by Cheryl Holt
Now he understood why Aaron had fled Fox Run so abruptly, why he’d returned without warning. It had nothing to do with Priscilla and everything to do with Evangeline.
Over the past week, Bryce had spent an enormous amount of time with Evangeline, and he liked her very, very much. While she was funny and ebullient and charismatic, she was also very naïve. Did she grasp what was occurring with Aaron? Did she recognize the strident affection that was blossoming?
She was a very moral, very decent person, and she’d come to Fox Run to marry Ignatius Bosworth. She wouldn’t engage in a flirtation with Aaron unless she’d decided not to wed the vicar, unless she’d begun to suppose a different, better ending had presented itself.
Most clearly of all, she wouldn’t involve herself with Aaron if he’d told her about his betrothal so, obviously, he hadn’t. How far had matters progressed? Had Aaron seduced Evangeline? Or was it still on the horizon?
Bryce was disgusted and worried and anxious to determine his role in the debacle. Of a certainty, he was wishing he hadn’t glanced out the window! He’d have been perfectly content to not know, to not see.
What did he owe to Aaron? They were friends, Bryce was a guest in his home, and Aaron would expect complete discretion from Bryce. But Bryce adored Evangeline and she had no one to look out for her. If Aaron interfered in her betrothal to the vicar, especially if she reneged, anticipating a commitment from Aaron, she’d be destroyed.
Bryce had no connection to her at all—except for a few days of pleasant acquaintance. Should he warn her to be careful? Should he tell her about Aaron and Priscilla? Had he a duty to Evangeline? Or had he a larger, more pressing duty to Aaron to be silent, to keep his secrets?
He had no idea, and on such short notice, couldn’t figure it out.
“Why are you scowling?” Florella asked from over on the bed.
“Aaron and Evangeline are back from their ride.”
“Their arrival is making you scowl?”
“No. It’s making me realize we don’t have time for another tumble.”
She raised a tempting brow. “Who says we don’t have time?”
She caressed a hand over her breast, and it was all the invitation he required.
* * * *
“How was my sermon?”
“Your…sermon?”
Vicar Bosworth frowned at Evangeline. She’d been woolgathering, and he’d caught her out.
“My sermon, Miss Etherton! At least pretend to listen to me. It’s infuriating to talk to you when it’s obvious you couldn’t care less.”
“I apologize,” Evangeline said. “I was…ah…thinking about my friends I mentioned. Rose and Amelia?”
“Yes, I recall them. Weren’t they your fellow teachers?”
“Yes. I’ve been writing to them, but I haven’t received a single reply. It’s worrying me. I hope they’re all right.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
“They were traveling to new situations—as was I. I’d simply like to be assured of their safe arrival.”
She didn’t understand why they hadn’t answered. They should have been settled by now, unless some disaster had occurred—as it was occurring with Evangeline.
She refused to believe they wouldn’t help her, so she could only assume they hadn’t gotten her letters, that they weren’t aware of her plight. The minute she returned to Fox Run, she’d write them again. And she’d keep on writing until she heard back. With Aaron at Fox Run, matters were escalating, and Evangeline was desperate.
She had to cry off from her engagement, had to make plans for herself, but she wasn’t certain how to do that. She’d like to contact Mr. Thumberton, Miss Peabody’s attorney, who had first informed Evangeline about the betrothal. Unfortunately, she didn’t know his address, and even if she did, she wasn’t sure there was time to mail a letter to him in London, no time to wait for his response.
Her wedding was winging toward her with the speed of a runaway carriage. If she truly intended to stop it, she had to act. At once. But she was paralyzed and couldn’t force herself to take the necessary steps.
She was terrified to speak the words aloud to the vicar for it would set in motion a chain of events that couldn’t be reversed, and she had so many questions about what her decision would entail.
Could she cry off? Was it allowed in her circumstances? When a dowry had been paid and contracts signed, was it an option? If she announced she wouldn’t proceed, merely to learn that she legally had to, she’d have made an enemy of the vicar and his mother. How would they all live together afterward?
She and Aaron were growing incredibly close, and every second she was on pins and needles, expecting him to tell her to back out, that he would keep her for himself. Yet to her great consternation, no declaration was uttered.
She was so miserable! She was so confused!
“About my sermon,” he said again. “What did you think?”
His sermon had been boring and much too strident for Evangeline’s tastes. People didn’t like to be scolded, and sermons ought to be uplifting. Still, she knew without a doubt that she could only ever praise him.
“It was good. Everyone seemed to enjoy it.”
“It wasn’t too long?”
“No,” she lied. Congregants had been fidgeting and dozing off by the end. How could he have failed to notice?
They were in front of the church, the last parishioners having trickled out. She and the vicar had stood as a couple, thanking them for coming. His mother had invited Evangeline to the vicarage to have Sunday dinner. A few neighbors had been invited too, as well as Widow Bosworth’s very plain, very shy female relative. Apparently, the girl was staying with the Bosworths for several weeks.
Even with other guests being present to provide a buffer, Evangeline envisioned the entire gathering like going to the blacksmith to have a tooth pulled.
Speak up, Evangeline! Tell him you’re crying off!
But she simply couldn’t.
Momentarily, she considered talking to Aaron, but she was scared to risk it. He’d only been apprised of a tiny bit of her history, so he didn’t realize that she’d met his brother, Lucas, that Lucas was engaged to Evangeline’s friend, the lowly schoolteacher, Amelia Hubbard. He didn’t realize that his cousin, Rose Ralston, was her other friend.
The Drake family had behaved very badly toward Rose, and whenever their kinship was mentioned, Rose had never had a kind word to say about any of them.
If Evangeline told Aaron who she was, that her friend was the cousin his family had always despised, she couldn’t guess what his opinion would be. She was afraid it would underscore their disparate positions, making it less likely that he would ever view her for a more important role in his life.
What to do? What to do?
The vicar took her arm, and as they walked out to the lane, a carriage rounded the bend. Quickly, she noted that it was Aaron. He reined in right beside them. She was so delighted she could barely keep herself from rushing over and climbing in. It seemed wrong that she was standing with the vicar rather than sitting with Aaron.
“Miss Etherton!” He smiled at her and nodded at the vicar. “Cousin Iggy.”
He hadn’t attended Sunday services, and the vicar—with a definite scold in his tone—said, “We missed you at church this morning.”
“You know me, Iggy. I’m not a religious man.”
“You should be.”
“I’m not, and your sermons are a tad dry for my taste. I can’t drag myself out of bed for them.”
The vicar bristled. “That was uncalled for.”
“Yes, it was.” Aaron turned to Evangeline again. “I’m on my way back to the manor. Would you like a ride?”
More than anything in the world, Evangeline wanted to abandon the vicar and go off with Aaron. But it would cause a huge scene out in the middle of the road where any passerby could see. When she finally mustered her courage, she and the vicar needed to be in a quiet room, with the d
oors closed.
As she debated her reply, the vicar cut off any chance for a different conclusion.
“She’s joining us for Sunday dinner at the vicarage,” he said.
Evangeline assumed Aaron would argue the point and claim she was expected for dinner at Fox Run, but he simply grinned. “Well, then, I won’t keep you. I’m sure Gertrude would have a fit if you were late.”
He clicked the reins and his horse trotted off. As he went by, Evangeline thought he winked at her, but she wasn’t positive.
Did he ever reflect on her situation? She felt so intimately connected to him, but on his end, it appeared that he liked her but not too much. How could that be? If she brought up the possibility of breaking her engagement, how would he react? What if she provided an opening for him to declare himself, only to discover that a continuing association—other than an illicit one—hadn’t ever crossed his mind?
She was so disconcerted over her predicament, over her choices and how to implement them, that she was dizzy and nauseous. She was holding the vicar’s arm, and he took off at such a brisk pace that she stumbled after him.
“Vicar, please, slow down.”
At her plaintive request, he halted, struggling for calm. The vicarage was next to the church, and they were almost at the gate. Very likely, some of their guests had already arrived. He shouldn’t be seen in a state of high dudgeon just before they entered the house.
“My apologies, Miss Etherton.”
“It’s all right. Why are you upset?”
“I realize it’s bad form to denigrate one’s kin, but I loathe that man.”
“Lord Run?”
“Yes. He’s much above me in station, but he relishes any opportunity to insult me.”
“I didn’t find him to be belligerent.”
“Don’t defend him to me!”
“I’m sorry. I thought he was merely trying to be funny.”
“You would,” he muttered.
“Perhaps he was embarrassed to have missed church. Most people would have no idea how to explain their absence to a pastor.”
“Be silent, Miss Etherton.”
He stared up at the sky, rubbing the bridge of his nose, as if she was a great trial, a heavy weight to be born.
Ultimately, he glared at her. “I’ve been very patient with you, but before we go in, there’s a topic I must address.”
“What is it?”
“You were seen riding with my cousin the other morning. Alone.”
“So?”
“Don’t let it happen again.”
Evangeline was absolutely in the wrong and had no excuse for her conduct. She was sinning grievously, betraying him in her heart and her mind. Still, she said, “Why are you so angry about it? It was entirely innocent. Lord Run asked me if I liked to ride, and I haven’t had the chance in ages. When I admitted as much, he insisted on giving me a tour of the neighborhood.”
His cheeks flashed bright red, an indication of his fury she was witnessing more and more often. “I don’t want to hear ever again that you were with him.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
He leaned down so they were nose to nose, and he hissed, “Never again, Miss Etherton! Do you understand me?”
He straightened and waited for her reaction. Was she to weep? To grovel? To plead for mercy?
Tell him! Tell him now! she urged herself, but she didn’t know how. She was such a coward!
Instead, she murmured, “Yes, I understand.”
“Good, and when we go inside, I expect you to behave.”
“To behave?”
“Yes. No singing or laughing or drawing attention to yourself. I won’t have it. Not with the mood I’m in.”
She gnawed on her cheek, took a deep breath and let it out. “It might be better if I proceed on to Fox Run. You’re vexed with me, and I don’t wish to—”
“You would leave and humiliate me in front of my company? In front of Mother?”
“No, I’m simply certain you’d be happier if I departed.”
“Get inside, Miss Etherton. Now!”
“No, really, I think I should—”
“Get inside!” he shouted.
He pointed to the door, appearing so enraged, she worried he might strike her. She nearly told him to sod off, to have his bloody dinner without her, but she glanced over to see a guest peeking out the window. Had he observed their quarrel?
Evangeline was mortified.
It was an elderly parishioner who liked Evangeline very much. He looked sympathetic, looked protective and kind. He waved and smiled encouragingly, motioning her to join him.
Evangeline hovered, debated, then pushed through the gate and went in.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Play me another.”
“I’m running out of songs.”
Aaron sipped his brandy and smiled at Evangeline.
“Then start again at the top of your repertoire.”
“You are insatiable, Lord Run.”
“Guilty as charged, Miss Etherton.”
They were in the music room, and it was very late. The door was closed, a single candle burning. They were being very quiet, not wanting anyone to hear them, not wanting any interruptions as Aaron enjoyed his private concert.
With each passing minute, he was more obsessed with her, and his fixation seemed dangerous. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t complete his chores or even engage in conversation. He could only think about her, worry about her, wonder how he could keep her in his life.
He was certain his fascination was being spurred by an overwhelming need to fornicate with her. If they rolled around on a mattress a few times, he was positive his interest would wane. With previous lovers, it had always faded quickly, and no doubt an affair with her would prove no different from any of the others.
He figured he could easily persuade her to carnal conduct. She’d grown so attached, her adoration so evident, that he could persuade her to do whatever he asked.
And then what?
The question rocked him constantly.
He wasn’t about to cry off from his engagement. No matter how tempting it was, he wasn’t his brother. He hadn’t his brother’s lack of morals or probity. He’d sworn to his father and to Priscilla, both by signing the marital contracts and by verbally proposing to her.
He would follow through on that pledge.
Yet what about Evangeline? Where did that leave him with regard to her?
He hadn’t mentioned his betrothal, but if she learned of it, he had no doubt his relationship with her would be instantly severed. It would have to be shortly anyway—when she wed Iggy. She would never countenance adultery, and he was amazed she was willing to flirt so brazenly with Aaron. He supposed it was a mark of his ability to lure her to misbehavior.
He couldn’t abide the notion of her as Iggy’s bride. The very idea made him nauseous, and he incessantly debated whether he should talk her out of it. But what would become of her? She’d once advised him that marriage to Iggy was her only option. She’d declined the opportunity to be Aaron’s mistress, so if he convinced her to spurn Iggy, what would happen?
He couldn’t begin to guess.
She was sitting on the bench at the harpsichord, and he was seated on a nearby sofa. She’d been performing for over an hour, but she didn’t look exhausted and likely could keep on until dawn. It was also obvious that she liked performing for him, that she would keep on forever if he requested it.
“Come here,” he said.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
She slid off the bench and snuggled herself on his lap.
“That’s better.” He sighed with contentment. “You were much too far away.”
“You seem sad tonight,” she told him.
“I do?”
“Yes, and right in the middle of my singing too. What’s a girl to think?”
“She should think I’m not sad.”
“Liar,” she murmured. “What’s w
rong? You can tell me whatever it is.”
Oh, if only he could!
I’m engaged to be married and my wedding is in three weeks.
“I like you very much,” he said. “I simply wish things were different.”
“What things? That I was rich and from a top-lofty family?”
He chuckled and shrugged. “It would fix a few problems.”
“What problems are those?”
He gazed into her beautiful blue eyes, anxious to unburden himself, but he didn’t dare. As each day raced by and he managed to omit Priscilla from the conversation, he was climbing out onto a limb with Evangeline.
If she was apprised of his betrothal, she’d be crushed and furious. But then she’d learn of it very soon when he left for London and came back a married man. Which was worse? To be informed at once? Or to hear servants’ gossip?
He was so smart, but such a coward. How had he landed himself in such a quagmire?
“Your station doesn’t concern me,” he said. “I haven’t been fretting over it.”
She studied him, then to his great surprise, she said, “Should I wed the vicar?”
He held himself very still, eager to formulate the correct comment, to not let his enormous affection or enormous ego get in the way of his response.
“Why are you asking? Are you having second thoughts?”
“Yes. He and I are incredibly mismatched.”
“I agree.”
“I’ve tried to deny it, and I’ve even denied it to you¸ but I have to start being honest with myself. I should back out, but I’m so conflicted.”
“Why?”
“My circumstances are the same as they’ve always been. If I cry off, I’m afraid about what will happen to me. I’ve written to two old friends, seeking their assistance, but they haven’t replied.”
“That’s too bad.”
“If I had any other option, I’d take it.”
She paused, clearly waiting for him to jump in and say yes, there was an option, that he was the answer to her prayers. But with his marriage so near, he was in no position to help her.
Despite his concerted efforts at wearing her down, she wasn’t interested in an indecent liaison, and as to Priscilla, Aaron would have plenty of trouble with her as his wife. He wouldn’t deliberately exacerbate the situation by supporting Evangeline financially. He barely knew her, and there was no justification for it.
