Chapter 16
Evelyn went back and forth between not being able to look at her husband and unable to take her eyes off of him. Last night had felt so comfortable. Intimate. Like they were no longer strangers, but… partners, if nothing else.
Although so much inside of her had ached to kiss him again, especially when she remembered just how his lips had felt on hers.
But she had no wish to be rejected, and he had made it quite clear how he felt about her role in his life.
The following morning, when she had appeared at the breakfast table, he was no longer the man who had made her warm milk in the kitchen last night, but, rather, had returned to his ducal role.
“I would like to pay a visit to the Marquess of Eastclere today,” he had said, surprising her. “The more I consider it, the more convinced I am that someone in his household played a role in this.”
“Perhaps you should abandon this quest,” Thalia had said, speaking up from the other side of the table. “I fear you are becoming somewhat obsessed with it.”
“I am tired of waiting for another misfortune or an additional rumor to start,” he had said. “Best to face it head on.”
And so, after a visit to the British Institution as requested by Evelyn, the two of them were now returning to Eastclere House.
The early afternoon light filtered in through the window of the carriage, highlighting Asher’s perfect cheekbones, accentuating his attractiveness to the point that Evelyn had to look away.
He was distracted during the carriage ride, and when they finally arrived at the house, all he said to her as they ascended the stairs was, “I will do the talking.”
“Then why even bring me?” she asked, stopping just short of rolling her eyes.
“Because you pick up on things that others do not,” he said.
Evelyn supposed she would have to take that as a compliment.
“Your grace,” the butler said when he greeted them, flustered, “what can I do for you today?”
“We would like to see Lord Eastclere,” Asher said.
“I shall see if he is available,” the butler said, but when Asher gave him that look with one eyebrow raised that brokered no argument, he conceded and led them through the ostentatious manor toward the drawing room.
The house itself seemed tense, unsettled, and most of the staff were ignoring them.
The drawing room was not nearly as perfectly poised as it had been during the Spring Soiree, with a few papers scattered where they didn’t belong, books out of place, and a pillow that was precariously close to falling on the floor.
“Something is not right,” Evelyn whispered to Asher, but before he could answer, Lord Eastclere joined them.
“Your grace,” he said to each of them before taking a seat on the chair across from where they sat next to one another on the sofa. He was dressed, but it appeared that he had hastily tied his cravat, and his jacket buttons were misaligned. “What can I do for you today?”
It was the same question the butler had asked.
“It is not what you can do for us, Lord Eastclere,” Asher said, “but it is a matter that we would like to discuss.”
Asher continued to describe to him the events following the theft of the Paragon Diamond.
“That is what you are here to discuss?” the marquess said, blue eyes flashing. He was an attractive man, but there was something about him that Evelyn found rather cold. She had met him often enough through Verity, but he usually paid her little mind.
Tonight, however, was a different story, as when his eyes left Asher’s to fall on her, they narrowed, as though he was sizing her up.
“Yes,” Asher said without emotion. “Have you heard anything from your detective?”
The marquess scoffed. “Nothing that I have any interest in sharing. Now, why would we need to discuss this together?”
“The blame that we have received has changed everything in our lives,” Asher said.
“Including marriage to one another, I presume?”
“That was part of it,” Asher admitted.
“Ah,” the marquess said, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “So the gossips were right. This was not a love match.”
Evelyn froze at the reminder of the truth, while Asher leaned toward the marquess, practically coming between her and the other lord with his body.
“How our marriage occurred says nothing about its current status,” he said slowly. “And I would appreciate it if you would keep yourself out of my personal business.”
“Your personal business?” the marquess scoffed, his blond eyebrows nearly reaching his hairline. “I believe you are the one who currently finds yourself in my house, in my drawing room, arriving unannounced and discussing an affair that does not concern you.”
“It concerned me the moment my name was drawn in.”
“In which I had no part.”
“Perhaps if you had kept the diamond secure, then none of us would be in this situation.”
The marquess stood abruptly, fist cocked, his face drawn together.
“Why you—”
“Pardon me, gentlemen,” Evelyn said, standing and raising her hands between them.
“I do not believe this is getting us anywhere. We have all been affected by this situation, and flinging accusations at one another will get us nowhere. I believe it would be far better to have an open, honest discussion.”
The marquess slowly retook his seat, as Evelyn returned to the sofa.
“For you, your grace. I will leave this be,” he said, his eyes on Evelyn before flicking over to Asher with distaste.
Evelyn couldn’t help but wonder whether there was any history between them, but that question would have to wait until later.
“Did you not discover enough when you visited my gallery?”
So he did know about that. But of course he would. Surely, all of the staff reported back to him.
“That is actually where we discovered a few interesting components to the theft,” Evelyn said, hurrying to answer before Asher, for she had a feeling that it would be better coming from her. “Based on the mechanics of the display—”
Asher cut in bluntly, “We have reason to believe the theft was engineered by someone familiar with your gallery displays.”
They were met by silence as Evelyn shot Asher a look, although from the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she detected a slight flinch on Eastclere’s part.
“Neither my staff nor I had anything to do with the theft,” he said before adding dryly, “clearly. Why would I steal an item already in my possession?”
Except that it did have a price, and he might have had it underwritten.
Evelyn held Lord Eastclere's gaze steadily, determined not to let him evade the truth. She leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped in her lap, but it was Asher who spoke.
"Lord Eastclere, I understand the Paragon Diamond was a prized possession, not merely a valuable one. It must be quite a financial burden to maintain such an extensive collection." He paused, letting the implication hang in the air. "I imagine the debts accrued could become challenging to manage."
The marquess stiffened almost imperceptibly. "My finances are well in hand, your grace. The temporary loss of one gem, no matter how rare, will hardly topple my estate."
Evelyn noticed his eyes dart briefly to an ornate desk in the corner.
"Of course," she said with a demure smile.
“My husband meant that desperate times can drive people to desperate measures.
Even those we trust implicitly." She paused.
“Someone did tamper with the mechanism. And it was likely someone who knew what they were doing.
Did you authorize any work on the diamond's display case before the Spring Soiree? Any mechanical adjustments that could have unintentionally compromised its security?”
"Certainly not," he bit out. "I would never so recklessly endanger the Paragon. Afterward, I let go all of the staff who had anything to do with putting the diamond’s security at risk.”
She glanced at Asher and saw him watching her, his eyes intent. He gave her the barest nod, telling her to continue, even though he had initially recommended she simply observe.
Evelyn's mind raced as she tried to put the pieces together, as vague as their outlines might be. Eastclere knew more than he admitted. He was hiding something – or protecting someone. The truth hovered just out of reach, tantalizing and elusive.
But confronting him directly would get them nowhere. They needed to draw him out, gain his trust. An idea sparked.
"Forgive my impertinence, Lord Eastclere," Evelyn said, softening her tone. "I know we've put you in an awkward position. It's just that this whole affair has been so very upsetting. I'm not accustomed to navigating such scandals."
She widened her eyes beseechingly. "I don't have my husband's experience in Society. I'm afraid my inquisitive nature often gets the better of me.”
“Of course,” he said, his countenance shifting slightly as he leaned back and crossed one leg over the other, his eyes running up and down her in a motion smooth enough to tell her he was used to having his way with any woman.
“You are refreshing, your grace,” he said.
“In what way?” Evelyn asked as she felt Asher stiffen beside her, apparently having assessed the marquess’s interest as she did.
“You are enchantingly fearless,” he said, tilting his head to look at her. “You say things and ask questions that no other young lady would ever dare to. I rather enjoy it. Far better than veiled comments behind one’s back, I should say.”
“I do agree,” she said honestly. “How about this — why do we not help one another? If you can think of anything that would provide a clue as to what happened during the theft, you will tell us, and we will do the same for you.”
“Very well, your grace,” he said. “I would be more than happy to be in touch with you again.”
He reached out a hand with his card held out between his thumb and forefinger, and Asher reached over Evelyn and snapped it out of his hand.
“Thank you,” they both said before they were led back to the front door.
The marquess followed them, nodding to Asher and then reaching out and taking Evelyn’s hand in his, bowing low over it before leaning down and pressing the faintest of kisses on top of her gloved hand.
“It was a pleasure, your grace,” he said, before Asher stepped forward and took Evelyn’s forearm in his hand, tugging it back toward him.
“My wife and I must be going now,” he said. “Farewell.”
At that, he turned and marched them out the door without a look behind them.
It took everything within Evelyn not to laugh at the anger that was practically radiating off him.
She knew it wasn’t at her, not directly.
Asher was jealous. Not because of her, specifically. It was that another man wanted what he saw as his. Which was ridiculous, for she was actually rather interested in this man for himself.
But it was nice to think that he cared.
Even if it was for only a minute.