by Cheryl Holt
She snorted with disgust. “I told her you’d say that too.”
An oppressive silence descended, and he remained over by the sideboard, leaned against it as he scrutinized her intensely. She couldn’t bear his potent assessment. Would he detest her now? His behavior could be so erratic. Might he kick her out?
“What are you thinking, Evan?” she inquired. “Please tell me, but first, let me tell you how sorry I am that I shamed you this way.”
His eyes narrowed. “Did you love him?”
“I loved him so much that I don’t have the words to describe it.”
“That’s what I assumed your response would be. I couldn’t picture you involving yourself with him unless you were stridently attached.”
“What would you like me to do? There are homes for women like me, and they’d take the child and put it out for adoption, but I’m guessing this will be the only child I’ll ever have, and it’s James’s baby. I can’t imagine giving it away.”
“No, I can’t imagine that.”
“Yet I can’t stay here and allow the neighbors to discover my predicament.”
“No, that’s not feasible either.”
“I could move to the country and pretend to be a war widow. I could claim my husband died.”
He nodded. “There are plenty of those walking around.”
“But…I want to be with you and Victoria and Laura. I couldn’t abide the prospect of having to live by myself. I’m not a person who should be left to her own devices.”
He chuckled, but grimly. “No, you definitely shouldn’t be left on your own.”
“How should I proceed? What would you like to have happen?”
“We don’t have to figure it out tonight.”
He came over to her then, and he rested his palm on the top of her head as their mother used to do when they were fretting and she was eager to calm them. It was a sweet gesture, a familiar gesture.
Amelia gazed up at him. “You don’t hate me?”
“Hate you? Don’t be absurd. I probably hate James Hastings though.”
“You shouldn’t. Our affair was all my fault. I encouraged him like the worst kind of trollop.”
“I doubt that, but we’ll leave the issue of blame for another day.”
“All right, but can you ever forgive me? Can you try?”
His smiled. “You’re having a baby, Amelia. It’s not the end of the world.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Evan walked to the stairs and called, “Victoria! Would you come down here? I need you.”
“I’ll be right there,” she replied.
“Is Laura awake? If she is, bring her too.”
He returned to the parlor where Amelia was still seated in her chair.
“I thought you’d talk to her later,” she said.
“My marriage will be a family event. So will your having a baby. I figure we ought to all participate.”
Momentarily, Victoria strolled in. Laura was with her, dressed in her nightgown, her white-blond hair brushed and braided down her back. She looked pretty and fresh-scrubbed, like the daughter of doting parents.
“Have I dragged you out of bed?” he asked her.
She didn’t respond. She wasn’t afraid of him exactly, but she was never comfortable around men, and she hadn’t warmed to him yet. Amelia figured she would though. As Evan’s mood and temper calmed, he’d wear her down.
“I apologize for forcing you to get up,” he told her, “but I have some important announcements, and I’d like you to hear them.”
He gestured for them to enter the room, and they sat together on the sofa.
“First of all,” he said to Laura, “I wanted to welcome you to the family.” Laura’s eyes widened as he continued. “Victoria tells me you’ve never had a stable home, and you’ve been worried over whether or not I’ll allow you to stay with us.”
“I have been worried,” Laura admitted.
“Well, you must stop worrying. You will stay with us forever—I promise—until you’re an adult and you wed a fine husband who will take you away to live in your own home. But until then, even if you grow sick of us, we won’t let you go.”
Laura studied him as if it might be a trick. “Are you sure?”
“Am I sure?” Evan feigned offense and spun to Amelia. “Have I ever made a promise I didn’t keep?”
“No, never.”
“Do you believe Amelia?” he asked Laura. “Do you trust her?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Evan said. “Then trust her on this. Second of all, I have a secret to tell you about her.”
Amelia winced. “Oh, Evan, please don’t.”
He frowned at her. “We won’t be furtive about what’s occurring. I won’t have Laura or the servants tiptoeing around and trying to find out why we’re whispering.”
Victoria smiled at Amelia. “You won’t be able to hide it much longer anyway.”
With Victoria concurring, he puffed himself up and declared, “Amelia is having a baby.”
Laura gasped. “When?”
“In the spring,” Amelia said. “We’ll have to confer with a midwife to have a clearer date.”
“Does Captain Hastings know?”
Laura’s question had Amelia wondering what Laura had discerned about Amelia’s relationship with James, but also what she understood about the facts of life.
“No, Captain Hastings doesn’t know,” Amelia said. “I didn’t know myself until Victoria pointed it out. It’s why I’ve been so ill.”
“She’s not married,” Evan said, “and we have no idea if she ever will be, so we may encounter a scandal when people learn of her condition. But we won’t tolerate anyone denigrating or maligning her. Are we agreed on that?”
Victoria and Laura nodded, and Laura said, “I like babies, and I like Captain Hastings too.”
Evan gazed at Victoria. “Victoria, would you join me?”
She peeked at Amelia, curious as to what was happening, but Amelia’s expression was blank. Victoria shrugged, glanced nervously at Laura, then went over to him. He clasped hold of her hand, and he stared at her, his fondness evident and endearing.
“I planned to speak to you alone,” he said to her, “but as I mentioned, this is a family affair. We should all be part of it.”
“Part of what?” Victoria appeared perplexed, so perhaps she didn’t realize what he intended. If not, she was about to be very surprised.
“I’ve only just met you, but I feel as if we’ve always been acquainted. I don’t need to debate or consider. I simply need to ask if you would honor me by becoming my bride.”
Victoria blanched with shock. “What?”
“I used to be an amazing catch, but I’m not so much anymore. Still though, I offer you what I have: my home, my protection, my name. I have but one good arm, it’s true, but it will never prevent me from loving you until my dying day.”
“Evan Boyle!” Victoria’s tone was scolding. “We haven’t even discussed this!”
“We don’t have to discuss it. You just have to say yes.” With a bit of effort—his balance wasn’t ever steady—he dropped to one knee. “Victoria, will you be my wife?”
“Oh…oh…”
Victoria looked over at Amelia, as if seeking her permission.
“I’ve given him my blessing,” Amelia said. “Now you should give him your answer. I would be overjoyed to have you as my sister.”
Victoria whipped her adoring attention to Evan. “Yes, yes, you silly fool! Of course I’ll wed you. I can’t believe you asked me! Get up, get up!”
She helped him to his feet, and he fumbled in his coat, but he couldn’t retrieve what he was hunting for. He groaned with frustration and requested, “Reach into the pocket of my vest, would you? I have something for you, but I can’t grab it.”
She pulled out a thin gold band that Amelia recognized as her mother’s wedding ring. After some additional fumbl
ing, he slid it onto Victoria’s finger.
“Promise yourself to me, Victoria, and be mine forever.”
“I will be yours, Evan. I promise.”
“I hope you’ll wear this ring as a token of how happy you make me. It was my mother’s.”
“Then I shall always cherish it.”
They grinned like a pair of halfwits, then Evan brazenly kissed her, with Amelia and Laura watching all. Laura laughed and clapped—quite a spontaneous outburst for her.
When he’d initially revealed his decision, Amelia had been concerned, but on observing them together, she was relieved and glad. Evan would never regret his choice, and she suspected Victoria wouldn’t either. The poor widow who’d been searching for security would find so much more than that.
Amelia said to Laura, “We should go upstairs and leave them alone. They have a lot to talk about.”
Evan mouthed to Amelia, Thank you!
They headed for the door, and at the last second, Laura asked Evan, “When will the wedding be?”
Evan’s grin widened. “Just as fast as I can apply for a Special License—and I intend to hurry. I can’t give her a chance to change her mind.”
* * * *
Evan sat in the parlor, loafing in front of the fire and drinking another whiskey that he didn’t really need. His hand—that was no longer there—was aching unbearably. He was anxious to dull the pain with some laudanum, but he wouldn’t.
It was very late, and Victoria was in bed. He’d been so forlorn that he’d nearly begged to join her, but he’d managed to refrain. They would be married shortly, so they’d be able to share a room very soon. The notion was so comforting his pulse raced.
He was about to be an uncle and a husband. With their welcoming Laura into the fold, he could consider himself a father too. Hopefully, he and Victoria would have many other children as well. In a few years, the house would echo with the giggles and tromping feet of his growing family.
He heard footsteps on the stairs and realized it was Amelia tiptoeing down. She came over to him and rested a palm on his shoulder.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked as she settled into the chair next to him.
“No, but that doesn’t mean you have to tarry in the dark with me.”
“I couldn’t sleep either. I have too much on my mind. You definitely took Victoria by surprise with your proposal.”
“I relished every minute of it too.”
“I wondered if you’d be celebrating up in her bed. I wasn’t sure you’d be down here by yourself.”
“You have a wicked, wicked view of me,” he chided with fake outrage, “and if you must know, I’m behaving until my wedding night.”
“She’d probably have invited you in.”
He snorted with amusement. “Don’t tell me that or you’ll have me running up and knocking on her door.”
She pointed to his whiskey. “Are your wounds hurting?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
She went to the sideboard, fetched the decanter, and refilled his glass. Then she poured herself a glass of wine and returned to her chair.
“Let’s toast,” she said.
“To what?”
“To us. We’re alive and muddling through.”
“It doesn’t seem like much of an accomplishment.”
“I disagree. You could have perished, so it seems like an enormous achievement to me.”
They clinked their glasses, then sipped their drinks.
“Captain Hastings always told me his injuries were fine too,” she said. “He always insisted it was nothing—even when he was so miserable he could barely walk.”
“He was wounded?”
“At Waterloo.”
He scowled. “Will you constantly aggravate me with tales about your lost love?”
“Yes. I was disgustingly besotted, and I can’t predict when I’ll recover from my infatuation. Maybe never.”
“Is your heart broken?”
“Quite broken.”
“We’ll have to get you healed. Perhaps Victoria can help you. She’s terribly adept at mending people who are shattered.”
“She’s worked a miracle with you.”
“That she has.” He grinned over at her. “If you have a boy, you won’t name him James, will you? I couldn’t abide it.”
“Did I tell you Captain Hastings is actually Lord Denby?”
Evan’s scowl deepened. “That can’t be true. He’s merely an army horse trainer. He’s renowned for it.”
“No, he’s Denby. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he is. All the cousins died who were in line ahead of him, and he was the only heir left.”
He gazed caustically at her stomach. “Are you claiming you might have a little earl as the bun in your oven?”
“I might.”
“Then we’d better pray long and hard that you have a girl. If it’s a boy, the morass it will stir over inheritance issues will be too exhausting.”
“I’m not worrying about it. At the moment, none of it seems real anyway. I just want to get through it safe and sound and with the baby born healthy.”
Quietly, sternly, he stated, “We have to contact him, you know. I’ll write a letter tomorrow.”
“Yes, I suppose you should.”
“In case he didn’t depart for India, I’ll order him to haul his sorry hide to London and marry you. You’ll have him for a husband whether you like it or not.”
“I doubt he’ll come—despite how you bluster and threaten.”
“He won’t dare defy me or I’ll lodge a complaint with the army. They’ll force him to behave as he ought.”
She tsked with exasperation. “He’s as pompous and overbearing as you are. I can’t wait to see how the two of you manage this.”
“It’s a fight I intend to win. He could never best me.” They were silent for a bit, then he said, “Can I tell you something that’s completely stupid and ridiculous?”
“Haven’t you always?”
“Yes, but this is particularly absurd.”
“What is it?”
“I miss Peyton.”
“Of course you do. He was like a brother to you.”
“I especially miss him now—with my mustering out of the navy. He’s the sole person who might commiserate over what I’ve been through.”
As boys, he and Peyton had been classmates at a military academy, then they’d enlisted together. They’d always sailed together, with Peyton the captain of their various ships and Evan his first officer. They’d been closer than brothers—until Peyton’s idiocy and Evan’s temper had torn them apart.
The prior summer, Peyton had suffered an accident, being so badly hurt that he’d had to retire from the navy. He’d stopped by to apprise Evan of how devastated he was, but Evan had been a prick who wouldn’t listen.
It was totally fitting that he was in the exact same situation, and he yearned to have his old friend empathize and console him. He also yearned to hear Peyton’s advice on being a civilian, on not being a sailor, on not being anyone at all.
Peyton had had a year to practice at acclimating to his new condition. What lessons might he convey?
“I bet he misses you too,” Amelia said.
“Do you think he might?”
“Yes.”
“I wish he would stand up with me at my wedding too. There’s never been a man in my life besides Peyton who should assume that role.”
Amelia nodded. “He should stand up with you. It makes perfect sense.”
“I was so horrid to him last fall when he was searching for Josephine. Would he even speak to me? Or would he simply tell me to bugger off?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” she told him. “We’ll write to him and ask.”
“I can’t imagine what I’d say to him. I have no idea how to apologize or beg his pardon.”
“Neither would
he,” Amelia snidely retorted.
“I’d be too embarrassed to pen a letter.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be. I’ve hated this quarrel. Hasn’t it gone on long enough? With him married to Jo and you about to marry Victoria, it’s silly to have it festering out there on our horizon.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I will write to him for you,” Amelia said.
“What if we don’t receive a reply?”
She grinned. “Then I’ll ride to Benton and scold him for being such an idiot.”
* * * *
“What are you doing?”
Holden frowned at Brinley. She was in his bedchamber, stretched out on the bed, and studying an object in her hand.
“I’ve been snooping in your possessions,” she said.
She flashed a look that sent a shiver down his spine. She was tremendously talented, but dangerously corrupt and—he suspected—crazy as a loon.
“I asked you not to ever come in here.”
“And I told you you’re not my father or my husband. Don’t boss me.”
He walked over, feeling almost afraid of her. He never ceased to be amazed by her audacity, but she could definitely be exhausting. She wasn’t a girl any man should cross without carefully reviewing his choices.
She sat up, and when she showed him what she was holding, he blanched with dismay.
“Where did you get those?” he demanded.
“The better question is: Where did you get them? Are they real?”
“Yes, they’re real.”
“Diamonds, right?”
“Yes, diamonds. I stole them in a swindle awhile back.”
“Why haven’t you sold them?”
“They’re insurance—in case I’m ever in a jam. I can travel far with that sort of fortune stashed in my pocket.”
He grabbed her wrist and swiped them from her hand into his. The cloth bag he kept them in was lying on the mattress. He picked it up, dumped the gems into it, then stuck the bag in his coat.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d explain how you found them,” he said.
She bristled with annoyance. “As if you could conceal a treasure from me. Didn’t we agree to share and share alike? You’ve hidden them from me, so I’m wondering what else you might be hiding.”
