Senseless Sensibilities

by K. L. O'Keefe

“Yes,” she acknowledged. “It matches the dress.”

  “So it does.”

  “Thank you for the gift, my lord.”

  What happened to the spirited girl he had grown accustomed to? Evangeline was showing him the same disdain as her mother. “Why are you frowning?” he asked.

  “Because, sir, you are a blackguard!” she sniped at him. “You have not asked me to dance.”

  “So I haven’t,” he agreed. “Will you forgive me? It would give me great pleasure to dance with you, Evie.”

  Evangeline cracked a smile. She remembered, with fondness, their discussion in the garden. “Evie was my gypsy name.”

  “Right. Do you portend a dance in our immediate future, Mistress Evie?”

  “My next dance is free,” she said, now with a full-fledged smile. Evangeline took his proffered arm and he led her across the floor, where couples were lining up for the dance.

  “These country dances must bore you.”

  “Never!” Nicholas protested. They circled around each other, following the motions of the dance. His movements were as fluid as his demeanor. “With the right partner, no dance would ever bore me.”

  “Am I the right partner?”

  “Of course you are.”

  Evangeline lifted her chin into the air. “Liar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His idea of the “perfect” partner would surely be her mother, but Evangeline didn’t care to elaborate. And she wouldn’t have to elaborate, because the steps of the dance had parted them. When they rejoined one another, she hoped he would forget their current topic. “Our Yorkshire fashions must be terribly outdated,” she said.

  “Really?” His eyes flittered over her dress. “If they are, I haven’t noticed. A gentleman rarely pays attention to that sort of thing.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said with a sigh.

  “Do you mind if I made an observation?” A moment ago, she was smiling. Now she was sighing. Something was affecting her mood, and he wondered what it was.

  “Go on… as long as it isn't rude,” she allowed.

  “You have such a sour look on your face. You haven’t been acting like yourself all night, despite the fact that this is your party. Is something troubling you?”

  “I miss Jonathan,” Evangeline said. It flew out of her mouth before she could even think about it.

  Nicholas’ eyes expanded to a comical size. “You do? Really?”

  Did she? Evangeline wondered. His companionship had grown on her, even if he could be vile at times. “Does it shock you?”

  “Not at all. I hold him in the highest regard.”

  “He seems intelligent for a valet,” Evangeline went on. “I enjoy the conversations I have with him. I suppose, though, I should not call him by his name.”

  “I call him Jonathan all the time. I see nothing wrong with it.”

  “You could have invited him to the party.”

  “Really?” Nicholas looked around at all the fancy guests. “I thought you would be embarrassed by him.”

  “No, you’re right,” Evangeline agreed. “You’re perfectly right. He should not come.”

  Now that Jonathan was the topic of conversation, Evangeline found it hard to concentrate on the dance. She even stumbled a few times. She hoped no one would notice her lack of grace. “Why is he your valet? He was born to a respectable family, wasn’t he? Isn’t there some way you could elevate him? He is your friend, after all.”

  “You don’t know him as well as I do. Jonathan Winters is a proud man. He would not accept anything I would hand out to him. When he had to beg in the streets, it shamed him.”

  “How sad,” Evangeline said, grateful that the dance was over. Nicholas took her by the arm and led her away. When he started to lead her to her mama, Evangeline wanted to poke him. Prod him. Pinch him. Anything that would cause him pain.

  When Lord Trevelan appeared in their path, she was actually relieved.

  “There you are, my dear,” said the older gentleman. “Would your escort mind if I stole you?”

  “I think not,” Evangeline said, exchanging Nicholas’ arm for Trevelan’s. “Thank you for the dance, Nicholas.”

  “It was a pleasure, my lady.” Predictably, after he said this, Nicholas rushed off to find her mother.

  “He’s disgusting,” Evangeline groaned. “He can’t stand to be away from her, not even for a single dance.”

  Trevelan knew what she was referring to, but he didn’t want the conversation to migrate in that direction again. “Would you take a turn around the room with me?” he asked. “Or, better yet, why don’t we go out for a bit of fresh air? We could step out on the balcony. I see no harm in that.”

  Evangeline gave a little shrug of compliance. She hadn’t the heart to disagree. She would have gladly relocated to any place where Nicholas wasn’t fawning over his beloved Lady Anne.

  “I didn’t feel like another dance,” said Lord Trevelan as they stepped out into the cool air. “I am a very inferior partner for the likes of you.”

  Evangeline took a deep breath, the crisp air filling her lungs. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Richard. I didn’t feel like dancing either.”

  “Evangeline…” as he whispered her name, Lord Trevelan reached out to snatch her hand. He held it between his palms, cradling it, caressing it. “You must know how much I care about you.”

  Evangeline looked down at her hand. She wanted to tug it from his grasp. It wasn’t that she disliked Lord Trevelan. She liked him well enough. In fact, now that she had given up hope on Nicholas, Trevelan was her best chance at a comfortable marriage. Still, it didn’t feel right to have him holding her hand like that.

  “I can’t think of another female I like better,” Trevelan went on.

  “Well… thank you… I suppose,” Evangeline responded, less than impressed by his romantic ineptitude.

  “I have been a bachelor for a very long time. Too long. And I had your father’s blessing, you know. Before he died.”

  Good God! He was going to propose!

  “W-what are you saying, my lord?” Evangeline asked. She decided to play dumb.

  “I…” Lord Trevelan’s mouth hung open, but no words were coming out. Despite the brisk weather, tiny beads of sweat were sprouting on his forehead. “I hope… we’ll remain friends forever.”

  Evangeline nearly fainted. Friends? Friends?!? She was expecting a proposal of marriage, but Lord Trevelan was talking about friendship? How could that be? Had she really misjudged his intentions?

  The disappointment on her face was not lost on Lord Trevelan. “O-or perhaps…” he went on, “perhaps we could be more than that?”

  Evangeline didn’t have time to feel relieved, because something unexpected happened. All of a sudden, Lord Trevelan leaned forward. His lips were descending on hers!

  Oh no! Evangeline’s mind was screaming. It’s not supposed to be like this! Not now! Not with him! Before he could land his kiss, Evangeline ducked away from him. She walked away from the rejected viscount and leaned against the rail of the balcony. “Oh look,” she said, completely avoiding the topic of the missed kiss. “Jonathan’s down there in the garden.”

  It was Trevelan’s turn to be disappointed. If his shoulders sunk any further, they’d be scraping against his elbows. No man ever looked so dejected. Did she have any idea how hard this was for an aging bachelor like him? “Jonathan?”

  “Jonathan, the valet,” Evangeline explained, pointing to a dark figure lingering in the garden below them. “I wonder what he’s doing.”

  Trevelan, still sore from the rejection, looked over the rail. “Oh. Jonathan. The valet.” His disinterest couldn’t have been more obvious. He didn’t know who she was talking about, and he didn’t know why he should care.

  “JONATHAN!” Evangeline shouted to the man below. “JONATHAN, UP HERE!”

  The dark figure raised his head. A few seconds later, he lifted an arm in salutation. When Jonathan wal
ked closer to the balcony, Trevelan noticed a swagger in the man’s steps. His arrogance did not befit his station.

  “Evangeline?” Jonathan called up to them. “Evangeline, why are you wasting your time with me? You should be enjoying your party.”

  “A waste of time? Hardly!” Evangeline shouted to him. “You’re more entertaining than half the guests at the party.”

  Trevelan grunted. “Do not speak so loudly. What if someone hears you?”

  Evangeline ignored his whispered warning. “Jonathan?”

  “Yes?”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m working on a gift for you, my lady,” Jonathan answered, his eyes shifting from Evangeline to the man at her side. “Though I’m not sure I should say that with him standing there.”

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” said Trevelan, a bit snide.

  “My lady?”

  “Yes, Jonathan?”

  “Shall I serenade you?” Jonathan asked, clasping a hand over his heart.

  Something about his hand-over-heart gesture shocked her back to her senses. Evangeline’s own heart had tingled at the sight of him. Jonathan was more than just a means to divert her attention from Lord Trevelan. Evangeline was genuinely happy to see him. But she didn’t want her heart to flutter over a simple man like Jonathan. Whatever she felt for him, it had to be suppressed.

  “As nice as that sounds, I really should be going,” she said. “It was nice to see you, Winters.”

  They were close enough to see Jonathan’s frown. “Winters again?” he asked. “Well, I understand.”

  “Come,” said Trevelan. Without another word, he wrapped his arm around Evangeline’s and pulled her back to the assembly room. He caught her looking over her shoulder, trying to keep the valet in view as long as possible.

  “You’re too friendly with him.”

  “I can be friendly with him if I want!”

  “Too friendly,” Trevelan repeated. “You should not consort with someone like that. You have to know your place, Evangeline. You don’t want to make a mockery of yourself.”

  “It’s not your place to tell me who I should and shouldn’t befriend,” she replied, feeling very defensive. But who was she defending? Herself, or Jonathan?

  “Don’t make a scene,” he whispered to her. Evangeline’s raised voice had already attracted a few stares.

  “I’m not making a scene.”

  “I have only your best interests at heart.”

  “You’re not my father,” she said, tugging her arm out of his grip. “Although… you are old enough to be so.”

  With a harrumph, she marched away from Lord Trevelan, thereby ruining her best chance at a decent marriage.

  All for a valet. She must have been out of her mind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The day after her party, Evangeline found that particular valet waiting for her in the garden. To be fair, he wasn’t exactly waiting for her. In fact, Evangeline Fremont was probably the furthest thing from his mind. Jonathan was immersed in his book, and he didn’t see her approach.

  Evangeline didn’t know if she should bother him or not. On one hand, she thought it would be in her best interest to avoid him. She enjoyed his company far too much for her own good. On the other hand, bantering with Jonathan was often the highlight of her day. Why should she avoid something that gave her pleasure?

  Evangeline kept her distance, but kept him in view. She thought it would be better to catch his attention and make him come to her. She tried clearing her throat, but he didn’t hear it. She tried rustling her foot in the grass, but he probably thought it was the wind. It was a windy day, after all.

  Finally, she raised her hand to her mouth and managed a fake cough. He finally looked up.

  “Oh, hello,” Jonathan said, cracking a smile. “Are you unwell?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Evangeline said, mustering a second cough for the sake of the conversation. “It’s just a little tickle in my throat. It’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  “Oh.” Jonathan closed his book and rose to his feet. “Am I bothering you?”

  “Why would you think that?” Evangeline asked. “I should ask you the same thing. Am I bothering you?”

  Jonathan chuckled. “What a silly question! No, this is your home, and I work here. I have no right to be bothered by you.”

  “Yes, you do. If I am truly bothersome, I would like to know.” Evangeline protested. “Besides, this is not my home anymore. I’m a guest.”

  Jonathan turned his eyes to the ground. “Well, you’re not bothering me. You never could.”

  There was something different about him. It was an uncharacteristic shyness, Evangeline thought. “At times, I know I've been terrible to you,” she said. “If I’ve ever chided you or... or insulted you, I apologize.”

  “No apology is necessary, my lady,” he said, tucking his book under his arm. “Actually, I was hoping for a chance to see you. I have a gift for you. For your birthday.”

  “Oh?”

  “Will you wait here for a moment? It won’t take me long to retrieve it.”

  “Of course,” she agreed, watching him disappear. Good God, how had it come to this? Evangeline was being courted by a valet! A valet, of all things! To make matters worse, she actually wanted it to happen. She was letting it happen. She hated that she wasn’t immune to his charm.

  “And his unconventional good looks,” she whispered to herself. There was something endearing about his scruffy hair and deep-set eyes. She didn’t even mind that he was missing a hand. It gave him character—something the upper classes sorely lacked.

  When Jonathan returned, he was carrying a large bouquet of roses in his hand. He held it out to her as he approached. “They’re for you, of course,” he said. “They’re from the garden. I got special permission from Nic… his lordship.”

  “You should call him Nicholas, if that’s what you’re used to,” she said as she accepted the gift. “I have a fondness for pink roses. How did you know?”

  With a chuckle, he said, “A good guess?”

  “Of course, accepting flowers from a servant is not proper conduct. But I’ll make an exception for you. They’re very lovely.”

  He had to goad her. After all, their relationship, as unconventional as it was, thrived on goading. “You wouldn’t quibble about it if I was a duke.”

  “Quibble? Am I quibbling?”

  “Yes, you’re quibbling,” Jonathan said. “You’re a very skilled quibbler.”

  Evangeline shook her flowers at him. “If you were a duke, Jonathan Winters, I would have flung myself into your arms ages ago.”

  “What’s wrong with my arms?” Jonathan asked, holding them open. “As they are right now, they’re insufficient for flinging?”

  “Oh, Jonathan,” she said his name with a sigh. She didn’t want to look at him, not when there was a tear in her eye.

  “Are you alright?”

  Evangeline didn’t answer.

  “Have I said something to upset you? You’ve gone from she-devil to blue-deviled in the blink of an eye.”

  Evangeline wiped her eye and raised her head. “Do you really want to know?” She waited for him to nod. “To be honest, I’ve been depressed all morning. At first, I thought it was because of my mama. You know, I…” Evangeline’s voice trailed off. She needed to confess her woes to someone, and Jonathan’s ears were as good as any. For some reason, she trusted him. Even if he did make fun of her. “When Nicholas first arrived, I had hoped to marry him.”

  “Of course you did,” Jonathan said with a nod. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

  “Oh…”

  Jonathan waited for Evangeline to continue. She had yet to confess the true reason for her sadness.

  “But I’m not disappointed about Nicholas anymore. If he wants to woo my mama, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said. “But I have other reasons to be sad. It pains me to think of how little I have done in my life.
Eighteen years, but what have I accomplished? My only goal has been to marry… but isn’t that the fate of a woman? Is that not her only goal?” Evangeline paused to take a breath. “My life feels so… empty.”

  Jonathan kept his distance. He wanted to come forward and take her in his arms, but he stayed away. As a servant, or even as a man, he had no right to hold her. He had no reason to think she wanted him anywhere near her. “I think everyone feels the same way you do, my lady. No one accomplishes everything they set out to do.”

  “But I have done nothing,” Evangeline insisted. “I suppose I’m a fairly accomplished pianist, but my skills are nothing out of the ordinary. I haven’t read a book in years. I don’t do needlepoint, or watercolors, and I certainly don’t go riding on horses.”

  “You fall from horses,” he teased her.

  She scowled at him before she continued. “In all my life, what have I done? I was spoiled by my father, and I’ve been nothing but a thorn in my mama’s… derriere.”

  Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t help it. How could she say that with a straight face?

  “Why are you laughing at me?” she asked, nose puckered. “I shouldn’t have said any of this to you, I--”

  “My lady,” Jonathan cut in, “I think you worry too much. You are a fine young woman. And if you’re really so concerned about the things you haven’t accomplished, maybe we can accomplish them… together?”

  Evangeline didn’t like where the conversation was heading, but she was interested nonetheless. “Oh, really? And what could we possibly accomplish together, Jonathan Winters?”

  Jonathan moved toward her, leaving an inappropriately short distance between them. “Well… for instance, I have never danced. If I were to take you into my arms and sweep you into a waltz, I could say I’ve done something I’ve always wanted to do.”

  She gave him a confused look. “You’ve always wanted to dance with me?”

  He laughed. “With any young woman. Although a dance with you would be particularly… pleasing.”

  “In that case, let’s make it interesting for both of us. I want to do something I’ve never done,” Evangeline said, pointing to the edge of the lake. “I’ve never danced in the water.”