Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  “But what good can it……?”

  “Just tell me. I shall not leave this place until you do. I must know, Evelyn.” Gabriel did not know what he would do with the information once he had learned it, but he was compelled by something deep inside to pursue the matter.

  “Eleanora Cunningham.”

  “Why am I not surprised? She is as vile as that mother of hers. They are as twin demons sent to earth by the Devil himself.” Gabriel almost spat the words.

  “You shall have no argument from me.” Evelyn said, and stared straight into his eyes.

  Once again, Gabriel found himself lost in the bright blue depths, almost as if he had been taken prisoner. For a moment he could hardly think of what to say.

  “And tell me, what threat was made to you?”

  “Eleanora told me that if I ever spoke to you again, she would tell the Duchess.”

  “Indeed? So the Duchess is not yet involved?”

  “No, and nor do I want her to be,” Evelyn said and shuddered. “For Eleanora led me to believe that they will come up with some scheme or scandal that would shame my family and I so badly that I shall never find a suitable husband anywhere in England. Oh, and I believe her. She seemed almost to delight in my fear of it all. And I do not doubt her mother capable of the thing.”

  “No, Prudence Cunningham has ice running through her veins; she is a bloodless creature.”

  “And so I am sure you can see why it is I can never happen upon you again.” Evelyn stopped for a moment, then looked at him squarely in the eye before continuing. “I know that you and my cousin contrived our meeting at Harbury Hall. Stuart never invites me for tea. He is famously lazy in such things.”

  “But…”

  “No, Sir, I beg you would hear me.” She held up a soft, milk-white hand to stay his voice. “And it was only after I recognized the fact that I realized that my invitation to Amelia Merriweather’s home was likely contrived on the same grounds. You wished very specifically to meet me, Sir.”

  “Yes, I did.” Gabriel said and wished in that moment that he had never sought her out as a means of fulfilling his plan. He should have seen her for the intelligent beauty she was and pursued her for her own sake.

  “And I suspect I know why, Sir.”

  “Perhaps, initially I……”

  “And I shall not be used so cruelly. Not by you or by the Cunninghams. I am a human, Sir, and find myself dismayed by all the lies and the hate. I am not a part of this battle, either for you or for Richard Cunningham. I would wish myself a thousand miles away if I had but the means to get there.”

  “Please believe me when I tell you…..”

  “Please, Sir, I would beg you do not tell me anything further. I found myself rather liking you and the sudden realization that I am no more to you than I am to my fiancé has come as something rather painful to me.”

  “But I grew to hold you in high regard, Evelyn. Please, do not let things end in this way.”

  “There is nothing to end, Sir. After all, as far as the world is concerned, we simply met by chance at the Merriweather home. Nobody knows of our meeting at my cousin’s home, nor shall they. There is nothing to end between us, Sir, for there is nothing between us.” Evelyn expertly turned her horse whilst avoiding the low hanging branches. “And now I shall leave you. I have told you everything as you requested, and hope that you can see what harm you would do me and my family in disregarding my wishes. You have already used me very ill, Sir, and I beg you would not do that again.” And with that, Evelyn heeled her horse away to gently regain the unfettered path.

  Every fiber of Gabriel’s being was urging him to follow her. And yet his head told him that she would not welcome it; rather it would push them further apart.

  As he rode away in the opposite direction, Gabriel wondered how it was he had come to such a dilemma. How had he fallen in love with Evelyn Godfrey at all, let alone so quickly?

  One thing was for certain; there was no way on earth he would allow the marriage of Evelyn Godfrey and Richard Cunningham to come to pass. He knew not how he would stop it all, only that he would. Gabriel Farrington was quite determined, and he was not a man who was used to his determination coming to naught.

  Chapter 8

  “I think we’ll have this fabric for the wedding gown.” Prudence Cunningham said, waving a small piece of heavily embroidered lace in front of Lady Gorton.

  Evelyn almost groaned out loud to hear her mother capitulate to the overbearing woman once more, as she nodded and smiled and exclaimed over the beauty of the fabric.

  “Oh yes, Duchess, what a marvelous choice.” Lady Gorton said, in her most simpering tones.

  Whilst Evelyn had never been particularly keen of her parents’ choice of suitor for her, she had always rather gone along with things, thinking that she owed her family greatly for the life they had given her. And yet, as she listened to her mother bowing and scraping to the terrifying Duchess, she wondered why it was her parents would so happily sacrifice her to a family they themselves were afraid of. Did she really mean so little to them? They would sell her off to keep the Gorton Earldom going, the only consequences being suffered by Evelyn herself.

  For the first time in her life, Evelyn felt utterly rebellious. If only she had some means of securing her own future, she would kick dirt in their faces and walk away from all of them. Her parents, the Cunninghams, and Gabriel.

  At the thought of Gabriel, Evelyn had a most curious feeling in the pit of her stomach. She knew that she had liked him from the very first, and not just because he was so unusually handsome. There had been something about him, a directness of manner which Evelyn had entirely appreciated.

  Moreover, he had seemed genuinely interested in her opinions, and that was something that Evelyn had never found outside her small circle of female friends. And, of course, Evelyn knew that circle would grow ever smaller once she was under the complete control of the Cunningham family.

  As Evelyn imagined her every move being watched and controlled by Eleanora and the Duchess, she was assailed by an image of herself laughing and smiling in the drawing room of Amelia Merriweather. Eleanora’s interference meant, of course, that Evelyn would never be able to go there again. Her world was getting smaller and smaller and she was not yet married.

  “I believe you are related somehow to the Earl of Harbury.” Eleanor looked up from the endless swatches of fabric. The only person with little or no stake in the fabric of this wedding dress seemed to be the bride herself.

  “Yes. Stuart Penhaligon is my second cousin Eleanor.” Evelyn said without any feeling at all. She and Eleanor had not been in one another’s company since Eleanor had gripped her arm in the grounds of Horndean Hall.

  Evelyn subconsciously rubbed at her arm and noted the fading bruise was still sore to touch.

  “Tell me, do you see much of him?” Eleanor went on.

  Evelyn wondered just how far Eleanor might take this conversation in front of their respective mothers. Her mouth went suddenly dry and every breath felt raw and painful.

  “Now and again. We are not terribly close. Why?” Evelyn had dreaded asking the question but knew she must.

  “I thought I really out to make you aware that Lord Harbury is a very close friend of Gabriel Farrington. I have only just discovered it myself, and would have made you aware far sooner had I known.”

  “Indeed?” Evelyn said, feigning ignorance.

  “Of course you know of the long-running discord between our family and the Farringtons. Well, since you are about to become a part of our family……” Eleanor let the sentence trail away and hang in the air.

  “Oh, I see!” Lady Gorton finally broke in, keen to bow down to the Cunninghams once more. “But of course the tie shall be broken. It is a very loose sort of a tie as it is.”

  “Oh, that is good of you, Lady Gorton.” Eleanora smiled and Evelyn thought her mean, thin lips and bared teeth made her look like a wolf.

  “Mama is that not
something Papa should decide? After all, they are his relations, are they not? His flesh and blood. Stuart’s father is Papa’s cousin.” Evelyn saw the look that Prudence Cunningham gave her and felt suddenly afraid.

  “I think I can speak for your Father on this occasion, dear.” Lady Gorton said in a tone which suggested her daughter should be quiet.

  “Very well.” Evelyn said in as cheerful and nonchalant a tone as she could muster.

  In truth, she felt like she was suddenly withering; dying on the inside. She was to be isolated from everyone she knew and everyone who cared about her. Her only hope for any ally at Horndean Hall was the Cunningham’s youngest daughter, Cordelia. She seemed so very different from the rest; softer somehow. However, she was little included and seldom listened to. Perhaps Cordelia could never help her at all.

  Of course, she would still see her own parents, but Evelyn was no longer sure she could truly count them among the small list of people who cared for her. Gabriel Farrington likely cared more!

  Once again Evelyn thought of him. She had been attracted immediately in a way she would never be attracted to the pale and deeply uninteresting Richard Cunningham. But still, when she had realized Gabriel’s intention towards her, she had felt once more like a leaf blowing in the wind of another’s plan, almost as if that was all she would ever be.

  And yet, when she had confronted Gabriel with the truth, he had not sought to deny it. Instead, he solemnly admitted his part in luring her to Amelia Merriweather’s home, and then Stuart Penhaligon’s.

  Evelyn had cut him short before allowing him to continue to tell her that, whilst his initial intention had been less than admirable, he had found his regard for her growing. She had simply been too angry to listen to him and afraid of more lies.

  But what if he had meant it? What if his regard for her had grown as her own had done for him? Evelyn had liked him immediately. He was amusing and interesting and, more importantly, interested. Gabriel Farrington was everything that Richard Cunningham was not. The only trait in which they seemed to be evenly matched was their casual use of others in pursuit of victory in a thirty-year-old feud.

  But was Gabriel really so very intent? He had seemed genuinely concerned for her as they picked their way through the thick bracken and branches. And he looked so angry when she told him of the threat that Eleanora had issued. But had his anger been on Evelyn’s account, or was it simply another blow from one family to another?

  If only Evelyn knew the answer to that, for if all was known, Gabriel Farrington might well be the answer to her prayers. He might well be the only man who could save her from a lifetime spent as a prisoner within the walls of Horndean Hall.

  “How wonderful to have the whole thing settled.” Prudence’s nasally whine broke through Evelyn’s thoughts. “I remember when I joined the Cunningham family. It was such a great honor to become a part of the most powerful family in the North of England. I myself had to sacrifice many of those who had formerly been in my acquaintance, but I do not regret it for a moment. I became a part of something much bigger, you see, and that was more important than anything that had gone before in my life.” The Duchess leaned heavily in Evelyn’s direction and gave a smile that she likely thought was warm when, in fact, it was simply garish.

  If Evelyn needed any more proof that her married life would be controlled, and her former friends and some of her family banished entirely, now she had it. She had it straight from the lips of the person whom Evelyn began to see as the real power behind the Cunninghams.

  As much as Cornelius was the Duke, Prudence was clearly the more devious of the two and Evelyn thought it very likely that the woman had not one shred of human feeling in that stone heart of hers.

  Once again, Evelyn smiled without speaking and silently wondered how to extricate herself from the promise her thoughtless parents had made.

  Chapter 9

  Evelyn had written a hasty letter to Stuart Penhaligon the moment she and her mother returned to Gorton Hall from their visit to the Cunninghams.

  There had been something so awful about being in Horndean that had made Evelyn truly relieved to be in her own home once more.

  She had taken to her room immediately after an almost silent carriage ride home with her mother. Evelyn knew that, even as she lay upon her bed, her mother would be telling her father of the friendship between Stuart Penhaligon and the Duke of Calgarth. Of course, the Earl of Gorton would be easily persuaded to sacrifice a family tie to ensure the money he had been promised for what Evelyn had now come to think of as the sale of his only daughter.

  As tears of anger and fear rolled down her face, Evelyn had decided to take matters into her own hands. As much as Stuart had helped his friend in his attempts to meet with her, Evelyn knew him to be kind and certainly honest enough to tell her the truth if she asked for it.

  Rising quickly from her bed, she had scribbled a letter to Stuart asking him if she could attend Harbury Hall the next afternoon for tea. She expressed the urgency of the meeting and her fervent wish that he would agree to see her.

  Evelyn knew that she must maintain a happy countenance in the company of her parents, otherwise they might suspect her ill feeling and curtail what little freedom she had left. If she were to be allowed to make her way out of the house the next day on horseback, claiming to be setting off on one of her customary rides out, Evelyn would have to play the role her parents had always forced upon her. The role of happy, dutiful daughter.

  Sneaking into the servant’s quarters, Evelyn found her trusty lady’s maid, Alice, and begged that she would take the message to Harbury Hall, wait for a reply, and tell no one of her actions. Alice agreed immediately, asking no questions, and making no argument.

  Before afternoon tea had been served, Evelyn had her answer. Stuart had agreed to their afternoon meeting and looked forward to seeing her.

  With a plan beginning to form in her mind, Evelyn felt a little better. She was even able to make light and inconsequential conversation with her parents over dinner, seeming every bit the excited bride-to-be.

  But Evelyn was anything but. Evelyn was no longer going to be a pawn in everybody else’s game. Evelyn was going to make a game of her own. Evelyn was going to look at life and see which option suited her best, and care little for the thoughts and feelings of others as she herself had experienced.

  When the time came for her to make her way to Harbury Hall the following afternoon, Evelyn had been so bright and cheerful that she had lulled her parents into a false sense that all was well. Not for one moment had they suspected that their daughter’s plan to ride out for the afternoon was nothing more than a way of her making a plan to thwart their attempts to live a comfortable life on the back of the suffering of their only daughter.

  Although she knew she would be returning home from Harbury Hall, something about the ride over there felt like freedom. Evelyn felt her hair coming free at the back and flowing loosely about her shoulders as she heeled her horse into a canter across the beautiful, windswept and rugged countryside. By the time she arrived at Harbury Hall, as immaculately dressed as she was in a midnight blue gown and matching cape, Evelyn knew that her countenance declared her a wild thing, and she cared not to change it.

  “I say, Evelyn, did you run all the way here?” Stuart said when his butler led her into the rather dark and masculine drawing room.

  As always, Stuart’s smile was bright and welcoming. However, his eyes spoke of concern, and perhaps even a little guilt.

  “I did not run here, cousin, but I had an energy about me that would have allowed me to do so had I so wished.” Evelyn said, rather forcefully.

  “Well, do come in. Tea will be with us at any moment.” Stuart said, a little awkwardly.

  “Good, I should very much like a cup of tea.” Evelyn said, and removed her bonnet and re-fastened her hair.

  She was determined to wait in silence until tea arrived and she and Stuart could be left alone to talk in complete privacy. E
velyn chose not to make small talk, rather wanting to upend Stuart little, even make his nerves jangle somewhat. Even if he did care for her, he did not deserve to get away scot free with his secret meddling in her life. Realizing that Stuart entirely perceived her annoyance gave Evelyn a small amount of satisfaction.

  “So, do tell me what is so urgent, my dear Evelyn.” Stuart said the moment the maid bearing the tea tray had departed.

  “I have some questions to ask you, Stuart, and I expect you to answer me truthfully.”

  “That suggest that I am not always truthful with you, Evelyn.”

  “And are you telling me that you have been?” Evelyn said, and fixed him with a glare.

  In that moment, she could clearly read on his face that he knew exactly to what she was referring.

  “No, Evelyn, I have not been entirely truthful. And yet I do not think I have acted so terribly, my dear.”