Wonderful

by Cheryl Holt

  He constantly chastised Lucas for his reckless fiscal habits, but Lord Sidwell wasn’t any different—especially with regard to his gambling—but the family couldn’t afford it. The Sidwell estate couldn’t afford it. Aaron couldn’t afford it. If his father dropped dead that instant, the debts would pass to Aaron.

  In his own life, Fox Run was prosperous, and he was careful about his finances. As a boy, he’d had excellent tutors and had learned his lessons well. He didn’t throw his money away, and he’d drown himself in the ocean before he’d enter a gambling house.

  Claudia had paid a substantial portion of the dowry to Lord Sidwell, and he’d squandered most of it. If he was still in town, he was likely borrowing against future monies Claudia was obligated to tender after the wedding. Every penny Lord Sidwell frittered away made it harder for Aaron to reach the resolution with Priscilla he was desperate to achieve.

  They were in his father’s library, with guests about to arrive for supper. It was the first quiet moment they’d had since Aaron had returned to London.

  “Have you been at Fox Run the whole time?” Lord Sidwell asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Getting the place ready for your bride, are you?”

  “Not really. It’s in fine condition. It doesn’t need alterations.”

  “Every bride makes changes.”

  “I don’t want anything changed. I like it just how it is.”

  “We can have this discussion again in a few months, and we’ll see how matters stand.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Wives generally get their way with household affairs. On the husband’s end, it’s typically not worth fussing over. I suggest you set up an account for her and tell her how much she can spend. Otherwise, she’ll bankrupt you before Christmas.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Lord Sidwell was seated at his desk, Aaron in the chair across. They were having a brandy, trying to pretend the conversation wasn’t awkward and strained. Lord Sidwell was difficult to like, and Aaron didn’t like him very much—mostly because of his horrid reprimands of Lucas when they were children.

  Aaron had been the perfect and adored son, while Lucas had been wild and unruly and constantly—viciously—punished. Aaron suffered great guilt over their disparate treatment, and his relationship with his brother was rocky because of it.

  Still, Aaron was courteous and civil to Lord Sidwell. Their family was very small, without a hoard of aunties and uncles and just a scattering of distant cousins such as Gertrude and Iggy Bosworth. Mostly, it was Aaron, Lucas, and his father, and if Aaron didn’t have his father and his brother in his life, who would he have? Priscilla and Claudia?

  “Have you heard from Lucas?” he asked his father.

  “Don’t mention your brother to me.”

  Lord Sidwell and Lucas were fighting again, with Lord Sidwell having proclaimed Lucas to be disowned and disinherited. The usual threats.

  Aaron rolled his eyes. “Have you heard from him!”

  “Yes.”

  “You received a letter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he found Miss Hubbard? Has he proposed?”

  “He found her, and I believe she agreed to have him. Poor girl.”

  “Are they married? Have they eloped across the border? What?”

  “I’m not his social secretary, Aaron. I have neither the desire nor the need to be apprised of his plans.”

  “If they didn’t elope, are they coming to London to wed here? Or are they hoping to wed at Sidwell Manor?”

  “He will not wed at Sidwell Manor. He’s not welcome there, and he knows my feelings about it.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” Aaron scolded. “You’ve been trying to marry him off for eight years, and he’s finally done as you’ve been demanding. I like Miss Hubbard, and she’ll be good for him. If they wish to have the ceremony at Sidwell, then of course they will. I won’t let you refuse to host a celebration for them.”

  “I won’t spend a farthing on it,” his father petulantly snapped.

  “Then I will. If you’re determined to behave like a fool, you’ll only be hurting Miss Hubbard. I’m sure Lucas couldn’t care less where he marries.”

  “Precisely.”

  “So if they ask to use Sidwell Manor, it will be because Miss Hubbard would like to honor you by holding it there.”

  “Oh,” Lord Sidwell grumbled, the notion obviously not having occurred to him.

  Aaron thought Miss Hubbard would be a breath of fresh air for the family, that she was exactly the sort of kind, considerate person they should have in their midst. And she was madly in love with Lucas.

  Aaron had once watched Miss Hubbard and Lucas together, had observed their visible affection, and he’d wondered how it would feel to have a woman gaze at him like that someday. Well, it had happened, and he could definitely say it was remarkable. It certainly trumped Priscilla’s cool, detached disinterest.

  “Speaking of weddings”—Aaron had to force himself to address the difficult topic—“I need to talk to you about mine.”

  “Three weeks away, hm? Coming at you with lightning speed.”

  “Yes, it’s coming much too quickly.”

  “You seem much more resigned than the last time we discussed it.” His father flashed a sly grin. “You must have taken my advice. I heard Florella Bernard was with you at Fox Run.”

  His father’s comment raised a dozen questions, and Aaron could hardly decide which to address first. He chose Florella.

  “How did you know Florella traveled with me?”

  “An acquaintance mentioned it. People delight in apprising me of you and your brother’s antics.” His father grinned again. “Since you appear much more relaxed, I assume you enjoyed her in all the ways I suggested.”

  His father had told Aaron to have a fling before the wedding. Initially, Aaron had been offended by the idea. But, apparently, he hadn’t been as offended as he’d believed himself to be. Hadn’t he raced to Fox Run and acted just as his father had directed him to act?

  “I haven’t been consorting with Florella.”

  “You needn’t lie about it, Aaron. We’re both adults. You don’t have to hide your indiscretions from me. I’m usually informed about them anyway.”

  “Bryce was with me too. He brought her.”

  “So? Doxies are notorious for sharing their favors.”

  “I didn’t share favors or anything else with her.”

  “Say what you will,” his father smugly replied. “I can see from your demeanor that someone relieved your stress.”

  “It wasn’t Florella.”

  Aaron’s tone was suddenly very solemn, very serious, and in the embarrassed silence that followed, Lord Sidwell mused, “There was a woman at Fox Run?”

  “There was.”

  “I’m so glad. With how your mood has altered, she must have been amazing.”

  “She was. She is.”

  “She is? Are you setting her up as your mistress? Good for you. It will ease your transition from bachelor to husband.”

  “I’m not setting her up as my mistress.”

  “What then?” Lord Sidwell pondered the situation, then gasped. “Don’t tell me she’s a housemaid at Fox Run. That could be a bit dicey once Priscilla moves in.”

  “No, she’s not a housemaid.”

  “But she’s still at Fox Run? I hate to sound like an old fusspot, but is that wise?”

  Aaron chuckled miserably. “No, there’s nothing wise about it at all.”

  “You have to secret her away. I’m all for a man doing as he likes in his private affairs, but a wife has a way of sniffing out an indiscretion. The woman’s proximity could get you and Priscilla off to a rocky start.”

  “We’re already off to a rocky start.”

  “You’ll figure out how to carry on, but a paramour on the premises won’t help.”

  “I don’t want to simply carry on. I want much more than
that in my life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Aaron felt as if he was on a cliff and racing toward the edge. He hurled himself over, falling free, curious as to where and how he would land.

  “I’ve decided to cry off.”

  “What?”

  “I won’t marry Priscilla.”

  His father stared and stared, then banged a palm against his ear. “There must be some problem with my hearing. I could have sworn you said you were crying off.”

  “Your hearing is fine. You know precisely what I said.”

  “Aaron, the wedding is in three weeks! It’s been coming for an entire year.”

  “I’m aware of how long it’s been coming. I lived through every blasted day of the engagement.”

  “And now—here at the very end—you think you can just change your mind?”

  “Yes.”

  “You act as if we’re dithering over how much sugar you’d like in your tea.”

  “I realize how serious this is. Don’t lecture me.”

  “Don’t lecture you? Don’t lecture you?” Lord Sidwell’s voice and temper were rising. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t lock you in an asylum for this.”

  “There’s no need to threaten or bellow. I intend to discuss this quietly and rationally, or I won’t discuss it at all. I’m asking you how to handle the dissolution with a minimum of fuss and bother. If you refuse to advise me, I shall ride back to Fox Run, and I won’t return, which will leave you to clean up the mess on your own.”

  “He calls it a fuss!” his father muttered to himself. “A fuss!”

  Lord Sidwell gaped at Aaron. He looked thunderstruck and more enraged than Aaron had ever seen him, and considering how Lucas had vexed their father over the years, that was really saying something.

  “What the hell has come over you?” his father demanded.

  “I don’t wish to marry Priscilla.”

  “So? You never wished to.”

  “I’ve…met someone else. I wish to marry her instead.”

  “Someone else?” His father’s face was such a violent shade of red that he appeared on the verge of collapse. “Is it this woman at Fox Run?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been acquainted with her…what? All of two weeks?”

  “Actually, it’s more like three weeks.”

  Crudely, his father sneered, “You’ve been fucking some trollop for three weeks and—”

  Incensed at the slur to Evangeline’s character, Aaron huffed, “She’s not a trollop, and I haven’t been fornicating with her.”

  His father ignored Aaron’s comment. “You feel this makes her qualified to eventually be Countess of Sidwell? Because you’ve known her for twenty-one days? Please tell me you haven’t lost your bloody mind.”

  When his father put it like that, Aaron’s declaration sounded patently ridiculous.

  At Fox Run, Evangeline had charmed him, and with their being sequestered in the country, it had seemed perfectly logical that Aaron shuck off all that he was and all he’d ever been. He’d convinced himself that he could blithely ruin several lives—most particularly his own—merely to satisfy his quest to be happy.

  But as his father had mentioned, he hardly knew Evangeline. He was such a self-centered oaf that he’d scarcely quizzed her about her background. She’d once told him she was an orphan and had no details regarding her history or family. She could be anyone! She could come from any inferior place!

  Aaron believed in the British system. The lower classes shouldn’t mingle with the upper ones. There were reasons people were separated, that lines shouldn’t be crossed, but when he was in Evangeline’s company, she was like a sorceress. He forgot the rules and restrictions by which he’d been raised, by which he’d always thrived and succeeded. She was just so amazing.

  When he was with her, it was difficult not to love her. And he did love her. Wildly and heedlessly. But so what?

  He was pragmatic, sensible, and prudent. He’d never been governed by his emotions, had never let sentiment guide him. He assessed a situation, evaluated the pros and cons, then proceeded in the most cautious and rational fashion.

  He’d never previously been in love. Was that the problem? Was romantic attachment driving him insane?

  He yearned to be happy, but it wasn’t a factor that mattered in choosing a bride. Wealth, property, and position were what mattered. Evangeline could never be his wife. She’d be an ideal mistress though, and Aaron had asked her, but she’d refused. Since she’d declined the only function available in his life, why had he assumed she could become more than what was allowed?

  Yet he couldn’t give up on her. He’d promised her they could be together, and he’d meant it.

  Yes, happiness was fleeting and illusory. Yes, passion faded, but he simply liked her so much and wanted to be with her, to be with her forever. What was the answer for them?

  “Who is she?” Lord Sidwell reined in his temper. “Is it anyone I know?”

  “I’m not sure if you’ve met her, but you were responsible for bringing her to Fox Run.”

  “Me? How?”

  “She’s engaged to Cousin Iggy.”

  His father’s brows shot up. “She’s Iggy’s fiancée?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me get this straight. You’d like to cry off from Priscilla, and this woman would cry off from Iggy? You’d destroy two families, then ride off into the sunset?”

  “It wouldn’t be like that,” Aaron tried to claim.

  “It would be exactly like that,” Lord Sidwell hissed. “My God, Aaron, what is wrong with you?”

  “I’m in a terrible state, Father. I feel half mad with indecision.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Evangeline Etherton.”

  “Ah, yes,” his father said. “Are you aware of where I found this stellar specimen of womanhood?”

  “No, where?”

  “You haven’t bothered to inquire? You’re ready to push her into line to be our next countess, and you didn’t think you should find out?”

  “It all happened so fast.”

  “She taught at that stupid school with Miss Hubbard.”

  “No…” Aaron breathed.

  “Yes,” his father replied. “She boarded there as a girl, and she was a teacher later on.”

  “She told me she’d been a teacher.”

  “But she’s an orphan, Aaron, and there is no information as to her antecedents. Her mother could have been a whore in a brothel.”

  Aaron bristled with affront. “Don’t insult her.”

  “I’m not. I’m simply trying to jar you into viewing this rationally. We don’t know her history, and we can’t ever know. How could you—for even a single second—consider her as your countess?”

  “She’s wonderful, Father.” Aaron felt as if he was begging.

  “I’m sure she is, Aaron. If she’s charmed you so thoroughly, and in such a short period of time, she must be magnificent, but it doesn’t signify. It can’t signify.”

  “You had no qualms about betrothing her to Iggy.”

  “Well, of course not. Iggy has naught to recommend him but the post at the church we helped him to secure. And Gertrude was looking for a tepid mouse who would let Gertrude continue to run the household. With Miss Etherton having no kin, she was a perfect bride for him—and his mother.”

  “Even if there might be whoring in her past?” Aaron caustically spat.

  “I shouldn’t have been so crude about her. She probably has a connection to a wealthy family—someone always paid her tuition—but she’d have been some fellow’s by-blow. Very likely, it was a younger son who tumbled a housemaid. You understand how these affairs are handled. She couldn’t be abandoned alongside the road, so she was sent to Miss Peabody.”

  “She’s good enough for Iggy but not for me?”

  “Exactly, and if you weren’t behaving like a lunatic, you’d realize I’m right.”

  “You permitted Lu
cas to marry a teacher from that school. In fact, you absolutely insisted on it.”

  It was the weakest argument Aaron could have raised, and it made him sound frivolous and immature.

  “You’re correct. I picked Miss Hubbard for him, but Lucas isn’t you. Lucas isn’t in line to inherit an earldom. He isn’t in line to become a peer of the realm, and besides, Miss Hubbard’s father was a French count.”

  “A French count?” Aaron scoffed. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Her mother wasn’t that lofty, but her father definitely was. She has a very elevated background, so she’s appropriate for Lucas. But you aren’t Lucas, and you know you’re not. Honestly, Aaron, get a grip on yourself.”

  Aaron took a deep breath, trying to deduce why his scheme had seemed so logical at Fox Run, but why it seemed so absurd now. He might have been a child and his father dissuading him from having a piece of candy he’d desperately wanted to taste. Yet he wasn’t a child, and he hadn’t known Evangeline for twenty-one days.

  He’d spent part of that interval in London, so the actual count was more like fifteen days. Why had he rushed to London and spewed drivel to his father about Evangeline? As his father had pointed out, Aaron belonged in an asylum.

  Evangeline had to be his mistress. He had to convince her to agree. He could set her up in a house in London, and he’d draft a contract with her, would offer her a small pension so she’d be fiscally secure in the future after he tired of her and they went their separate ways.

  It was the only path he could pursue with her, and as to Priscilla…

  If Aaron wished to create a huge catastrophe, he could refuse to wed Priscilla, but then he’d have to select another girl just like her. But if he jilted Priscilla, what other father—after such an outrage—would give Aaron his daughter?

  Aaron would be branded a cad and a liar. He’d be dragged through the courts for breach of contract. He hadn’t inquired as to how much of the dowry Lord Sidwell had frittered away, but Aaron would be bankrupted paying it back.

  As he contemplated the quagmire, he was ill with regret.