Chapter 22
For the first time since returning to London, Stephan allowed himself to relax.
He tipped his head back against the seat and settled more comfortably.
A half-filled glass of brandy was held loosely in his right hand, and he’d drunk enough to feel pleasant and carefree.
Murrayton sat beside him; they had been talking about nothing of consequence for a considerable time, just the usual business that involved being an aristocrat, managing properties and pleasing tenants.
It was perfect, easier than he thought it would be, to fall into the expected pattern of being the Duke of Rothbury. Stephan’s mood was so exuberant that even his grandmother’s arrival would have been unable to dampen his spirits.
“Do you fancy trying your hand at cards?” Murrayton asked, grinning.
Stephan shook his head and raised his glass of brandy. “I need at least two more before I am willing to try that,” he said.
Stephan had no particular opposition to gambling, but he was poor at it. Worse, he did not like to lose to anyone and knew that he was not gracious in defeat, unless he had drunk to excess. Stephan seldom did that either.
“I must say, I am surprised to see you tonight,” Murrayton said.
Stephan brought the brandy to his lips. He had caught an unusual note of caution in his friend’s voice, and Stephan suspected that Murrayton was on the verge of saying something which would greatly displease him.
“Why is that?” Stephan asked.
It was best to be direct. An admiral did not flee from battle, after all. He faced his adversaries directly and without hesitation.
“You have your blushing bride at home,” Murrayton said. “I had thought you would be spending your nights with her.”
Stephan took a sip of his brandy. He would have preferred to spend his nights with her.
Evelina had an exquisite body, all soft curves and gentle angles, and last night, he had seen her come undone to his tongue.
Her face had flushed a charming pink, and the sound of her cries and moans had sent a fissure of pleasure burning through him.
He had ached for her. He still ached for her, and if he was not careful, the thought of touching Evelina might well undo him.
His breath quickened, and he took a large swallow of brandy to calm himself.
Murrayton watched him carefully. “We are friends, are we not? If there is something wrong or amiss, maybe I can offer some guidance.”
Stephan shook his head. “No guidance is needed. I am simply allowing Evelina time to adjust to being my wife and the Duchess of Rothbury. I will join her in due course.”
“Time,” Murrayton said delicately, “is a luxury that you do not have.”
“I have impressed upon Evelina how serious the matter is,” Stephan said. “She will not keep me waiting for long. I can afford to give her a few nights to become accustomed to her new life.”
Murrayton frowned and rubbed his jaw. “That is unlike you.”
“How so?”
“You have always been so direct and decisive,” Murrayton said. “That is what made you a good admiral. You did not falter or hesitate.”
He thought about explaining Evelina’s situation, that she was a virgin.
A virgin! Stephan could scarcely believe that himself.
The late Earl of Thornwall must have been the most ungrateful man in England.
Anyone who could see would observe that Evelina was beautiful.
How could any man marry that woman and choose to neglect her, to chase mistresses when she was so perfect and wonderfully responsive to attention?
She bloomed like a rose beneath his touches.
Stephan decided not to tell Murrayton that Evelina was a virgin and therefore more hesitant than he had expected. It seemed like a personal detail, which should remain between himself and his new, young wife.
“I was not managing women when I was an admiral,” Stephan said instead. “I must be careful with Evelina, or she will come to despise me.’
Stephan found himself strangely discomfited by the thought that he might upset Evelina.
There was no need for him to care about her feelings.
This arrangement was only a matter of convenience, nothing more, but Stephan still felt that he would be wretched if he upset her.
Evelina was a good woman, and regardless of how short their arrangement might be, he did not wish to upset her.
“I do not wish to question you,” Murrayton said.
Stephan raised a brow. “But you are anyway.”
“Indeed, I am. I am concerned for you. There is so little time for you to produce an heir,” Murrayton said, lowering his voice. “Are you certain that you can afford to wait? It is not always easy.”
“I know,” Stephan said, “and I am unworried. One or two nights will make little difference. Besides, the lady asked for more time. What choice do I have?”
“You could have persuaded her to take a different course of action,” replied Murrayton. “I know you can be persuasive when you try.”
Stephan sighed wearily and drank another generous swallow of the brandy. “What can I say?” he asked. “The lady expressed hesitation about our consummation, and I did not wish to argue with her.”
If Stephan was to say anything complimentary towards his grandmother, which he rarely had the inclination to do in recent years, it was that her life had taught him how difficult it was to be a woman.
He had more flaws than he cared to contemplate, but he would never be a man who made a woman uncomfortable.
Stephan would be patient and wait for Evelina.
She knew the stakes as well as he did, and she had every reason to want their arrangement to work. Evelina would delay no longer than she needed to; he was quite certain of that.
“Well…” Murrayton trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
Stephan knew his friend well enough to guess why. While there were many rakes in the ton, neither he nor Murrayton had ever been one. It was seldom that they discussed matters of the heart or congresses with women.
“I know you worry,” Stephan said. “You are my friend, and your consideration means everything to me. I promise that all is well.”
Murrayton sighed. “Would you tell me if it was not?”
“No,” Stephan admitted. “But it will be—Evelina is a good choice for a wife. We have an understanding, and I am certain she will soon be ready. Besides, we have more than enough time. What is a lost day here or there?”
Murrayton furrowed his brow. “If you say so.”
The conversation had clearly run its course, so Stephan decided it was time to speak of something else. “How is your wife?” he asked.
That was a safe direction in which to turn the conversation. There was nothing else in the world that Murrayton liked more than discussing his wife. “She is quite well,” he said, “entirely occupied with the Season, as you might imagine.”
Stephan nodded, as though he understood.
In truth, he knew little of how women prepared for the Season.
His mother had died too young for him to remember if she had cared for balls and soirees, and his grandmother had cared only about appearance.
It was difficult to find any enjoyment in society if one felt as if he was always being watched.
“I doubt I would enjoy such,” Stephan said. “It sounds exhausting.”
“Better her than me,” Murrayton said, his lips twitching in amusement. “Do you know that gossip of your marriage has already reached most of the ton? Amelia heard some ladies discussing it this morning in Regent’s Square.”
Stephan shrugged and finished his brandy. “You would think that everyone would have more pressing matters to tend to.”
Murrayton barked in laughter. “More pressing than your marriage to the ton’s most scandalous widow? Hardly.”
Stephan pressed his lips together, thinking. “She did not seem especially scandalous to me.”
In truth, he had not looked much at Evelina’s reputation; he had seen a woman who might be coaxed into a mutually beneficial arrangement, and that was all he had needed. Given her plan had been to bear a child outside of matrimony, Stephan did not doubt that the woman was scandalous, though.
“Her women’s club is not the usual gathering of bluestockings,” said Murrayton. “I have heard that they speak of matters which are less suitable for young ladies.”
Stephan waved a dismissive hand. “Evelina can discuss whatever she likes in her club and with whoever she likes. That is hardly my business.”
Despite his professed ambivalence, Stephan was forced to concede that the thought of having such a scandalous wife was a little thrilling.
Evelina was the most charming contradiction, a puzzle of maidenly modesty and brazenness.
Once she managed to overcome her hesitation in the bedroom, what would she be like?
Stephan imagined her eager and wanting. He thought of her eyes darkened with lust and of her sinfully plump lips.
Stephan looked at his brandy and found that the glass was empty.
He let out a soft, shuddering sigh. It seemed terribly ironic that he had just explained to Murrayton his rationale for giving Evelina the time she desired before their consummation, and yet his loins stirred at even the slightest thought of her wanting him.
“You are right,” Stephan said at last. “Well, not entirely. But enough. I should join my wife this evening and see if she will have me.”
“Best of luck, my friend.” Murrayton raised his glass in a small, playful toast. “To you and your charming duchess.”
“To us,” Stephan said. His glass was empty, but he still clinked it against Murrayton’s own. “And to the prosperity of the Dukedom of Rothbury.”
Stephan stood, placing the glass on the nearest table. He and Murrayton said their farewells, and Stephan left. No carriage waited him; he still had not grown accustomed to being so still, to being ferried about instead of walking. A restlessness burned inside him, and he quickened his footsteps.
He ached for the sea and his command, for the certainty of days gone by. At least, a beautiful woman waited for him at the townhouse, and if he was lucky, she might be amenable to having his company that evening.