve or Evie.”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I will call you Evangeline from now on. I cannot help but want to be proper when I see your lovely face. You are, after all, every bit of a lady.”
“Ohhh, Nicholas,” Evangeline breathed his name as she simpered at him. “You are too kind to me. Ever since you’ve been here, you have been nothing but kind to me and my poor, dear mama.”
“And you have both been very kind to me,” said Nicholas. “You have been most welcoming.”
“Well, this is your house.”
“Still, I felt like a stranger when I stepped through the door. As soon as I met the pair of you, I felt at ease.” He smiled down at her. And then, unexpectedly, he offered her an arm. “Are you busy, Evangeline? Perhaps we could take a turn around the garden?”
“Gladly,” she cheered, coiling her arm around his.
“Of course… if you don’t feel up to it, do not be ashamed to tell me.”
“I am more than happy to accompany you.”
“After your fall from the horse the other day, I thought you might be unfit for--”
With a roll of her eyes, Evangeline interrupted him, “Nicholas, I am fine. I am spry and healthy and I am never ill. Injury never keeps me down. I’m not one of those weak, famished women who are always prone to fainting. A fall from a horse is nothing, I assure you.”
Nicholas chuckled. Evangeline certainly had a way with words. With her arm in his, they started to head outside. “You could have had broken bones from such a fall. You might have broken your arm… or an ankle. I knew a man who fell from his horse and broke several ribs.”
“That sounds dreadful,” said Evangeline, nose puckered. “Well, I am glad that didn’t happen to me! If anything is broken, it is my pride.”
“Your pride, my lady?” Nicholas raised an eyebrow. “Why should the fall have any effect on your pride? Your horse was misbehaving. It could have happened to anyone.”
He held open the door for her, and she stepped gracefully into the garden. It was a romantic setting, she thought. And he was being very amiable today. She wondered if his changed attitude was a sign of progress being made. She knew she would make progress when her mama and that dreadful valet stopped tagging along.
Nicholas stepped out and took her arm again. “It’s a very lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but don’t think I’d be willing to go for another ride simply because of the nice weather,” Evangeline said. “I have sworn off horses… for awhile, at least.”
Nicholas laughed. “I wouldn’t think of putting you back on a horse after your little mishap.”
“Little mishap?” She nudged him with her elbow. “That’s like calling a dragonfly a little insect.”
He laughed again. If she kept this up, she’d make his sides hurt. “You are very charming today, Lady Evangeline.”
“Just Evangeline, please,” she demanded. “You know, you ha
ve been very cruel to me.”
Nicholas’ forehead wrinkled. “I was cruel? When?”
“I said that if we were truly friends, you should call me Eve or Evie. And then you insisted on calling me Evangeline, which can only mean our friendship is not what I hoped it would be.”
“Nonsense!” Nicholas reached out to pluck a carnation from its stem. When he handed it to her, he flashed a smile that nearly melted her heart. “I would like to count you as a friend. I just didn’t know which you would prefer. Eve, or Evie?”
“I suppose… Eve is best,” Evangeline said. “Evie makes me sound like a child, doesn’t it?”
“Or a gypsy?”
“Yes, a gypsy.” Evangeline looked down at her carnation, which she was now twirling between her fingers. “I suppose I could be a gypsy. I can tell your love fortune, if you are interested.”
“Really, Mistress Evie?”
“Indeed,” she went on. “I need only to look in your eyes. And you must hold my gaze for several seconds, or it won’t work.” She chuckled at the preposterousness of her own words. “I need to look deep into your soul.”
“Are you sure it would be proper to hold my gaze so long?”
Evangeline tucked the carnation, her gift from Nicholas, behind her ear. She thought she was having a breakthrough with him. He was actually enjoying her company. He liked her. She could tell. “You need not worry about propriety with Mistress Evie. She is a gypsy, after all. She’s not exactly a rule-abiding young lady, is she?” She shrugged. “Or I could read your palm instead.”
Nicholas led her to a nearby bench. He waited for her to sit, and sat beside her. His first impression of her was proving false. When she tried, she was a very charming girl. She impressed him with her easygoing attitude and quick wit. “So, Miss Evie, how much will this fortune set me back?”
“A fortune will cost you a fortune,” Evangeline said with a chuckle. “No, wait… a shilling? No!” She rapidly shook her head. “I take it back. For you, my lord, I will tell your fortune for free.”
He was hoping she would ask for a kiss as payment. He didn’t know why he wanted to kiss her. After all, he’d been quite taken with the mother, not the daughter. “I, um… yes…” He was already shifting in his seat. “T-this is… how should we go about this?”
“Give me your hand,” she commanded him.
He offered his hand, and Evangeline bent close to it, observing the lines on his palm.
“Mmm-hmm,” she traced the longest line with her finger. “I see. Uh-huh.” She would have to make up some more nonsense, but at least she might amuse him.
“What is it?”
“I am reading your love fortune. How old are you, my lord? I need to know your exact age if you want an accurate interpretation.”
“I am… four and thirty,” he admitted.
“So, you have lived about a third of your life, yes?”
Nicholas chuckled. He watched her cradle his hand, and he had to admit he liked it. “I suppose so, if you’re being optimistic. It isn’t as though I expect to be a hundred.”
“Well, according to these lines, you will live a long life. And… this line right here…” She gently poked his palm. “It's your love line. A grand love is about to enter your life.”
“Really?”
“There’s no mistaking it!” Evangeline declared as she released his hand. “Now, look at me, and hold my gaze. Do not break it!”
Nicholas lifted his chin and did as he was told. If she wanted him to stare at her, he wasn't going to complain. He liked to look at her. She was a very pretty girl, and her eyes were the prettiest shade of brown.
Amber, he thought. She has amber eyes.
“I see… that you… are fortunate,” she said. “You’ve longed for a more simple life.” Evangeline smiled at him, and her dimples reappeared. “You like Yorkshire, do you not?”
“I confess I do.”
“You have a fierce soul,” Evangeline told him. “You fight for what you believe in.”
“Thank you.”
With a shrug, Evangeline finally turned her eyes away from him. “There’s no need to thank me! I’m just telling it like I see it!”
“Right…”
Evangeline ran her hands over her dreary black gown. Had she known she would be spending critical time with Nicholas, she would have worn a more flattering dress. And she would have spent more time on her hair. Oh well! It was no use fussing about things she could not fix. “You are a man of few words, Nicholas. I can never tell what you are thinking. It’s always single-word answers with you.” She lowered her voice and attempted her best impersonation of him. “Right. Thank you. Really?”
Nicholas threw his head back with a roar of laughter. “Goodness, how you make me laugh!” If she was a man, he would have given her a playful shove. “I’ll have you know… thank you is a TWO-word answer.”
“A slight improvement,” she acknowledged.
“I was trying to remain silent while you told my fortune!” he told her. “It was very serious business, wasn't it?”
“Of course it was.”
He turned to face her, hoping she would hold his gaze again. “I like talking with you, Evangeline. You make me smile. You’re very refreshing. You’re not like the London girls.”
Evangeline squared her shoulders. Was he complimenting her or insulting her? Had she made a muddle of her mission? “Um… how so, my lord? How am I different?”
“You always say what’s on your mind, as if you haven’t a care in the world. You aren’t encumbered by society,” Nicholas explained. “I find your mother very refreshing as well. She is simple and charming, and always subtle.”
Evangeline wanted to groan when he mentioned her mother. “And provincial?” she offered hopefully.
“Your mother isn’t anything like you, though. She rarely speaks her mind.”
“Or speaks at all, for that matter,” Evangeline said, not caring if she sounded harsh. “She can be quite boring sometimes.”
“Actually, I find her fascinating.”
Then get married and let her be Lady Penworth all over again. Let her bear your children and live happily ever after. But do it quickly, because she is running out of years!
Evangeline was seething, lost in her hostile thoughts. Her mother was her rival! What a lowering thought!
“Well, my lord, I must be going,” she said. “I will be able to speak to you again?”
“I should hope so! I have enjoyed our time together.”
Without another word, Evangeline rose from the bench and headed back to the house. Stupid, foolish man. If he likes me, he shouldn’t talk about another woman like that, mother or not! Toiling with an impressionable young girl’s heart!? Does he have any conscience at all? He’s still trying to make me jealous, the insolent wretch!
Evangeline surged down the hall with thunder in her footsteps. They were getting along so well—until her mother had to creep into the conversation. Evangeline was determined to get her revenge. She would make Nicholas jealous, and show him what it was like.
She knew just the man for the job.
Lord Trevelan.
Her older beau would be just the man to make Nicholas' blood boil!
Grinning, Evangeline pushed open the door to the library. She needed a good book to numb her mind from her troubles.
Unfortunately, more trouble was waiting for her in the library.
Chapter Nine
Jonathan Winters was sitting in the library, reading a book. He had his feet on the table, crossed at the ankles, with a pair of spectacles on his nose. He held the book in one hand, because one hand was all he had. Evangeline wondered how he turned the pages.
Jonathan looked up when he heard her come in. Was it her imagination, or did he smile when he saw her? It was a very faint smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.
And, heaven forbid, Evangeline’s heart started racing when their eyes met. She silently chided herself for it.
; “Oh… hello,” he said. He didn’t move from the chair, or bother to remove his feet from the table. Jonathan was unabashedly casual, as if it was perfectly alright for a valet to lounge about wherever he pleased.
“I… um…” He had rendered her tongue-tied, which was even more humiliating than her quickening pulse.
Jonathan laid the book on the table, removed his spectacles, and studied her. It was as if he could see right through her.
If he can read my mind, Evangeline speculated, does he know I’m surprised to see him reading a book? Does he know I think he's handsome?
Evangeline chided herself again. Handsome?! She must be going mad! There was nothing handsome about him! Jonathan Winters was too pale to be handsome. He had deep-set eyes, with dark circles beneath them. He had a wide mouth, and his messy brown hair was wholly unappealing. She had a strong distaste for everything about his appearance.
Didn’t she?
“Well, then… I guess I should be leaving,” Jonathan said, pushing back from the table. He stood up, book in hand, and headed for the door.
But Evangeline wasn’t ready to see him go. Somewhere deep down—deep, deep down—she enjoyed running into him.
“W-what book were you reading?”
“Oh, this?” Jonathan lifted the book. “I, uh… well… it’s a bit embarrassing.”
“What could possibly embarrass you?” Evangeline sniped at him, having relocated her backbone. “Unless it’s a children’s book!”
He laughed. “No, it’s not that. It’s a book of poetry,” he told her. “My mother used to read poems to me when I was a child.”
“Oh… how nice,” Evangeline said, though she tried to not to seem too interested. “So, she was an intelligent woman?”
“Yes. Both of my parents were well-educated.”
“And you as well? Oh, that’s right. Nicholas did say your parents were gentlefolk, didn’t he?” Though she continued to speak, she could hardly concentrate on her words. She was too busy discovering the breadth of his shoulders. Jonathan Winters was a broad man. He was shorter than Lord Penworth, but he had the build of a farmhand.
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