Wonderful

by Cheryl Holt

  Before he’d left London, he’d told his father that he wouldn’t marry Priscilla, that he planned to cry off. Lord Sidwell had counseled that it was simply bachelor’s jitters, and as a cure, he’d suggested Aaron meet a nice girl and have a fling to work off some of his discontentment.

  Aaron had scoffed at the notion, but why had he? Why not have an affair? What was preventing him?

  Her wedding was in a month, and his was in six weeks. Neither of them was eager to proceed. Why not misbehave for a short interval before duty and obligation rendered many onerous challenges?

  Aaron could stay at Fox Run for the month, could have thirty whole days with Evangeline! Why shouldn’t they seize the opportunity? Who would ever know? And if no one knew, where was the harm? He would never tell Priscilla, and Evangeline need never confess to Iggy. It was the ideal solution.

  “I’m going to ask you a question,” he said, “and you have to say yes. Don’t you dare refuse. I couldn’t bear it.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want us to have an affair.”

  “What? No, absolutely not.”

  “Evangeline…”

  “Don’t call me by my Christian name. It’s not right.”

  “We can have an entire month together.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “We can loaf and play and please ourselves.”

  “No!”

  “It will be a secret we’d take to our graves.”

  “You’re mad,” she chided, “and you insult me by mentioning it.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s no benefit for me to participate. No benefit at all, and if the vicar found out—which he would—my chance to marry would be destroyed.”

  “Then be my mistress. Tell my cousin to sod off, and I’ll move you to London and buy you a cozy little house. I’ll fill it with a staff of fawning servants and attire you in the prettiest clothes. I could be with you all the time.”

  Aaron was shocked he’d tendered the scandalous proposal. He hadn’t meant to; it had just slipped out. But once voiced, he rippled with excitement. He would bring her to the city—quietly and discreetly of course—and he’d tuck her away in a private love nest. It wouldn’t matter that he had to wed Priscilla, because he’d have Evangeline.

  It was perfect! Perfect!

  “Your mistress?” she said, scowling.

  “Yes, we could be so happy.”

  “I repeat, you’re mad. And you have to go.”

  “No, no, Evangeline, you’re not listening to me.”

  “I’m listening.” She nodded with derision. “Believe me, I heard every word, and I’m embarrassed for both of us.”

  “Why?”

  “You presume I’m the type who would…who might…who would like to…”

  Apparently, his request was so offensive she couldn’t verbalize her upset.

  “There’s a physical attraction between us,” he said.

  “So what? We’re not animals. We don’t have to act on it.”

  “We could have the most wonderful liaison.”

  “Why would you suppose it is what I seek or covet?”

  He couldn’t fathom her reticence, not when he was so thrilled by the idea. How could he see the advantages so clearly, and she see only disadvantages? He was desperate to persuade her it was for the best.

  “I’m very rich, Evangeline, and I can be extremely generous.”

  “Bully for you.”

  “Think about your future. Think about your life at the vicarage with my cousin. Then try to picture yourself in London with me. We’d attend the theater, and we’d have fascinating friends. I’d dress you in gowns and jewels. You’d want for nothing.”

  “You actually assume I’m pining away for gowns and jewels? You actually assume that’s the sort of person I am?”

  “You’re so beautiful, Evangeline. Let me pamper you. Let me make you mine.”

  She jerked open the door and stepped into the hall without checking first to ensure no servant was walking by. It was late, so it was unlikely, but her brazenness yanked him back to his senses and forced him to recognize that she was correct. He’d gone temporarily insane. It was the sole explanation.

  What had come over him? Why had he offered such a ridiculous, untenable proposal?

  He was getting married in a few weeks, and though he wasn’t the most moral man, he liked to imagine that—at least at the beginning—he might be faithful and loyal. What would it say about his character if he took a mistress right before he took a bride?

  The answer to that question was too awful to contemplate.

  They stared and stared, and finally she said, “I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”

  “Fine.”

  “You’re leaving now, and I’m locking my door. I realize this is your house, but you are not to visit me again. Do you understand?”

  He considered arguing just because he could be contrary and obstinate, but sanity was gradually sinking in. He’d been behaving like a lunatic and was mortified.

  “I apologize,” he said. “I won’t stop by again. I promise.”

  She didn’t reply, didn’t smile, didn’t indicate any heightened feeling. Had she none? How could he be brimming with affection and she be completely indifferent?

  She simply waited, then waited some more, until it dawned on him that she was waiting for him to depart.

  He walked out and kept on down the hall, and when her door closed, when the key spun in the lock, he didn’t glance back.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Evangeline sat at the harpsichord in the music room at Fox Run. It was very late, and she was smarter now, so she didn’t touch the keys. She was afraid she’d attract an audience.

  For the prior four days, ever since Lord Run had kissed her in her bedchamber, she’d been a ghost in the house. She’d sneak down early to breakfast, then flit back to her room and hide all morning. She spent the afternoons with Vicar Bosworth, calling on neighbors and being introduced to important parishioners.

  When she returned to the manor, she’d creep inside, would rush upstairs and have a supper tray delivered. The evenings were long and dreary and, occasionally, she heard laughter and singing wafting by, as if Lord Run was entertaining. Those were the most difficult hours, as she yearned to go down and join in the merriment.

  She was a very social person, not prone to moping or solitude, so she was being particularly reserved. Yet it was necessary to restrain herself. Lord Run had an uncanny ability to coax her to flagrant immoral behavior, and the only deterrence she could devise was complete avoidance.

  So far, it had been working well. She hadn’t seen him again, and he hadn’t bothered her.

  Her awkwardness around the vicar was gradually waning, and Evangeline was starting to realize why Miss Peabody had betrothed her to him. Though the area was prosperous, there was suffering too, but he wasn’t concerned about the less fortunate.

  Evangeline could make a difference, could perform good deeds and help others who hadn’t had her advantages in life. Marriage to Vicar Bosworth wouldn’t bring her joy or devotion—or even much in the way of companionship—but happiness was fleeting and could be illusory.

  Instead, she would settle for contentment, and in the longer scheme of things, that was a higher pursuit, a higher goal.

  Why then, was she so miserable?

  In her palm, she clasped a miniature statue that had always been hers. It was a goddess—she’d never learned which one—and carved out of ivory. The initials AB were written on the bottom in dark ink, but they had faded over the years. In her first memories, she’d had it with her, and she thought it might be a significant item from her past, often wondering if it had been her mother’s.

  She always carried it, and when she looked at it, she felt calmer and more in control. She placed it on the box of the instrument, and she stared at it, sensing as she constantly did that it was sending her a message. Unfortunately, she could never decipher what it was.


  She traced a finger across the grooved lines of the carving, curious about the artist, why it had been made, why she had it.

  “Tell me what to do,” she murmured, but of course she received no reply.

  She’d asked Vicar Bosworth if there’d been any progress on removing her from the manor, but Lord Run had refused to allow it so, apparently, that ended the matter.

  For the moment she was trapped, but she had to leave. And in the future, when Lord Run was in residence, she had to ensure she never bumped into him.

  Though she hated to admit it about herself, she’d sinned with her body and her mind. By kissing Lord Run as she had, she’d betrayed Vicar Bosworth, and she ought to confess her indiscretion to him, but she was too cowardly.

  During any part of the torrid embrace, she could have stopped it, but she hadn’t. She’d been eager to keep on to a conclusion she couldn’t describe, but that she certainly seemed to crave. All these days later, she was raw and jumbled on the inside, as if invisible fires had been ignited and needed to be extinguished.

  Lord Run had begged her to have an affair, to be his mistress. While she’d assumed herself insulted by the request, on further reflection, she was surprised to discover that she wasn’t actually that opposed.

  He intrigued her in ways she hadn’t known she could be by a man. She was a very passionate individual, but under Miss Peabody’s stern rules, she’d had to tamp down her wilder impulses. Lord Run lured them to the fore. He made her feel she could give them free rein, that she could—in his presence—be the person she was meant to be. She wouldn’t have to conceal her true nature.

  Her desire to grab that more reckless, more carefree existence was so potent she could almost taste it.

  She glanced up, and to her dismay, Lord Run was watching her from over by the door. She wanted to tell him to go away. She wanted to tell him to never go away. She wanted to ask him if he was sorry for their kiss. She wanted to tell him she hoped he wasn’t sorry for their kiss.

  For all her sheltered upbringing, she was very intelligent and pragmatic. She recognized that women got themselves into trouble with scoundrels. She’d heard the horror stories as to how easily a rogue could wear down virtuous impulses, but Evangeline had believed fallen women to be imprudent and weak of character.

  Now, all of a sudden, she understood how physical attraction could spur a female to perilous conduct. She was on a very dangerous ledge, desperately keen to do whatever he suggested.

  “Hello,” he quietly murmured as he came over to her.

  “Hello.”

  “I thought you might be down here.”

  “You know me well. Musical instruments seem to call my name.”

  He pointed to her goddess statue. “That’s a pretty carving.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He reached for it, but she snatched it away and stuck it in her pocket. Though her anxiety was silly, she kept the statue secreted away, so most people weren’t aware she had it. It was her good luck charm, her talisman for protection, to ward off evil.

  She suspected she’d once been told to never let go of it, to never lose it. Or maybe it was simply an orphan’s attachment that didn’t indicate anything at all.

  At her odd, grasping behavior, he scowled.

  “I apologize,” she said, “but it’s a special memento.”

  “It’s all right. I merely wanted to look at the details.”

  She shrugged, trying not to appear foolish. “I’ve just always had it. It might have been my mother’s, but I’m not sure.”

  “Then by all means, you should keep it close.”

  “I always do.”

  Their stilted conversation stumbled to a halt. They stared and stared, a thousand questions rocking her. She’d like to ask why he’d come downstairs, if he’d been searching for her, but they couldn’t be in the same room, not for a single second. The minute she saw him, she was eager to race to ruin. It was a disastrous urge that couldn’t be acted on.

  “You’ve been hiding from me,” he said.

  “I figured I should.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m an adult, and you were very clear that I should leave you alone.”

  I don’t want you to leave me alone, she nearly wailed.

  “How are things with my cousin?” he inquired. “I’m told the two of you have been socializing in the afternoons.”

  “We have.”

  “Is the situation getting any better for you?”

  “Yes,” she lied.

  “Are you being honest with me?”

  She frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be honest?”

  “I warned him to be kind to you. If he’s not, I’ll talk to him.”

  The notion that he’d intervened on her behalf again, that he was determined to be her champion, was inordinately thrilling.

  “I don’t need your assistance,” she insisted. “He and I will be fine.”

  Dubious and unconvinced, he nodded, and she held herself very still, her gaze level and calm. She was being pelted with such intense yearning that she could barely keep from leaping off the bench and throwing herself into his arms. Could he feel the pressure building between them?

  “I’ve decided I should return to London,” he abruptly announced.

  The news was extremely distressing, and she gripped the edge of the bench so she’d remain firmly planted on it.

  “Why would you?” she asked. “I hope it’s not because of me.”

  “Of course it’s because of you,” he baldly admitted, and he sounded angry.

  “If my presence is disturbing you, I’m quite content to depart. Simply inform the vicar that you no longer mind, and he’ll find me other lodging.”

  “No. You can stay here.”

  “But it’s ridiculous to let yourself be chased away by me. I’m insignificant to your daily routines, and as I’ve proven, I can keep out of your way.”

  “I don’t want you to keep out of my way. That’s the problem.”

  Giddy elation rocked her, but she fought to conceal her reaction. She couldn’t be glad about his interest, couldn’t be delighted by what it indicated.

  “About the other night…” His voice trailed off.

  “What about it?”

  “I’m not sorry. You’re probably expecting me to apologize, but I won’t.”

  “There’s no need to apologize.”

  “Why is that?” He glared at her, daring her to respond. “You can say it, Evangeline. Why is there no need?”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “It couldn’t possibly.”

  “It does.”

  He was overwhelming her with his greater size and imposing nature. Just by his standing so near, she was completely befuddled. She was a very lonely, very ordinary female. How was she to ignore what was occurring? How was she to fend it off?

  “Tell me you feel it,” he said.

  “I won’t.”

  He gestured to her, then himself. “Then tell me you don’t feel it. Tell me it’s not happening.”

  “There’s nothing happening.”

  “Liar.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You are, and you shouldn’t try it with me. With me, your face is an open book.”

  “Fine, then. Here’s the truth, and it’s all I’ll say about it.”

  “Fine. What is it?”

  “It’s as if sparks ignite when we’re together. I don’t understand it.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “It confuses me.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’re much too sophisticated, and I’m much too naïve.”

  “You are,” he agreed.

  “Separation seems the only solution.”

  “I concur, which is why I’m leaving for London in the morning.”

  Don’t go! she yearned to plead, but for once, she kept her mouth shut.

  “I think it’s probably for the b
est,” she resolutely replied.

  “I don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “If I never see you again, I’m certain I’ll be abandoning something remarkable.”

  She smiled. “If that’s what you suppose, then your imagination is running wild.”

  “My imagination is working perfectly. I can imagine all sorts of indecent scenarios, and you’re front and center in every one.”

  Her heart raced with a pulsating flutter, but she paid it no heed. “I don’t have an indecent bone in my body, Lord Run.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You’re wrong, Evangeline. In fact, I suspect every bone in your body might just be pining away for what I can give you.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I have to show you. If I don’t, I’ll always regret it.”

  * * * *

  Being obstinate and demanding as he rarely was, Aaron lifted her off the bench. She didn’t protest being manhandled—not exactly—so he simply told himself she was amenable.

  She’d rattled loose an intriguing facet of his character. He’d previously viewed himself as being passively restrained, happy to go along and get along. Apparently, he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her, and on this occasion, he wasn’t about to be denied.

  As he crushed his mouth to hers, as he swept her into a stirring kiss, he felt as if he was floating outside himself, as if he was watching some other hapless fellow behave precisely as he shouldn’t.

  He’d informed her that he was departing for London, and he meant it. His bags were packed, and he’d left instructions with the housekeeper. Bryce and Florella were staying for another week or two, but Aaron was riding off at dawn.

  For four torturous days and nights, he’d been fretting over what to do about her. He’d traveled to the country to escape the pressures in London, to take a break from the burden of being engaged to Priscilla. Yet his brief sojourn had provided no haven at all.

  He’d tried to avoid Evangeline, but he was infatuated beyond all reason or sense. Finally, he’d been forced to deal with the madness she’d induced. He had to leave, but a tiny and insistent voice in his head kept telling him not to go without a goodbye.

  There was a sofa behind them, the back of it facing the door so if anyone walked by, they couldn’t be observed from the hall. He spun them and laid her on it. He followed her down and stretched out on top of her, trapping her so she couldn’t squirm away.