Chapter 23
The night air was cold, and Evelina wished that she had thought to bring her shawl with her.
Evelina’s encounter with the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury had left her feeling shattered and anxious.
Although the air was too cool to be comfortable, it served to steady her.
She had survived the encounter with Stephan’s grandmother.
Evelina sighed. She sat on a stone bench in the gardens, watching as the wind moved the fronds of a weeping willow tree and bent the heads of flowers. Her throat ached; it seemed that the night air was not enough to soothe it as it did the rest of her.
Her husband had not yet returned. Evelina struggled to swallow past the lump in her throat.
Would he return, and if he did, what state would he be in?
Evelina was a woman of reason, and she knew that in all likelihood her husband would return, probably having spent the day working.
Still, it was too easy to forget that and instead imagine the worst.
Maybe she had upset him, wounded him with her refusal. The memory of her former husband burned inside her. What would she do if Stephan returned like that, drunk and staggering and utterly uninterested in her?
No, Evelina thought. He still needs his heir. He cannot get that from any woman except his wife.
Evelina clasped her hands together in her lap, so tightly that her fingers ached.
Even if that was so, she remembered too well the previous night.
She had wanted him; her body had come alive with his touch, and even as she sat in the garden, Evelina’s core ached in memory of the wonderful release that she had found.
He had told her that such pleasant sensations would accompany a formal congress.
Evelina shivered and hugged herself. Her husband’s mouth was not nearly so frightening as his manhood, which looked impossibly large to her.
Was it possible that her body would be simply unable to contain him?
Evelina had heard—had read, rather—that some young women had difficulties with consummation.
Was it impossible for some women, though? Would it be impossible for her?
She inhaled deeply, her chest aching as she brought the night air into her lungs.
Evelina had married Stephan, so they could have a child together.
She had to gather her courage and consummate their marriage.
Once she did it once, Evelina was certain she would be able to do it again.
She would have as many amorous encounters with her husband as was needed to give her the child she so desired.
It would be simple. So simple.
“Or not,” she muttered.
It sounded easy, but that was it. Not only was Evelina unable to bring herself to fulfill her marital duties, but she found herself strangely unsettled by Her Grace’s suggestion that Stephan would leave her once he had what he wanted.
There was no reason for her to give that another thought, but she found herself agonizing over it.
Somehow, Evelina knew that his inevitable distance would hurt, but she could not determine precisely why.
That had been their agreement; she would produce an heir, and Stephan would remain out of her life forever.
Maybe she had not been prepared for the reality of this marriage, for Evelina found herself thinking more and more of her failed first marriage. Could it be that she was not prepared to face such a marriage again, another husband who did not wish to know her?
“Your Grace!” Mrs. Newbury’s startled voice came from behind her. “Why, I scarcely believed it when I heard you were out here alone! Are you well?”
Evelina let out a sharp laugh before she could stop herself. “I am fine, Mrs. Newbury.” The words emerged rasping and sharp. “Do not worry yourself on my account.”
Evelina stood, wincing. She had been seated for such a long time that her legs were numb, and her muscles protested the sudden movement. Evelina sniffled. Choosing to sit outside in the cold had probably worsened her cold, if that was what this ailment was.
“Shall I prepare something for you?” Mrs. Newbury asked. “Some tea?”
Evelina glanced at the housekeeper, who fidgeted with her hands.
Even though Evelina and Mrs. Newbury stood some distance away from one another, Evelina had the impression that the housekeeper was hovering over her, too close to be proper.
“No,” Evelina said, sighing. “I do not suppose Stephan has returned?”
“No, Your Grace,” Mrs. Newbury said. “Shall I send for him?”
“Do you know where he is?” Evelina asked.
Stephan had said nothing about his whereabouts, but if it was his usual habit to be away from his house in the evenings, that would mean Evelina was not the reason for his absence. The possibility was freeing.
“I imagine he is at his club,” Mrs. Newbury said. “He usually spends his mornings in parliament and meets his friend there in the evenings.”
A club. Evelina inhaled sharply, trying not to assume the worst. Most gentlemen attended clubs regularly.
It was only that the late Earl of Thornwall had attended clubs; that was where he began his nights of debauchery, which inevitably ended with him in another woman’s bed.
Evelina’s pulse leaped. She would not be a wife who sat at home and languished with fear over her husband. She could not be.
Besides, she was not supposed to care about this man at all. There was no affection between them. Why was it, then, that she kept thinking about him? Why did the thought of there being nothing between them fill her with a hollowness inside?
Evelina bit the inside of her cheek, mulling over the question. “No,” she said at last. “I think it is for the best that we leave him be. I do not wish to disturb him.”
Besides, she had learned that men did not like their wives meddling in their business. Evelina could not risk driving Stephan further away from her, for the sake of the child they both desperately wanted.
Yes, it was only the child. If Evelina told herself that enough, she might make herself believe that she cared not if—no, when—he inevitably abandoned her.
As long as she had her child, that was all that mattered.
Once she did, maybe she and Stephan could discuss other children; it was good to have an heir and a spare, after all.
Beyond that, they need not enjoy one another’s company any longer.
Evelina was strong. She could do this. She had to do this.
Evelina had sacrificed and risked too much to let this plan fall apart, especially over something as small as her marital duties.
She would do what so many women before her had done, and she would consummate her marriage and produce the heir her husband needed. It was as simple as that.
As she turned, her vision blurred. Evelina’s head felt as if it was full of cotton, and her blood rang in her ears. She shook her head and blinked blearily, trying to force the feeling away. “I will retire,” she said. “I wish to be rested for when my husband returns home.”
Evelina was certain that this was only a small ailment, a little cold brought about by her remaining too long in her cold bath water and then choosing to spend her evening in the garden without even her shawl to keep her warm.
With a little rest, she would be well, and this time, she would give her husband what he needed from her.
“As you wish, Your Grace. Shall I send him to you once he returns?”
Evelina nodded. “Yes, that would be good.”
She would rest and compose herself. By the time Stephan returned from his club, Evelina had resolved to have all her thoughts in order and all her hesitations vanquished. It was a good plan. She could do this. She could.
Evelina managed a shaky smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Newbury. You have been…most helpful today.”
Mrs. Newbury’s face brightened, as if Evelina had just given her the entire world.
A spark of guilt twinged in her chest, for she had done nothing to deserve that joyful, gentle look.
After having breakfast, Evelina had wandered around the townhouse, spoken to the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury, and retreated to the gardens, where she had stayed for hours in the cold.
She was a failure of a duchess, a woman who had accomplished very little on her first full day as the mistress of the house.
“If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask,” Mrs. Newbury said. “We are so pleased to have you here, Your Grace, and I know that all the staff just wants to see you happy here.”
Evelina paused, considering the woman for a moment. “I suppose you are acquainted with the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury.”
A flicker of hesitation appeared in Mrs. Newbury’s face. “I am, Your Grace.”
“She seems…” Evelina trailed off, the thought falling apart.
Evelina was so very tired, and she did not even remember what she had been going to ask Mrs. Newbury. What would the woman have to offer, anyway? She likely knew as much about the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury as Evelina did.
“She is a powerful woman,” Mrs. Newbury offered.
“What a tactful answer,” Evelina murmured.
There was no denying that Her Grace was powerful, which made her presence in the house all the more worrisome.
Evelina had been careful in making her arrangements with Stephan, but a knot of uncertainty twisted in her stomach.
What if she had made an error of some kind?
What if Her Grace was cleverer than Evelina was and had already uncovered some fatal flaw in Evelina’s plans?
Mrs. Newbury said nothing, but she looked guilty, as though there was more she wished to offer, but she did not know how. “I am sorry, Your Grace.”
“No matter,” Evelina said. “Enjoy your evening.”
As she walked to the house, her limbs were leaden.
Her exhaustion was like a physical weight, pressing mercilessly down on her.
She ached as she climbed the stairs. It was not the pleasant ache she had felt when she was with Stephan in the bedroom, but a deep-seated pain that sank all the way down to her bones.
With every passing moment, she felt worse and worse. Evelina walked into her bedroom, her chest burning and her breath coming in harsh, uneven pants. She stumbled to her bed and rolled onto her back, her chest heaving. Evelina was disoriented and uneven, her thoughts stumbling over one another.
She was unwell.
Evelina groaned and rolled onto her side.
She had not even removed her gown. Evelina swallowed hard and considered calling for Helena, her lady’s maid, but she did not wish to be a burden.
If Evelina did not have her independence, she had nothing.
Even if she was a little sick, there was no reason that she could not undress herself.
“You can do this,” she murmured, stumbling from the bed.
Evelina’s hands shook as she removed her gown and fumbled with the familiar laces of her stays. She tossed both garments onto the floor, her entire body shivering so badly that Evelina was a little surprised to find herself still capable of standing.
She climbed into the bed and heaved the bed linens over her cold, trembling body.
I am sicker than I originally assumed. The thought came to her from a fog of confusion and fragmented feelings. That is most unfortunate.
Evelina smothered an exhausted laugh and closed her eyes. Maybe she would feel better after rest. She had to recover by the time her husband returned, after all. Evelina had already decided upon that. She had to recover, so they could properly consummate the marriage.
Then, she would be a step closer to having the child she had always wanted.