Chapter Thirty
Evie was tired. Lifting a teacup was an effort and bringing a fork to her mouth more than a few times in a meal felt Herculean.
She wanted to sleep, because when awake she daydreamed of Xander.
Their debates about a particular bill, their playful flirting when she was working and he was supposed to be, their late night explorations in his bed.
Sleep wasn’t much better, though. He overtook her dreams so when she woke tears stained her cheeks.
Her thoughts circled with wild ideas to beg his forgiveness again.
Tempted to offer him a year more of maid service, she imagined the sexy mischief they could get up to in his library every day.
However, part of her sorrow was that he couldn’t see her good intentions.
He’d had more respect for her as a maid than he did for her as a lady. Yet she was indeed a lady.
Her goal all along was to see if he would be a suitable husband. Now she knew—she wanted that marriage contract if he could show Lady Evelyn the respect he’d shown the mob-capped Evie.
She’d even live without love. Love had never been something she’d aspired to in a marriage, and she needn’t start now. Having someone who shared her life views and would raise their children with similar beliefs was the most important thing.
Mmm…children. We’ll need lots of practice to ensure he has heirs.
Sighing at her wayward thoughts, Evie punched the pillow and rolled over on the chaise longue, nearly falling off.
She did not care that it was the middle of the afternoon and she was supposed to be visiting or sewing or doing some charitable deed. She was tired.
Her mother bustled into her room followed by her maid. “Let’s see what she— Evie, are you all right, child?”
Mama perched on the edge of the chaise with a hand to Evie’s forehead.
“Mama, I’m not sick. Just tired.” Too late, she wondered if she should have pleaded a health issue. Was that other ball her parents had been discussing tonight or tomorrow?
“Oh good. Rest for another hour. But after that you must rise and ready yourself for the ball.”
“Can you not go without me? Just to this one. Please, Mama.”
“No, I won’t hear of it. You need to be there. If the Duke of Rutland dissolves the betrothal, everyone needs to see ’twas his fault not yours, that you are not lacking in any way.”
“Mama, if the Duke of Rutland dissolves the betrothal, I don’t care if anyone else thinks I’m lacking. Only his opinion counts.”
“Hush. You cannot think like that. If he doesn’t want you, then he is lacking. You deserve better than a man who cannot forgive. It means that there’s a better choice out there for you.”
Evie whined, “But I don’t want a better choice. I want him.” She was being dramatic but couldn’t help how she felt. Society had grown tiresome. Xander had taught her there were more important things in life.
“Well, what if he attends tonight? He’s in Town, and I have it on good authority that he’s been invited.”
Evie blinked, then sat up. “Do I have time for a bath?”
Her mother turned to the maid to order a bath, not realizing Evie could see her satisfied smirk in the mirror over her dresser.
She didn’t care if her mother was manipulating her. The temptation of being in his presence once more was too much to resist. Aunt Lou had said that the best way to win him back was in person.
Besides, she’d avoided him at the previous event, so this might be the last time her eyes could feast on him.
Perhaps she could finagle introducing him to more Whigs.
If only she could do that on his arm as his betrothed.
Or else she’d watch him from a balcony and pine silently.
She’d take what she could get, despite knowing it would drive a stake through her heart all over again.
* * * *
Despite having fewer attendees, the ball was a crush due to the host’s home being smaller.
Sitting in the line of coaches spewing partygoers one by one, she snickered thinking what Xander would say about such a fête.
Likely it would be something about whether the host attempted to navigate the overheated, smelly ballroom to actually speak to all of his guests.
Unsure what she’d do if he attended, she also worried whether he’d ignore her.
Her mother would become apoplectic if she perceived a public snub, but Evie was more concerned that such an action would indicate a permanent severing of their relationship.
She needed that last shard of hope to cling to.
After being handed out of the carriage by her father, they entered and made their way to the ballroom. As they stood in the doorway, Xander’s close-cropped head drew her gaze like a beacon.
The announcement of their names was lost in the melee, yet he whipped around and stared. His lips moved, making his excuses, because in the next moment he was striding through the crowd toward her, parting them as easily if they were blades of grass.
Reaching her and her parents, he bowed in turn and asked, “Evie, might I have a word?”
Her brows twitched, and she looked around them. “Here? Now?”
“Er, sort of.”
“Go take a stroll around the ballroom, my dear,” her mother encouraged, ignoring the fact that two people could not promenade through the crowd.
Her father shot both of them a warning look but said nothing. Instead, he raised a hand to someone over Xander’s shoulder and murmured to his wife to excuse him.
Xander proffered his arm, and Evie placed her hand on it, hoping he had a plan. She smothered a grin when he angled his outer shoulder in front of them and led her through the crowd toward the French doors that opened to a veranda. Here was yet another reason to appreciate this man’s physique.
As he stepped through them, Evie balked, not wanting to risk her reputation if he was going to end things between them.
She planted her feet, tugged on his sleeve, and whispered, “What do you want with me, Xander? If you still plan to break the betrothal, the last thing you want is to be caught alone with me.”
“I understand, Evie. If you’re more comfortable, we can stay here at the railing, in sight of the ballroom. There are others out here, serving as chaperone.”
Her nerves had come to the forefront, however, and she couldn’t wait any longer. “Just tell me what you want, please.”
“I want…,” he swallowed and took a breath. “To accept your apology and offer one of my own.”
Her brows climbed her forehead. This was unexpected—pleasantly so, but she was unprepared. She stared at him, speechless and expectant. If he thought those words were enough, he was sorely mistaken.
Turning to face her, he took her hands in his. “I was hurt. My feelings, my pride, all of it. I had bared my soul to you, and suddenly, you were a stranger. Worse, a titled stranger. So I lashed out rather than listen to what you were telling me.”
He appeared contrite, his eyes pleading and his brows drawn up. But she still hadn’t heard a clear apology, just reasons. He might have reasons again in a week, a month, a year, and who knows what he’d do then. She stared at him, remaining silent.
He glanced down at their joined hands, then up again. Sighed. Shifted.
He might be nervous, but she needed more.
“I did not comprehend your situation. Nor, I confess, did I attempt to. My family and friends here have helped me gain that understanding. Apparently, Luke’s wife is not the only one who was previously a courtesan.”
Evie blinked twice. Had he just compared her to a courtesan? She took a breath to speak.
“Blazes.” Xander’s eyes were wide. At least he seemed to recognize his faux pas. “Ah, I refer to that to demonstrate my new appreciation for the lengths women have to go to pursue some level of autonomy in this world.”
“Right.” She narrowed her eyes. “That covers your acceptance of my apology.”
“Yes…”
“I’ve yet to hear yours, though.” She raised her brows.
“Right, right. I was getting there.” He shuffled his feet again.
“I know ’tis presumptuous of me after my reaction, but I ask for your empathy regarding my reaction.
I had told you my experiences with titled nobs.
That colored my reaction to your, er, error in judgment in waiting so long to tell me who you were. ”
Her thoughts raced as Xander spun out his apology. It was a decent apology, as they went. However, there was no guarantee he’d truly learned from it. Would he be mean and run away and only come back if friends set him straight in the future?
She supposed that even if he'd said he’d learned his lesson, one never knew until the next time. At least he was here, talking to her. And he couldn’t run off quite so easily if they were married.
She almost chuckled when he’d called her lie of omission an error in judgment. She owed his friends—or more likely their wives—a debt of gratitude for that reshaping. But the subject was too serious to let it go with a laugh at a phrase.
When he wound down, she realized she’d been waiting for a declaration of love, mirroring hers. It was obvious he cared for her and that he was a caretaker of everyone around him. And it wasn’t fair to expect him to feel the same; she’d simply hoped.
Trying to formulate a reply, she squeezed his hands.
He squeezed back and began speaking again. “I visited with my solicitor. The Earl of Cheltenham helped—”
Evie gasped, distracted by that tidbit. “You know the Earl of Cheltenham well enough to get favors from him? How did you manage that?”
“You’ve heard of him? His reputation is more illustrious than I realized.
” He squinted for a moment. “As I remember it, Luke’s wife is best friends with one of his closest friends.
Anyway, he helped rearrange my finances.
You should know that I’m giving half ownership of a large portion of my properties to the people who run them.
And I may sell a few of the country homes. ”
She was agog. This was caretaking to a whole new level.
“Xander, I assume if Lord Cheltenham looked at your investments, you can do this without harm to your own standard of living and those in your employ. This is amazing. Beyond amazing. And generous. And-and I can’t think of adjectives right now, I’m so surprised. ”
“You’re not concerned? Or…angry?” He peered at her as though trying to read her sincerity in the dim lighting of the veranda.
“Why on earth would I be angry?”
“If you accept the marriage contract with me, it would affect you.”
Oh. What a lovely thought. He was going to need to do better than that, though. She wasn’t going through all this again when he had a snit and decided to reject it. She raised a brow. “I understood that you’d declined it.”
He clutched her hands, and she swore he might be sweating.
She stared at him, willing him to say what she needed to hear. The whole party might have joined them on the veranda for all she knew. Xander filled her vision. Her heart beat double time in hope.
His voice tremulous, he begged, something she would never have expected the proud pub manager to do.
“Please, please accept my apology? Life without you is miserable. I miss my companion in the library so much, my partner in debating the merits of bills and making financial decisions. Cheltie be damned. I am in love with you, and I wish to marry you as quickly as your parents will allow. Please, Lady Evelyn, become the Duchess of Rutland so you can continue to teach me how to be a dratted duke?”
Tears formed and her shoulders dropped in relief as he said all the things she’d been waiting for. A sob escaped her, and she bit her lip.
He loved her!
“Are you sure? You won’t run off again if I make a mistake? And you’ll come to London occasionally to see my family?” She could actually live without the last one, as they’d proven they’d travel to her, but she threw it out there to test how far he’d go for her.
“Yes. Absolutely yes to all of it. Anything you want if you’ll have me. And you have final say before I—we—sell any properties. We can take a wedding trip to visit all of them.”
She laughed through her tears at his eagerness. Everything she’d ever hoped for was on offer, and she couldn’t wait another minute to accept. “Then, yes, I wish to be your wife, title or no. I’ve missed Mrs. Betters and Duncan and the house, too.”
He gathered her into his arms, but at her last statement leaned back and asked, “You’re not marrying me for them, are you?”
She patted his shoulder. “No, you dolt. I told you I loved you ages ago. I was waiting for you to catch up.”
He laughed and leaned down as though to kiss her.
She in turn leaned back. “Xander, be sure. We’re at a ball. Kissing is beyond scandalous. Even this embrace is enough to compromise me.”
“I’m sorry.” He stepped back.
“No, no, don’t run away again. I don’t care in the least. But I want you to be very sure before my father is told we are out here.”
He leaned in and kissed her. “As I said, your wish is my command, my lady. Yours is the only opinion I care about.”
As they turned to go inside, the Earl of Craven was indeed at the doors watching, but not interfering, standing next to North.
Xander sketched a shallow bow and asked, “Sir, may I call on you tomorrow to finalize the particulars of the betrothal? I’d like to claim my bride as soon as possible.”
Her father looked at her and waited for her nod before responding, “I look forward to it.”