by Cheryl Holt
In her current condition, if she tried to explain her decision, she’d babble like an idiot. So…she’d go first thing in the morning.
As she waffled and debated, a carriage turned up the drive, and she winced. Who could it be? With Aaron out of the house, she would have to clarify her presence, but how would she describe herself?
She and Aaron hadn’t discussed a single detail about their marriage, and until he declared the situation to his father and friends, she couldn’t claim a close acquaintance. She would have to say she was the vicar’s fiancée, which—in view of her new circumstance—she shouldn’t keep repeating.
She continued to watch the vehicle and saw that it was very fancy, being pulled by four matching white horses. The animals had ribbons braided in their manes and tails, and the coach had a crest on the door that indicated an elevated lineage.
There was an awful lot of luggage attached, as if—whoever it was—they planned an extended stay, and Evangeline’s spirits flagged. She didn’t want company! She and Aaron had vital matters to sort out, and she needed to be alone with him while they figured out how the future would unfold.
For a frightening instant, she worried that Aaron’s father had arrived. What if he’d come to chase Evangeline away? She’d been too much of a coward to press Aaron about his visit to London, so she didn’t know if he’d told his father about her. If they’d fought, how had they left things?
What if it was Lord Sidwell and he was angry and abrasive? Aaron wouldn’t return for ages, and the notion of facing his father was terrifying.
The carriage passed by the window and rolled out of sight. Evangeline dawdled, wondering if she shouldn’t go to her room, but hating to feel she should hide. She’d been living in the manor for several weeks, and though it was wrong, she was starting to think of it as her own. Especially after what she and Aaron had done.
Eventually, she would be mistress of Fox Run, so it seemed she should be allowed to greet guests, to welcome them inside. But for the moment, she was simply a guest herself and had to remain in the shadows until Aaron pushed her into the light.
Soon, the front door opened, and servants tramped in and out. The butler’s voice wafted toward her, and Evangeline frowned as a female answered him.
Who could it be?
She stood and, shortly, the butler approached and stepped into the parlor.
“If you’ll wait here, ladies,” he said, “I’ll have refreshments served.”
“Thank you,” two women said in unison as they skirted by him.
They were obviously mother and daughter, the younger one very beautiful with white-blond hair, striking blue eyes, and a voluptuous figure. The mother was an exact replica, perhaps twenty years older. They looked rich and sophisticated.
The butler noticed her hovering. “Miss Etherton, I didn’t realize you were still in here.”
“I was finishing my letter. It’s on the table in the foyer.”
She walked to the trio as the butler puffed himself up and announced, “We have important guests.”
Evangeline smiled. “I see that.”
He gestured dramatically. “May I present Lord Run’s fiancée, Miss Priscilla Cummings? And her mother, Mrs. Cummings?”
Evangeline gasped. She didn’t mean to; it just slipped out.
“What did you say?”
But he didn’t respond. Instead, he introduced Evangeline. “This is Miss Etherton. She’s engaged to the vicar, and she’s staying at Fox Run until her wedding.” He glanced at the women. “I believe you know the vicar. It’s Mr. Bosworth? He and Lord Run are cousins.”
“Yes, we know him,” Mrs. Cummings said.
Their stares condescending, their disdain blatant, mother and daughter studied Evangeline. In her gray dress, with her messy chignon that had strands falling everywhere, she might have been a beleaguered governess.
Clearly, they didn’t like to find her in the house. With a subtle nod to each other, they spun away as if Evangeline was invisible.
“Is Aaron at home?” Priscilla Cummings asked the butler.
“No, he’s out. We don’t expect him for hours.”
“Lovely,” she purred. Her tone was so soft and soothing she’d probably had elocution lessons.
Miss Cummings spoke to her mother. “While he’s away, we’ll be able to take all sorts of measurements.”
“Yes,” her mother replied, “and we can sneak into his bedchamber and poke around. You’ve always hated those maroon drapes.”
“And that wallpaper!” Miss Cummings simpered. “It will all have to go. I don’t care how he complains.”
She and her mother chuckled as if her complaints about the wallpaper were a running joke with Aaron.
Miss Cummings told Evangeline, “The wedding is very close, so I’ve been busy. Aaron would like me to redecorate, but I’ve been swamped and haven’t had a chance to think about it.”
Evangeline had no idea how she remained on her feet. She really and truly thought she was about to faint. Could they see how she was shaking?
“The wedding is close?” Evangeline forced out.
“In three weeks.”
If Miss Cummings had pulled out a pistol and shot Evangeline right between the eyes, Evangeline couldn’t have been anymore shocked.
“Three weeks?” she breathed, but no one paid her any attention.
Miss Cummings was talking to the butler. “Would you ask Cook if she has any of those little blueberry cakes she bakes? I love those. If she doesn’t have any this morning, could we have some for tea this afternoon?”
“I’ll inquire for you.” The butler was all smiles, all fawning obsequiousness. “Please make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll notify you when your rooms are ready.”
He swept out, and Evangeline was alone with the two women. They went over to a sofa and confidently plopped down—as if they owned the place, as if it had been theirs forever.
“How long have you known Aa…” Evangeline caught herself before she inappropriately used his given name. “How long have you known Lord Run?”
“Since I was a baby,” Miss Cummings said. “Our estate borders Sidwell. We grew up together.”
Evangeline was so dizzy she could barely stand. “When were you betrothed?”
Her mother answered. “His father and I had discussed it ever since Priscilla was born. We always planned on it, but it’s only been official the past year.”
Miss Cummings held out a hand, displaying an emerald ring with a stone that was as big as a bird’s egg. Fat diamonds circled it. “This is the engagement ring of the Sidwell heir. It was his mother’s. Isn’t it gorgeous? I realize it’s horrid to flaunt it, but I just love to show it off.”
Evangeline was swaying, about to collapse, and she grabbed the back of a chair to keep from toppling over.
“Sit, Miss Etherton.” Mrs. Cummings waved to the sofa across. “Tell us about you and Cousin Iggy. You must be so excited to have your own wedding coming.”
Miss Cummings said, “We had heard Iggy was betrothed. Lord Sidwell—my father-in-law—was very helpful in arranging it. Have you met Lord Sidwell? He’s such a dear, always thinking of everyone but himself.”
She smiled a feline smile, and there was a hint of cruelty behind it. If she’d been a venomous snake, Evangeline would already have been bitten, would already have been dead on the floor.
Had Miss Cummings and her mother learned about Aaron and Evangeline? Were they aware of how Evangeline had misbehaved with him? They couldn’t be. Could they? No one knew! Evangeline had been so discreet. Yet what was she to assume? The Cummings women oozed malice.
“I’m not feeling very well,” Evangeline mumbled.
“That’s too bad.” Mrs. Cummings evinced no inkling of concern.
“I was up late. I’m probably just tired.”
“Then a nap is certainly in order.” Miss Cummings gestured to the door. “Don’t let us keep you.”
“Yes, if you’ll excuse me?�
�
She started out, when Miss Cummings called, “Oh, and Miss Etherton?”
Evangeline glanced back. “Yes?”
“Aaron and I would like to have an intimate supper. The dining room will be off limits to you this evening.”
Her mother spitefully added, “We’ll have a tray sent up to you, so the bride and groom won’t be interrupted.”
Evangeline staggered out. The world seemed to have tipped off its axis, and she couldn’t find her balance. She made it to the hall, but had to press a palm to the wall so she didn’t fall down.
He was engaged to be married? He’d been engaged for a whole year? His wedding was in three weeks?
She’d spent the prior month, letting him charm her, letting him seduce and woo her. She’d known better, but she’d never met a man like him before, so she’d forgotten all the lessons Miss Peabody had taught her.
She’d tossed it all away, and for what?
With a wail of despair, she lurched toward the stairs, wondering what to do.
* * * *
“To heck with business,” Aaron announced. “I’d much rather play.”
Aaron grinned at Bryce, and Bryce was taken aback.
“Are you ill?” Bryce asked.
“Why?”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you say you would ignore your chores.”
“I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“It’s about damn time too. You should enjoy a frenzy of pleasurable activities for I’m sure that being shackled to Priscilla will be a bit of a trial.”
Aaron chuckled. “You could be right about that.”
They had ridden out early, with Aaron expecting to visit a neighboring farm to look at some horses that were for sale. But he’d quickly realized he was too unsettled to be away from the estate, away from Evangeline.
Upon arising, he’d been so overwhelmed by what had happened between them that he’d been confused as to how he should behave, so he’d reverted to form. He’d tried to go about his day as if it was any other. Yet they’d only traveled a few miles down the road.
He didn’t care about how he was supposed to act, how he would usually act. There was such a short period remaining where he could truly be with Evangeline as frequently as he liked. He was like a man facing the gallows, counting down to the end.
They were back at Fox Run, having left their horses with a stable boy, and they were headed for the front door. Aaron was so excited to see Evangeline, he felt as if he was floating, as if his feet didn’t touch the ground.
“Could I ask you something?” Bryce suddenly said, and at his solemn tone, Aaron stopped walking.
“What is it?”
“Have you…ah…told Evangeline about your wedding?”
Aaron frowned, frantic questions racing through his mind. Did Bryce suspect Aaron’s infatuation? Had Aaron given himself away? He thought he’d been discreet, but then he and Bryce had been friends a long time.
“Why would you ask me that?” Aaron was stalling, struggling to figure out what notion he wished to convey.
Appearing troubled, Bryce frowned too. “Look, I’ll just come out and say it. You can tell me to sod off if you want.”
“I will if it’s deserved. What is it you need to know?”
“Are you in love with her?”
“In love?” Aaron pronounced the word love as if he’d never heard it before.
“I understand it’s none of my affair, but I saw you two riding the other day. Your affection for her was blatant and shocking.”
Aaron tepidly stated, “I’m charmed by her.”
“Aren’t we all? What is your plan? And please don’t insult my intelligence by claiming you’re barely acquainted.”
Aaron should have denied any fondness, but he doubted he could hide his sentiment from Bryce.
“I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Why have you kept your engagement a secret from her? Are you pretending you might marry her instead? I’m afraid that’s the impression you’re creating.”
“Why would you imagine that?”
“The poor girl is not from our world, Aaron. She hasn’t the sophistication to involve herself with you.”
“Probably not.”
“Have you encouraged her to cry off from her betrothal?” Aaron’s cheeks flushed with chagrin, and Bryce bristled. “Oh, you horse’s ass! What will happen to her if she doesn’t wed the vicar? Will you let her stay at Fox Run? Until when? Until you stroll in with your wife on your arm?”
Aaron hemmed and hawed. He was aware of how badly he’d treated Evangeline, so he couldn’t paint himself in a more flattering light.
Still, he tried to insist, “It’s not what you think.”
“It’s not? Have you seduced her? Are you fornicating with her?”
“I’d like to marry her!” Aaron said, avoiding any confession as to carnal dalliance. “When I went to London last week, it was to inform my father I would separate from Priscilla so I could wed Evangeline.”
“I hope to God Lord Sidwell yanked you back to your senses.”
“He did, so I’m working to convince Evangeline to be my mistress. I raised the possibility when we’d first met, but she was opposed. We’re much closer now, and I’m certain I can change her mind.”
Aaron was almost desperate in his assertions, as if he was persuading himself rather than Bryce, and Bryce was regarding him so skeptically.
“I like her, Aaron. I like her very much.”
“Well, I love her.”
“You have to tell her about Priscilla.” It looked as if Aaron might argue the point, so Bryce stated more firmly, “You have to! Why, she might learn of it in passing from one of the servants. What if she discovered it that way?” More grimly, more sternly, Bryce added, “She has to hear it from you.”
“Then she won’t keep on with me,” Aaron bleakly replied, “and I couldn’t bear it if she left. Can’t you understand? I’m finally happy!”
“So bloody what?” Bryce fumed. “You’re happy. Bully for you, but I don’t want her hurt, and if you won’t tell her, I will.”
“Please don’t.”
“Aaron…” Bryce shook his head with disgust. “You’re putting me in a horrid position. When this all blows up—”
“It won’t.”
“It will! I’d hate to realize I could have protected her, but I didn’t.”
“She doesn’t need your protection, Bryce.”
“Doesn’t she?” Bryce seethed.
“Just give me two weeks,” Aaron begged. “If I can get her to agree to be my mistress, everything will be fine. I’ll move her to London and set her up in a house in a nice neighborhood.”
“A little love nest, Aaron? You’d actually arrange it the same week as your wedding? What is wrong with you?”
“I’m simply bowled over by her. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”
“If she won’t agree, and you have to rush off to London to marry Priscilla, what then? What will become of her?”
“Let’s not contemplate my failing. Let’s proceed with the expectation that I’ll wear her down.”
“I doubt you will.”
“And I’m sure I will.” They paused, on the verge of a major quarrel, and Aaron begged again, “Please, Bryce? Two weeks?”
“All right, but only two weeks. I won’t wait a second more.”
“Thank you. You’re a good friend.”
“I’m a foolish friend.”
“That too.”
Aaron’s retort dragged a smile from Bryce. They hurried on to the manor, and Aaron practically bounded up the stairs, being that thrilled to be back with Evangeline.
As they approached the door, the butler opened it and, as Aaron was shucking off his coat, the man said, “We have guests, Lord Run.”
“Guests?” He wasn’t really paying attention. “Who is it?”
“Your fiancée has arrived—with her mother.”
Aa
ron froze. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “Priscilla and Claudia are here?”
“Yes.”
Behind him, Bryce muttered, “Dammit.”
“They’re in the front parlor,” the butler said, “having refreshments while the maids prepare their rooms.” He noted Aaron’s consternation and hesitantly added, “They’ll be with us for a few days? I didn’t suppose you’d mind.”
Before Aaron could muster a response, Evangeline staggered into the hall. She was stumbling along, looking ill, as if she might faint.
“Evangeline!” he murmured, forgetting himself with the familiar form of address. He hastened over to her and took her arm.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he absolutely knew.
“I just met your fiancée,” she said, “and I’d like to be alone.”
She jerked away and continued on, and Aaron felt as if he’d been poleaxed. The butler was confused, staring, and Bryce was glowering, his fury obvious.
“I told you so,” Bryce spat, as Claudia appeared in the doorway to the parlor.
“Aaron, is that you?” she inquired. “We weren’t expecting you so soon. Could I speak with you?”
That feeling of facing the gallows was back. That feeling that his life was over, that time had run out, covered him like a dark cloud.
He gazed at Bryce, visually seeking advice, seeking support, but Bryce merely shrugged. “Go on. See what she has to say. What else can you do?”
Aaron trudged down the hall.
* * * *
Gertrude Bosworth sat in her bedroom suite, reading and rereading the letter Mrs. Turner had brought from Fox Run.
The message Miss Etherton had penned was so galling that—if she’d been present—Gertrude would have grabbed a poker from the fireplace and beat her bloody.
Miss Etherton deemed herself too grand to join the Bosworth family. She was in love and excited to tell her friend, Miss Ralston, about her new swain.
Love, bah! Gertrude fumed.
Who put any stock in love? It was fleeting and ridiculous, the stuff of fairytales and romantic novels. It always faded away, and once it waned, the parties were left with no foundation.
No man’s name had been mentioned—clearly, his name couldn’t be mentioned—and Gertrude was trying to guess who the lucky fellow might be. It was probably that scoundrel Bryce Blair. The only other choice would be Aaron.
