Senseless Sensibilities

by K. L. O'Keefe

  Without another word, Jonathan hoisted her off the ground. Ignoring her shriek, he carried her to the water’s edge. He carried her into the lake until they were both ankle-deep.

  “Now my dress is wet!”

  “It was your idea to dance in the water.”

  “It was your idea to dance!”

  “Hush,” Jonathan whispered, pulling her toward him. “You’ll have to guide me. As I said before, I have never danced.”

  “I’ve never danced with a man who has only one hand,” Evangeline said. “I’m not sure how to go about it.”

  Jonathan’s eyes twinkled in spite of the subject matter. “You've never danced with a one-handed man, and you've never danced in the water. You are on a roll, my dear.”

  “I’ll be able to say I danced with a one-handed valet in the water, which is something no one can say.”

  “Exactly,” he said with a smile.

  They were dancing very slowly, because Jonathan was untrained. The sound of their feet swishing in the water was all the music they needed. After several seconds, Evangeline backed away, doubled over with laughter.

  “What’s so funny?” Jonathan asked. He was laughing with her, but he wasn’t sure why.

  “This is completely ridiculous!” Evangeline said through her giggles. “This is, by far, the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done.”

  “At least it’s original.”

  “It certainly is!” she agreed, making her way to the dry land. Her dress was clinging uncomfortably to her legs. “So, what’s next?”

  Jonathan was feeling so spirited, he nearly skipped out of the water. He was happy to hear she was interested in his game. “It’s your turn.”

  “I can’t say I’ve never been carried by a man. You did that,” Evangeline said. “And I can’t say I’ve never had my slippers removed by a man, because you’ve done that as well.”

  He smirked.

  “I’ve never had someone whisper in my ear.”

  “Really?” Jonathan asked, sitting on the ground beside her. “Never?”

  Evangeline tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear and leaned toward him. “Well, go on,” she urged him.

  Jonathan moved his mouth to her ear. His lips were an inch away, but he had no idea what to say. Finally, he whispered, “I think you’re beautiful.”

  “What an odd sensation,” Evangeline exclaimed, clapping a hand over her ear. “You made it tingle.”

  “Did I?”

  “You did.” Evangeline looked over at him, wondering how long they could carry on with this silly game. “It’s your turn now.”

  “Alright then,” Jonathan agreed. “You have a speckle on your neck. I want to touch it.” He pointed to a large freckle below her ear.

  “Really?” She tipped her head, allowing for easy access. “Go ahead, if that’s what you really want.”

  With a solitary finger, he brushed the dark, raised spot below her ear. When Evangeline didn’t flinch, he got increasingly bold. He flattened his hand against her skin, cupping her neck in the palm of his hand. For a moment, he thought she’d back away—but she didn’t. She seemed to welcome it, even as his thumb started tracing the line of her jaw. When he finally moved his hand away, she shuddered.

  “Now,” he whispered, “your turn.”

  Evangeline took a deep breath. Ever since he touched her, she found it hard to breathe. “I… well…”

  “You’re out of ideas already?”

  “No, of course not!” she snapped, reverting back to her fiery self. “I have never worn my hair down outside of my bedchamber. Not since I was a child.”

  “Really? That seems ridiculous.”

  “Not since I was fifteen.”

  “Three whole years,” he scoffed. Without asking, Jonathan reached over and started pulling the pins from her hair. If she was surprised by this, her face didn’t show her reaction. Tendril by tendril, her ringlets fell around her face, blanketing her shoulders. He was aching to run his fingers through her soft, dark curls. They were forbidden to his touch.

  “You have lovely hair.”

  “Thank you,” she said, briefly touching her freed tresses. “I still can’t believe I’m doing any of this with you.”

  “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

  “More than I care to admit,” she confessed. “May I go again?”

  Jonathan gasped. “Isn't it supposed to be my turn? Well, I suppose it’s alright. After all, you were the one who was troubled by your lack of experience.”

  Evangeline rose to her feet, and he eventually followed suit. “I want someone to read to me,” she said, looking up at his face. “I’ve never had a man read to me. Even a simple child’s story would do. I always wished my father would read to me, but… he didn’t. He rarely spent any time with me. He bought me whatever I asked for, and that was the extent of his paternal tenderness.”

  Jonathan was silent for several seconds. He hadn’t expected their game to take a scholarly turn, not after it had become so exhilarating and—dare he think it—sensual. Certain parts of his anatomy had certainly responded to their little game, no matter how innocent it had been.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I know you can read. I see you reading all the time!”

  “Of course I can read.” Jonathan walked away for a moment, going to retrieve the book he’d been reading earlier. He handed it to her, eyebrow raised. “Will this do?”

  Evangeline took a few seconds to flip through the book. The contents seemed boring, but she didn’t care. “Anything will do.” She held out the book and looked around. “Can we go into the library? I’m feeling a little chill.” In truth, their move to the library was in preparation for her next idea. Evangeline knew what she wanted to ask of him, but she didn’t want anyone to see them.

  “Certainly, my lady. Let's go inside.”

  Jonathan led her back to the house and into the lavish library, where endless shelves lined the walls. They sat around a small, circular table, and Jonathan opened the book. He started reading the first page, and Evangeline closed her eyes. The sound of his voice was relaxing, even though he occasionally stuttered over the words. At the end of the chapter, he looked over at her.

  “Are you asleep?”

  “No,” she laughed, her eyes flitting open. “You have a very nice voice.”

  Jonathan closed the book and slid it across the table, away from both of them. “I know what I want to do, and you can’t deny me another turn!”

  A wicked smile tilted Evangeline’s lips. She couldn’t believe how well he put her at ease. She’d never felt so comfortable around a person, not even her own parents. “I wouldn’t dream of denying you.”

  “I want to call you by your name,” he said. “Evangeline.”

  “Evangeline,” she repeated after him. “You should always call me that.”

  “Really? What if someone hears me call you by your name? It’s not proper for a servant to call a lady by her--”

  “Are you quibbling?” she interrupted. “I suppose you’re an expert quibbler as well?”

  “Touché, my lady.”

  “Touché, Evangeline,” she corrected him.

  Their banter came to a standstill. Evangeline’s stomach was in knots. So much for feeling at ease, she thought.

  Before she could speak, Jonathan rose from his chair. “Well, I suppose I should get back to work. His lordship might need me for something.”

  “Wait!”

  He sat back down, interested in what she had to say.

  “I…” Evangeline’s lips were suddenly dry. Her tongue flicked out to moisten them. “I’ve… never been kissed before.”

  “R-really?” Jonathan could hardly believe his ears. What was she implying? Was she asking him to kiss her? Him, of all people?! Not to mention, Evangeline Fremont was a devastatingly beautiful girl. How could she make it through eighteen years of life without someone begging for a kiss? “How surprising.”

  Evangeline crossed her arms. �
�Why are you so surprised? What sort of woman did you take me for, Jonathan Winters?”

  A very desirable one, his mind screamed an unspoken answer. “I suppose… I…”

  “I’m not a wanton.”

  “No, of course you aren’t.”

  “And I’m certainly not shy.”

  “D-Definitely,” Jonathan agreed. “Definitely not.”

  “I was just waiting for the right person.”

  Jonathan wiped his palm, wet with perspiration, on his breeches. “Am I… the right person?”

  Her cheeks were as pink as the roses Jonathan gave her. “Heavens no! I… it… I figure I could use the practice.”

  “So, you kiss a valet for practice?”

  “No, I kiss a friend,” she disagreed. “If I let you kiss me, I’ll be more experienced when the right person does come along.”

  Jonathan raked his hand through his already-rumpled hair. In all his life, he’d never been more irritated. Nor had he felt more disappointed. “Let me kiss you?” he scoffed.

  “The lady should always give permission to the man, don’t you think?”

  “And if the man rejects the offer? What happens then?”

  She pouted prettily. If she was as good at pouting as she was at kissing, she’d have no problem at all. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

  “I don’t want to kiss you if you don’t want to kiss me,” Jonathan replied. “If it’s just practice, what’s the point?”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss!”

  Jonathan leaned toward her, bringing his face closer to hers. “Fine. Then let us commence with practice, if that’s your wish.”

  Her pout didn’t disappear—it grew more prominent. “You’re taking all the romance out of it!”

  “Is it supposed to be romantic, if I’m just your friend?”

  “Never mind,” Evangeline whimpered, turning away from him. “I don’t want to kiss you at all! I’ve had enough of your thoughtless behavior. If a lady gives a man leave to kiss her, he should be happy. But you? You’ve insulted me more than you can imagine.”

  “You silly girl,” Jonathan chuckled.

  “If I’m so silly, leave me,” Evangeline went on. “And I hope I never see you again!”

  Jonathan got to his feet, thoroughly perplexed. If he lived a thousand years, he would never understand women. Especially Evangeline. “You can’t be serious!?”

  Evangeline didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at him. She kept her back to him, staying motionless as his footsteps traveled across the floor.

  “Well, then. I’ll miss you,” Jonathan said, closing the door behind him.

  Evangeline shuddered, chilled by his absence. For the next few minutes, she recounted their conversation in her head. At long last, she was able to suppress her longing for Jonathan. She was able to return to a contenting contempt for him.

  “Jonathan Winters can go to the devil!” she declared, and left the library with her head held high.

  Chapter Seventeen

  But he didn’t go to the devil, unless the devil was at Penworth Park. And Evangeline, to her dismay, seemed to run into Jonathan at every turn. Three days after their row in the library, she was still going to great lengths to avoid him. If she saw him coming down the hall, she dashed in the opposite direction. If he was present during dinner, she never made eye contact. If he was in a room she happened to enter, she bowed her head and fled.

  It wasn’t that she hated him. The fact of the matter was, his mere presence caused her so much discomfort, Evangeline thought it best to avoid him altogether. She felt foolish for asking a valet to kiss her, and even more foolish for having been rejected. Whatever their relationship was, she knew it had to end—for her own well-being, if nothing else.

  Evangeline did whatever she could to forget about Jonathan Winters. She filled her days with the idle amusements she enjoyed before Nicholas’ arrival at the Park. She was also spending time with her mama again, having officially forgiven her parent for stealing her beau.

  Evangeline was lounging on a settee in the parlor, bathed in the light of a nearby window. She was reading a book, which she rarely did. As it happened, it was the same book Jonathan started reading to her a few days ago. It was just a coincidence, of course. It wasn’t as if she clung to the book because it was something he had touched. That wasn’t the case at all!

  Was it?

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lord Trevelan lately.” The sound of her mama’s voice jolted Evangeline from her thoughts.

  That much was true. He had called on her two times in the last three days. Evangeline had taken more walks in the garden and more turns around rooms with Lord Trevelan in the last few days than in all her life combined.

  “Yes, I suppose I have,” Evangeline acknowledged. “Do you disapprove?”

  “Disapprove? I’m not thrilled about it, but I can’t disapprove. You could do much worse than Lord Trevelan,” Anne replied. “I spent most of my life with a much older man, so I know it can work. But it could lead to a lifetime of unhappiness if you do not care for him. Do you think you could love him? I would have no reason to complain if you thought you could.”

  Evangeline’s nose wrinkled like a raisin in the sun. “Love Trevelan? No, I never could. I like him well enough, but my feelings for him could never progress so far.”

  Anne sighed. “I see.”

  “Honestly, why are my options so few? Are there no eligible men in the world? If I went to London, could I increase my number of prospects? Am I so undesirable?” Evangeline laid her cheek against her palm and sighed. “Maybe I’ll become a spinster.”

  Her mother laughed. “My dear, you are much too young to be considering spinsterhood. You are only eighteen. I did not marry your father until I was four and twenty.”

  “And you were miserable for most of your life, Mama!” As soon as she said it, Evangeline wondered if she said too much. She didn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings. “I think life would be better without a man. I could stay with you ‘til the end of my days! I wouldn’t be a burden on you, would I?”

  “The end of my days would come before the end of your days, Evie. And what then?”

  Evangeline rolled her eyes. “You’re still encouraging me to find a husband? I think I might be hopeless, Mama. No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my opinions to myself. A man doesn’t want to hear a woman’s opinions, does he? I’m too outspoken, and I’m not as lucky as you are.”

  “Lucky?” inquired the widow, eyebrow raised. In Anne’s opinion, she had the worst luck in the world.

  “Yes, you’re lucky,” her daughter insisted. “You have Nicholas.”

  “I have Nicholas?” Anne chuckled, but her laughter was tinged with discomfort. “That’s news to me!”

  “Haven’t you seen the way he looks at you, Mama? If you haven’t, you must be blind,” Evangeline said. “The poor man never tears his eyes away from you. He’s completely smitten, I should say. I almost feel sorry for him, considering the way you rebuke him.”

  “I rebuke him?”

  “Yes. No matter how much he dotes on you, you don’t give him a second glance,” Evangeline went on. “A woman would have to be a fool to reject a handsome man like him. And I think you have been foolish, Mama.”

  “But… I thought… I…”

  “You thought I wanted him for myself?” Evangeline finished for her. “I’ve given up on Nicholas. You can have him.”

  “I wouldn’t have him, even if I wanted him.”

  “Why, mother? Why?” Evangeline demanded an answer. “Do you not like him?”

  “He is very amiable.”

  “Amiable?” Evangeline repeated with a roll of her eyes. “And handsome?”

  “Yes, handsome,” the older woman agreed.

  “You enjoy his company?”

  “Very much.” Anne could feel her cheeks growing warm. She couldn’t believe she was having this discussion
with her daughter. Somewhere along the line, their roles had been reversed. Her daughter was lecturing her about her love life. “I am too old for him, Evangeline.”

  “Nonsense,” Evangeline disagreed. “Nicholas doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “I am recently widowed.”

  “It’s been five months! You were in a loveless marriage for nearly two decades, mother. Don’t you deserve a bit of happiness?”

  Anne looked down at her lap, where her hands were neatly folded. She couldn’t bear her daughter’s prying eyes and prying tongue. “You think Nicholas could make me happy?”

  “Yes, I do! Giving up on Nicholas is the most selfless thing I’ve done. You should be proud of me, mama… especially since I have no other suitor to consider.”

  Anne’s next question was out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying. Had she thought about it long enough, she might have realized it would incite her daughter’s fury. “Are you sure there’s no other suitor? What about the valet?”

  “Jonathan Winters!? How absurd! Mama, how could you suggest a thing like that? Why do you think I would marry so low?” Evangeline asked, regretting her words as soon as she said them. What she said was true enough—Jonathan’s station in life was much lower than Evangeline’s. Nevertheless, her opinion of him was anything but low. She thought very highly of Jonathan Winters, servant or not. Still, it was a bit of a blow to her ego that her mother would suggest such a thing. “Do you really think my options are so few that I should resort to marrying a servant? I would never be accepted in polite society.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Anne. “I just thought… perhaps… that you liked him.”

  “Liking him and marrying him are two very different things.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s say no more on this subject, mama. Please. I can only hope a new opportunity will present itself to me. And if it doesn’t, I am quite content with being alone.”

  Evangeline was lying, of course. She would be a miserable spinster. She wasn’t the sort of girl who could stand to be alone.

  And she wouldn’t have to be. Little did she know, a new opportunity was just around the corner.