All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  “What is the matter, Eden?”

  “You should not address me so familiarly, my lord.”

  “I have addressed you that way in my mind countless times.” He closed the distance between them once more and reached out for her hands. “You once called me Francis.”

  “That was a long time ago. Things changed after that day. You should have told me you were married. I would never have acted so rashly.” The reproach was clear in her voice as she tried to withdraw her hands, and his brow puckered in confusion at her change from all that was warmth to this chilly shell.

  “Were you angry with me?”

  “Surprisingly, no,” she answered after a moment’s reflection. “I never thought of that moment with anger, just upset. Why didn’t you say something that night in the garden?”

  “I’d forgotten.”

  “You had forgotten you were married?”

  “In a sense, I did.” He reached again for her hands but she folded them tightly before her. With a sigh, he rested his hands on the balustrade. “I had already been married for seven years when we met, Eden. I wed when I was just a lad of eighteen. My father was ill, dying, and wanted to make sure our, and I mean the earldom’s, future was secure before he passed. My relationship with my wife left much to be desired and, by that time, we lived largely apart. So, aye, occasionally I forgot I was married.” He reached up and caressed her cheek, pleased that she didn’t pull away, enjoying the blush that followed his touch. “And when you came along and took my breath away as you did, I could think of nothing else.”

  “I took your breath away?” she sighed wistfully, leaning unconsciously into his hand, overwhelmed by his presence and his confession. The light caress of his fingers sent shivers of longing down her spine.

  “Sweet Paradise,” he whispered, roughly cupping her face in both hands, “you still do. When I saw you tonight, it was as though the years had fallen away, as if we were back in my grandmother’s garden. The magic…the way you stir me…” His whispered words melted into feather-light kisses on her forehead and cheeks that had her head spinning.

  Eve fought to retain her composure though her willpower faltered at his proximity, and pleasure at his words left her trembling. Was she going mad? She was allowing a gentleman to nearly kiss her in the presence of others. She wasn’t a young girl any longer to act so foolishly. Her heart quivered, wavering between desire and control.

  The control won, and her voice once again regained its polite tone as she managed to draw away. “And you, my lord? What happened in your life since we met?”

  Francis shifted, uncomfortably reluctant to bring up his scandalous past. “Why, I mourned the loss of one sweet but sassy lass whom I had met so long ago.” Gently he stroked her cheek once more and gazed down into the eyes that had lingered in his mind for the past many years. “Where has she gone, Eden? You are here in front of me, but the lass who was so full of vinegar seems to be missing.”

  “That was a long time ago, my lord.” That lass was inside her, banging on the door to be released from the prison of manners and form in which William had locked her. She wanted to beg for his help, to show him that she was still there, but only whispered hollowly, “People grow up. They change.”

  “I think she is in there,” he murmured into her ear. “And no more ‘my lords,’ please. I long to hear my name from your lips just as you said it not an hour past. Say my name, Eden, say it.”

  Eve savored the feel of his thumbs as they caressed her cheeks. Desire flowed through her just as it had before. To say aloud that which she hadn’t dared in years. “Francis,” the name came out with a fluttering sigh. “Oh, Francis…”

  “Ah, you still feel it, too, don’t you?” his lips brushed her temple as he breathed in the scent of her.

  “My lord, it is a powerful thing,” she admitted, not entirely certain if that my lord referred to him or a mightier power above. She cleared her throat and took a step back, trying to distance herself from him. She had to stop this. Apparently if her guard slipped for even a moment, she fell into his arms like the veriest street walker. Like a silly child. Where was her cloak of propriety now? “And are you widowed now as well?”

  “Nay, but—”

  Reality splashed upon Eve, bringing her to her senses. She jerked back from him, realizing the implications of what he was saying. Was he trying again, as he had years before, to lure her into an affair, a liaison that held no respect? “No? As in no, you are not widowed?”

  “Nay, Eden, it is not what you think—”

  Without a second’s consideration, her hand shot out, and she slapped him across the face.

  They stared at each other in stunned silence. Her body vibrated with anger and humiliation and shock at her audaciousness. But how dare he? How dare he do this to her again! He was a married man! How dare he play on her feelings like this?

  “Married? Still? And this is how you act?”

  “I’m not, Eden—” he started to explain, but she cut him off.

  “I guess since I am no longer a young debutante, you see no problems with acting as you did eight years ago? Now that I am a widow, it is alright?” Emotion rolled through her and spilled through her social mask. Her eyes were aflame with anger and hurt.

  “I would never treat you so, Eden. I realize it is nonsensical to you, but you were my single ray of sunlight these past years,” he retorted. Watching her anger slip away to confusion, he held out a hand. “If you would allow me to explain, I will. While I am not a widower, I am divorced from my former wife.”

  “I am a respectable woman, not a…” She floundered to a halt as his words sank in. “What?”

  “I am not a married man any longer,” he clarified. If his cheek hadn’t burned with the strength of her blow, Francis might have felt the urge to laugh at the purely confounded expression on her face. “I am saying that you needn’t think so ill of me, Eden. I might be awash with scandal, but I’m not the rogue you apparently think me. I’m a single man.”

  Eve’s mind blanked. “Oh.” A replay of the last few moments flashed through her mind, and she stepped back in horror, covering her mouth with both hands. She’d struck an earl in public as if he were a cad, an adulterer, when he was naught but innocent of her accusations. Reaching up, she caressed the cheek that she had injured. “Oh, Francis. I am so sorry. I don’t have any idea what has come over me this evening. It’s not like me to react with such emotion. To act without thought. To feel so—”

  “Ahem.” The sound of a throat being cleared jerked them apart. His brother, James, stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Could I speak with you a moment, brother?”

  “Not now, Jamie,” Francis ground out, taking Eve’s hand in his own and drawing her closer to his side.

  “I should think now is a perfect time,” he drawled in return. “Especially if you plan to rain a scandal on the head of dear Lady Shaftesbury. Just being seen with you…”

  Suddenly, Eve was able to focus again on the faces around her. Though others on the terrace were far enough away that her words to Francis could not be overheard, they were the center of attention. Given the way some were whispering behind their hands, they were also the subject of their conversations. The scene they were creating. Cozied together one moment, her striking him the next.

  What would William have done if he could have seen her behave this way? Probably locked her in the cellar again or delivered one of the other punishments he employed to keep her ‘in line.’ Appalled to have them all staring at her, humiliation and horror tore through her.

  Drawing her most icy demeanor around her like a cloak, Eve disappeared, and the countess took her place with the most reserved and restrained manner. “Gentlemen, I believe the excitement of the evening has taken its toll. Please excuse me. I believe I will retire.”

  Head high, she swept through the doors and across the ballroom, nodding coolly as she passed through, not stopping along the way.

  James s
topped Francis with a hand as he started to follow her.

  “What are you doing, Francis?”

  “I was just—” He shook his head. Indeed, he really had no idea what he was doing.

  Eve was correct. She was a respectable woman, yet he assumed that, just because of their attraction, she should flout convention and allow a public romance between them? Scandal over his divorce was still thick in Society. Any woman to whom he paid marked attention would become attached in association. Though she might be unaware, his brothers all knew that it would take a residence upon hell’s frozen plains before he would take another wife. All he was prepared to offer any woman was the role of lover and protector. Clearly, Eve was not a woman to accept the role of mistress. But he could not deny their attraction either. It was terrible to think that the only positive moments of his marriage were with a woman other than his wife, but it was true.

  The buoyancy his heart had taken on again in just the past hour was unlike anything he’d felt since he had met his Eden all those years before. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she gave him hope. Aye, hope that life might be worth rejoining again. Hope of happier days.

  When he remained silent, James spoke. “While it is good to see you taking an interest in the ladies again, brother, I don’t believe that Lady Shaftesbury is the step you should be considering.” They watched the widow wend her way through the crowd and out of sight. “Don’t get me wrong, old man. I am all for pursuing a merry widow for sport myself, but Lady Shaftesbury is not that type. You just met her, so I want to make you aware. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know her these past several weeks. Most of us have. I assure you, she is as respectable a woman as I have ever known and one of Abby’s dearest friends. Plus, I rather like her, so stay away from her.”

  “I am afraid that may be a problem.”

  Francis glanced toward the door again. The yearning to follow was strong. His brothers did not know that Evelyn had disturbed his dreams for years. That he knew her soul, if not her body. In those moments with her, it was as if every lesson that marriage had taught him about women fell away. There was no bitterness. There was no anger or mistrust. There was only a place unlike any other. There was just his Eden, his Paradise.

  How he had been fooling himself that morning when Abby had chastised him. He’d always known that there was an exception to his views on womanhood. Not just Abby herself, but Eden. How could he have forgotten? Shaking his head, he left the ball through the garden.

  He realized with a laugh that Abby might win her wager after all.

  * * *

  Once out of sight of the ballroom and any of the guests, Eve fled up the stairs, determined to reach her rooms before emotion overcame her. Alas, it was not to be. In her haste, she came up behind Richard and Abby who were also making their way to their rooms.

  Abby took one look at her face and stopped. “Why, Evie, whatever is the matter?”

  Instantly, Eve pulled back and plastered her most polite smile on her face. “It’s merely been a trying time these past weeks. I thought I might just retire early to—”

  “Alright, my friend, give over and tell me what is going on.” Abygail gave her husband a significant look and, with a shrug, he took himself off. “Out with it now. I’ve heard nothing from you since I came down to England except this polite chit-chat of yours.”

  “I’m uncertain what you mean,” Eve said evasively, refusing to meet Abby’s eyes.

  “Uncertain?” Abby returned with raised brows. “Uncertain? I’ve never heard you talk like this. We are friends. Aren’t we?”

  “Of course, we are.”

  “Didn’t the four of us stay up nights at Folkestone under the covers whispering our deepest secrets to one another?”

  “We did. I apologize. It has simply been a most trying day.”

  “Trying day? Again with that?” Abby repeated with raised brows and pointed to Eve’s bedchamber door. “In there, right now. I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Abby, I don’t—” Eve protested weakly.

  “Now!” she repeated with a stomp of her foot.

  Defeated by the force of Abby’s will, Eve led the way into her rooms and to a pair of chairs set before the fire. Easing herself down into one, she stared into the fire while her friend took the other. “Evelyn Preston, look at me.”

  Eve forced herself to meet Abby’s eyes when, to her horror, her own eyes welled with tears and her chin wobbled.

  Abby was instantly all sympathy as she pulled Eve into her arms. “Oh, Evie! What is it? I’d forgotten this was the anniversary of when you learned of Shaftesbury’s death. Do you mourn him so much?”

  Swallowing a watery chuckle that became a sob, Evelyn slid to the floor and lay her head down on Abby’s lap as Abby stroked her hair and rocked her much like she did her own child. Overcome by emotion, she finally let the tears fall freely. When the flow seemed to stem at last, Abby commanded in her soft voice, “Tell me.”

  “It was not at all what I had imagined, do you know that? When we married, I had such hopes during our first year of marriage. I thought what a marvelous couple we would be. What wonderful conversations we would have! What grand places we would see together.

  “But we were not a couple. ‘We’ were Shaftesbury and his favorite possession. It was horrible being his puppet. Being the perfect countess, the perfect hostess. Being controlled by force—”

  “Evie,” Abby exclaimed. “Never say he beat you.”

  “Not beaten,” she denied, “but beaten down, nonetheless. But strangely, I was never afraid. Just locked into a life from which I had no avenue of escape. He molded me into the image he wanted.”

  Evelyn closed her eyes again as the longing for freedom rolled through her. “I am trapped, William,” she had told him that day before he left. “Alone. I have nothing here. With you.”

  “He actually offered to buy me a pet to make my misery more palatable,” she confessed with a watery chuckle. “As if that would make everything better. He never understood that I could not live with being controlled and owned. Or he never cared. I believe that was actually the case.”

  Abby stroked her hair. “You poor girl. We all assumed you were so happy. I never thought he might treat you so badly.”

  “I told him that last day that I wanted out, that I wanted a divorce and that Da had agreed to support me in obtaining it,” Eve admitted it aloud as she had not dared to tell another. Not even Kitty.

  “Well, good for you then. What did he say?”

  “He said no, of course.” Eve shrugged, emitting a shaky sigh as she moved to return to her own chair. “He said he controlled me, that it was his right under the law of the Queen and my country as well. What I wanted had no bearing.”

  “The devil, you say,” Abby cried, appalled that any man would dare to make such a statement. This was the nineteenth century after all, not the middle ages. “The nerve of the man!”

  “You know, I think that was the first time I had ever seen him angry. Even when he would mete out his ‘punishments’ it was always without anger. He was always so stoic, so cold. In that moment, I think I hated him most,” Eve confessed. “And for a moment I wished he were dead. And then he was.”

  “Well now you are free to do as you wish,” Abby started, but stopped when Eve shook her head.

  “But I can’t, Abby.” The confessions continued to flow with appalling truthfulness. “I want to, so very much. But I am nothing of myself any longer, only what he has made me. I have tried and tried to find myself, to be myself again, but, well, you saw it. You noticed in less than five minutes, months ago. I know you did! This is what I am now.”

  “You are not lost,” her friend insisted. “Look at you right now. You are in there. You will find your way.”

  “You are one of my dearest friends and still, even with you, it is hard to overcome.” Eve took a deep, shaky breath. “Deep inside, I am afraid I will never find my way back to the person I was. Even tonight.” She
swallowed the lump that formed in her throat.

  “It is difficult, I’m sure to start up in Society again—”

  “No, it’s not that. I mean, it is, but it isn’t.” Eve gulped again, struggling to find a way to explain. “Francis—”

  “I swear to you, I have never seen the earl act the rogue as he did tonight. And I will have words with him, I assure you, about starting thus with one of my dearest friends.”

  Evelyn marveled that this tiny woman could project a severity that could actually intimidate a person to their core. She had often been likened to an angel in appearance, yet she could shake you to your soul with a single look. It made Eve fear for Francis. “I’ve met him before, Abby.”

  Taken aback, Abby’s face folded into confusion. “But when? How is that possible? Why, Francis hasn’t even left Scotland in years. Not since Fiona made him—”

  “Take her to visit Lady Hyde in London,” Eve finished with a nod. “I met him just before I was betrothed to William.”

  “He’s the one? The one that you wrote to me about?” Abby whispered, awed by the twists and turns of fate. Eve nodded. “But, Evie, this is wonderful! Isn’t it? You can begin again. You’re a widow, and Francis is free now as well!”

  A flare of warmth shot through Eve’s heart before it fizzled away, and she shook her head. “I-I can’t, Abby. I’m not the same person. Once he knows that, he will be disappointed in me.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Besides, I could never have an affair.” She shuddered, thinking of the repercussions of crossing such a boundary. “And I would never want to marry again, not after the hell I knew of marriage.”

  Neither would Francis, Abby conceded to herself. But the thought took root, But what if they did? What if this was their second chance at happiness? This is what she had felt coming even months before when she had wagered fifty pounds on Francis and her brother both, that they would fall to a woman. Perhaps there was a chance. “Why not just see what happens?” she suggested, holding up a hand to stem Eve’s protest. “The decision is yours, of course, but what is the harm in spending time in his company? There was a moment downstairs when both of you looked happier than I can ever remember. Did you know that? Everyone saw it. No, not in a scandalous way. I saw two people who had suffered much and finally found joy in one another. I was glad for you in that moment, and I know that Francis’ family felt the same. Enjoy one another, Eve. Yes? And perhaps you will see the old you peeking out from time to time.”