The Lady's Chocolatier: a Victorian-era romance novella
Page 11
She nodded and swallowed a couple of times to stave off tears. “That would be nice. Goodbye, Mr. Anderson.” After an exchange of waves, he exited the shop.
Jasper popped in from his work room in the back. The light flickered off behind him. “Just let me lock the front door and we can adjourn upstairs for dinner.”
A sick feeling circled through her stomach. “Let me do it,” she blurted into the awkward silence that fell between them. “I mean, you’ve already done so much today. It’s the least I can do to help.” The longer she looked at him, the more the panic inside built. I cannot go back.
He narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Very well. Don’t linger. I have wished for some time to ask you a question, and mean to do it tonight.” With the light of speculation in his gaze, he removed his apron, hung it on a peg on the wall behind her and then disappeared into the stairwell. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps on the treads grew steadily fainter the higher up he climbed.
Dear merciful heavens!
Her pulse pounded in her ears so hard it throbbed even into her fingertips. He meant to propose again. She knew as surely as she knew her own name. The panic doubled until it clogged her chest and throat in hot waves.
Not again. This cannot happen again.
As she promised, she moved through the shop, extinguishing lamps as she went. The whisper of her skirts across the black-and-white checked marble provided small comfort. Once murky shadows overtook the room as the last light went dark, she hurried over the floor and ducked behind the counter. Her hands shook as she fumbled for the cupboard knob. Finally, she opened it and drew out her carpetbag.
Now or never, Evangeline.
The urge to flee pumped through her veins, the terror of an unknown future spurring her into action. She darted around the counter, sprinted to the front door, the heels of her slippers echoing harshly in the empty shop. With fingers upon the brass hardware, she hesitated and stood staring into the still-steady rain outside.
Is it terrible of me not to give him—us—a chance? Can I take the risk?
She tightened her grip on the carpetbag’s handle. In the end, she didn’t have enough courage to find out. Screwing her resolve to the sticking point and straightening her spine, she pressed the handle and pulled open the door. The cheery jangle of the bells above set her teeth on edge and once more, she paused, listening. Would he come, alerted to her flight?
The thrum of her rapid heartbeat marked the seconds. When Jasper didn’t make an appearance, she relaxed by increments and went to adjust the brim of her hat… only to realize in her haste she’d forgotten to bring that accessory down this morning. Again, she peered at the rain. A sigh escaped. No matter. Perhaps if she hurried, she wouldn’t come away drenched.
Evangeline left the shop and closed the door behind her, the bells once more ringing. Jasper and his emporium were now firmly in her past. She’d made her peace with him. New beginnings were ahead.
Though thoughts crowded into her mind and her stomach muscles twisted with anxiety, she marched down the pavement and in front of darkened store fronts. It wasn’t all that far to Berkley Square. Perhaps she should seek temporary shelter from the rain there and make her way to the train station at first light. She hunched her shoulders as the cold rain dribbled down her nape and beneath the neckline of her gown.
Drat! She’d also forgotten her jacket. What a ninny she’d become since crashing back into Jasper’s life. Thinking about him brought tears into her throat and she swallowed hard a few times. Crying wouldn’t help. What she needed at the moment was to keep walking, put space between her and the man she couldn’t forget. She would trek throughout London as long as it was away from a future of tradition and mind-numbing proper society functions and dictates.
She made it not more than fifteen feet from the emporium before a heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and when she cursed beneath her breath in outrage, she was swung around to face her would-be attacker. Not again. She refused to let herself become a victim as she had on the train. “How dare—”
Jasper stood before her without the benefit of hat or overcoat. The rain soaked into his jacket and wetted his hair. Annoyance flashed briefly in his eyes, and then disappointment overtook it. He dropped his hand from her person. “Will you always run from me, Evie?”
“I don’t… I wasn’t… I cannot…” Devil take it. Why did she need to explain her actions? Moisture crept along her skull and dripped over her forehead as she stood floundering before him.
“No more excuses or letting fear have free rein.” He shook his head. “When will you let yourself be happy and realize you will be with me?” The sound of the rain snatched at his words, so she had to lean closer to hear them. “Your dreams will still remain intact. I won’t take them away from you.”
Her chin quivered. With her free hand, she dashed rain drops from her face. “How can I be assured of that? What if your pretty words are just that and once you’ve got me, you become like all those society people—like your parents or mine, like all the rest who live for show and titles and the façade?”
“Because I am not like them.” He rolled his eyes heavenward before focusing on her once more. A few passersby on the street gave nods and curious stares, but no one lingered. “I am a man who believes every person—male or female—has great capacity to impart a special something to the world. I believe that every person wants to make a difference and that there’s no reason why they cannot.”
“Easier said than done if you are a male in today’s society.” A trace of bitterness clung to her words, yet she was too mentally tried to banish it completely.
“I’ll admit it is easy for a man, but that leads me to my next point: I have available coin to help you live your dreams.”
She shook her head and a tendril of wet hair dislodged itself to fall heavily about her shoulder. “Don’t you see? Then it is not me who is succeeding. It would be your investment that makes such things possible for me. I am unable to do anything on my own power.”
A sound issued from deep in his chest that rang like a growl. “What the devil difference does it make?”
“It makes all the difference!” With an exasperated cry, she took a few steps away from him. Now she was wet and cold and more conflicted. “Remove me from the equation and it’s just another business for you to run, another feather in your cap that will make your parents proud. Eventually, you’ll grow tired of funding such an endeavor and then where will I be in all of it? Tied to you with no other prospects except to play hostess and bear your children.”
“Is that so horrible then?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper and stolen by the rain before she could be certain of what she heard. “Is being my wife or the mother of my children—should we choose to have offspring—the worst that could befall you?”
So it was true. He did mean to offer for her. Heat jumped into Evangeline’s cheeks. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the worst thing, but I do not want it to be my only option. Accepting those things means handing over my freedom to you without hope of escape.”
“Why do you think so? You have nothing to indicate such about me.”
“I merely thought…” What, that he and society were one and the same? That because she’d seen the worst or what she assumed were negative traits in other men—in other unions—that he would conduct his life accordingly? Her resolve to distance herself wavered. “I mean…”
“I refuse to demand that you do anything you don’t wish to.” He took a few steps closer to her. “You were always high-spirited, Evie. I adored that about you, so much so that I feared I wouldn’t be enough for you.”
“What?” She opened and closed her mouth like a caught trout.
“It’s true.” He nodded. Rain slicked his face. Droplet clung to his eyelashes, his eyebrows, the tip of his nose and chin. “I thought perhaps you wouldn’t want a mere viscount’s second son, that perhaps you’d want a man who had substance behind him and a future before him.”
“Yes. I changed, found happiness and contentment and from the work of my own two hands. I became someone I was proud of, but you weren’t there, and my happiness wasn’t one hundred percent complete.”
“Oh, Jasper.” Hot tears stung her eyes. Hadn’t she come to that same conclusion yesterday? Without him, any joy she could render from life would be riddled with holes. “It was never about that. I wanted passion.”
“I gave you that, showed you I’ve changed.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Back then I was gripped with fear.”
“You still are, darling,” he interrupted in a dry tone.
She continued on despite the tingles that raced up her spine from the endearment. “The man you were was perfect. Just not for me at the time.”
“And now?” A glimmer of hope sprang into his stormy eyes.
“I am not sure.” It was a safe response… for the moment. Indecision and blatant need warred for dominance in her gut. “It is complicated.”
“Well, it seems we were two perfect fools back then. At least one of us continues to be.” He laughed and the sound was forced and cold. “Five years is a long time. Lets a man think upon his life’s choices.”
When he remained silent and the rain continued to fall around then, Evangeline nodded in the hopes he would continue, that he would impart some profound wisdom to her that could help make up her mind.
“I loved you then, Evie. I love you now. Perhaps even more fiercely, for I have seen the woman you’ve grown into and know there’s so much more you have to give. So much I want to see.”
She gasped at his low-brow declaration. What should she say in return? How exactly did she feel once she looked past the ever-present fear? And once she did, would she like what she saw after fighting for so long?
“Ah, silence. That is exactly what a man wishes for after he’s bared his heart.” His jaw worked and he shoved the fingers of one hand through his sopping hair. The slicked-back furrows gave him a debonair edge. Then he shrugged and there was a certain finality about the gesture. “You will continue to believe what you want regardless of what I say. You have obviously already made up your mind due to past prejudices and flawed thinking.”
“No, I—”
Jasper held up a hand, staying her protest. “Love means taking a leap of faith with another person. There are no guarantees in life or in romance. You will either make yourself happy or you won’t outside of a relationship. And, my dear, if you cannot find gladness within yourself, I certainly won’t be able to give it to you.”
Was that true? Did she not let herself find happiness because of worry? Her eyes widened as she peered at him through the rain. “It is a constant endeavor.”
“It is. I don’t want a union between us to fail in five years because you’re looking for greener pastures. If that is the case, nothing you do will ever satisfy you.” He held her gaze. Sincerity and exhaustion lined his face. “I will not keep you in golden shackles. You have my word. All I am doing, or wanted to do at dinner but you ran from me again before I could properly ask, is offer you all that I am and hope we can meet the future together, side by side.”
If her heart pounded any harder behind her ribs, it would tear clean out of her chest and probably jump into his arms. Such a traitorous organ.
He extended a hand in entreaty. “I want to celebrate every small victory with you and fight against every setback. We will work to make a life worth living, bask in the joy that we will find together.” He wiggled his fingers. “Will you trust me and let yourself break away from the fear?”
Tears fell in earnest to her cheeks. “When did you become such a wordsmith?” Drat! That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say. But old beliefs were a handy burden and couldn’t be given up so easily.
“It’s all part of the charm.” His smile was a tremulous affair. He dropped his arm back to his side. “Also, that wasn’t an answer, Evie.”
Of course it wasn’t! How could she say anything to him when she couldn’t pick through her feelings on the spot? She needed time to think about things, to weigh each option against others, to gird her loins into letting her hard-won freedom slip through her fingers.
“Again, you will overthink yourself right out of a decision.” His sigh seemed to come from his toes. “If you want independence with me, you’ll still have it. You needn’t do anything you don’t wish to. Where we live, how we spend our time, how you choose to fill your days, it’s all open to discussion. There are no set rules. But know this.” He closed the distance and placed both hands on her shoulders as he held her gaze. Water ran down his face. “I’ll make damn certain you meet your dreams, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming after them along with me. That’s how much I believe in you.”
She sniffed and gave into a shiver, whether from the cold state of her wet clothing or the conviction in his voice, she had no idea. “It all seems a fairy tale, perhaps too good to be true.”
“Don’t hand me that gammon.” Irritation sounded in his voice. He stepped away and she missed the warmth he’d briefly imparted. “Above all, don’t discount what we’ve shared, what you feel deep down in your heart because your views of independence and freedom are tied up and twisted into misshapen monsters of your own making.”
That’s exactly what she’d done over the years. Fear had taken her hopes and dreams, wadded them up and distorted those images until she couldn’t discern the monsters from the heroes any longer. It had stolen the joy she’d derided out of the journey.
How did he see so clearly into her soul?
“I…” Say something instead of standing here like an idiot! Not even the chiding of her conscience could unstick her tongue. “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t a romantic response to everything he’d laid before her.
Jasper shook his head as the light slowly faded from his eyes. “Well, I guess I have my answer.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Don’t let me keep you from your destination. Good luck to you, Miss Bradenwilde.” He flicked his gaze up and down her person. “In the circumstances, you may keep the apron. Consider it as a memento of our brief reunion.”
Frowning, she glanced down at her person to see the black Parisian-style apron she’d borrowed when she’d helped in the shop. “Oh, I…”
But he had already turned away and began walking toward the emporium.
A different sort of panic welled within her chest as she gazed at his retreating form. Never again would he offer for her. Chances were high that if they passed in the London streets, he would only acknowledge her with polite, empty greetings. How could she go through life without him in it?
Her heart stopped its beat for a full second, and in that tiny span of time she experienced a grand revelation: she loved him unequivocally and without fear. Everything else paled in comparison. All the problems that life threw at her could be tamed if he was with her. When her heart resumed its usual course, her vision—her very intent—clarified and the confusion that had clouded her mind vanished.
I cannot lose him.
“Jasper!” Had he heard her? Frantic when he continued to walk, she put one foot in front of the other, finally breaking out into a jog after him. “Jasper Winslow!”
Wonder of wonders, he turned around to face her at the door to his emporium. “Evangeline, is there something you would say to me?” One of his dark eyebrows arched, the effect blurred by the rain.
“Yes. Yes! Of course there is, you poor, daft, long-suffering man.” She closed the distance between them at a run and hurled herself into his arms with such force they both bumped against the door. “I choose you.” She dropped her carpetbag and held his head between her palms. “I choose to risk a future with you because I love you. I always have.”
Slowly, a grin spread over his face, and it was breathtaking. “It took five
years but I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses.” He tightened his arms around her.
“I’ll never live it down, will I?”
“Not for at least a little while.” His victorious tone was one of a man who had finally won a hard-fought battle.
Evangeline smiled as well. He was hers at long last. She’d merely needed to move out of her own way. “Cheeky man.” Raising up on her tiptoes, she kissed him with every ounce of need and feeling behind it. Perhaps there was something to be said for love after all. The heated, intoxicating rush banished the chill and she forgot her cold, wet state. When she broke the embrace, she said, “Shall we adjourn upstairs? I believe there was something you would ask me?”
“Now who’s the cheeky one?” When he pushed open the door, she retrieved her abandoned carpetbag, and Evangeline was quite certain her whole life was about to change.
Chapter Ten
Jasper couldn’t believe his good fortune. After all this time, Evangeline Bradenwilde would be his wife. He peered at her through the gloomy shadows and she looked back with the same goofy expression on her face that he felt on his.
“Well.” He tamped down the urge to roll his eyes at his less than intelligent comment. Not exactly erudite, and if he continued on this tract, she’d accuse him of being as tight as a boiled owl. That pulled a wider grin from him. Not drunk on liquor, just on her, on love, on the possibilities their future had in store.
“Well indeed.” She dropped her soggy carpetbag. It hit the marble with a decided plop! Her eyes sparkled, more blue than green as she removed the borrowed shop apron and let it fall to the floor at her feet. “Shouldn’t there be a bit more celebration?”
“Perhaps.” Remarkably, now that most-important moment was upon him, his hands shook and anxiety slithered through his insides. “If you’ll give me a moment to find—”
Evangeline interrupted his speech by closing the distance between them. She kissed him with more enthusiasm than finesse. Not that he minded. This was the woman he’d hoped to discover and draw out when fate had thrown them back together and she’d more or less consented to marry him. “Will it…” She nipped at his bottom lip; her breath warmed his cheek. “…take very much time?” The tentative sweep of the tip of her tongue along the seam of his lips sent electric-like pulses up and down his spine. “I find I’m not inclined to linger in the shop.” Then her fingers were at the buttons on his jacket as she steadily worked each one from their holes.