Chapter 32
Evelina’s breath shuddered unevenly in her chest. She had not moved from her husband’s bed, unaware of how much time had passed. Her eyes burned, tears falling down her cheeks. She had sworn that this marriage was only one of convenience.
Now, she was paying for forgetting that. Evelina pulled her knees up to her chest and sobbed, her errors plaguing her. If she had said nothing, she and Stephan might be at the breakfast table at that very moment, enjoying food and one another’s company. He might not have abandoned her.
She should have said nothing, but that had been impossible when she had awakened, feeling more like herself than ever before with him at her side.
The intimacy of the act had struck her like nothing else ever had, and her breast had swelled with hope and wonder.
She had dared think that he might love her.
Worse, Evelina still thought he might love her.
It was just that Stephan refused to act on his affections for her.
Instead, he had fled! Evelina could scarcely contain her disbelief.
He had not even left her because he longed for another woman or did not care for her, but seemingly because he did not know how to face his own feelings!
There was a knock on the door, and a tiny spark of hope lit in her chest. Had Stephan returned to her?
“Come in,” she said, roughly rubbing her hands with her eyes.
If it was Stephan, was she prepared to face him after he had abandoned her?
She bit the inside of her cheek, remembering how he had cruelly mentioned their contract with one another.
That was what they had agreed upon, but Evelina did not imagine that mattered if they both cared for one another, if they both wanted to be something other than a marriage of convenience.
The door creaked, and Mrs. Newbury peered into the room. Evelina wanted to cry in despair. She turned her face away, so the housekeeper would not see her tears. “Mrs. Newbury,” Evelina said, her voice shaking. “I did not realize it was you.”
What else could she say? I wish it was my husband? Even if that was true, the wound was too raw to express to anyone, much less someone whom she barely knew.
“I apologize, Your Grace.”
Evelina let out an undignified laugh. “Why should you apologize? You have done nothing wrong.”
Evelina curled her hands into fists. A wild fury seized her. She wanted to scream and rage and throw something. Evelina had shown vulnerability, and her husband had abandoned her!
“I am sorry for disturbing you,” Mrs. Newbury said. “Is there…is there anything that I might do for you, Your Grace?”
Evelina shook her head. A pressure grew behind her eyes, tears threatening once more.
She heard silence behind her and suspected that Mrs. Newbury had not yet left.
Evelina squeezed her eyes closed and tried to gather the resolve to do something other than cry like the forlorn, neglected heroine in a romance.
“Perhaps, I can send for someone, Your Grace,” Mrs. Newbury continued, her voice hesitant. “Maybe—ah—your sister? Or one of the other ladies whose company you enjoy.”
Evelina managed a ragged breath of air. Did she want her sister to see her like this?
Evelina was the elder sister, and she had always tried to be a pillar of strength and stability.
She loved Theodora—of course, she did—but something about her beloved sister seeing her like this, so upset over the rejection of a man whom she had sworn not to love, was…
Shameful. Disgraceful.
She was a modern, independent woman. Evelina was not supposed to care about what any man thought, even her husband. Especially her husband.
“I am unraveling,” Evelina muttered.
“Your Grace?”
Evelina cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes again. “I—I wish—you are right. I would like to see my sister.”
“As you wish, Your Grace. I am happy to prepare the carriage for you.”
Mrs. Newbury curtsied and left. The silence seemed louder in her absence.
Evelina sniffed and rubbed her nose with her forearm, uncaring of the mess it made on her sleeve.
She could not do this. She would not do this.
Evelina was not the stoic, unshakeable Penelope waiting faithfully for Odysseus to return to her.
She was no heroic, resolute woman of legend.
Evelina was just like any other woman. She had hoped too much and ruined herself.
At least, Odysseus had a good reason for being away from home. What excuse did her husband have? Were his feelings too much to manage? Evelina might have laughed if she was not already so distressed by his behavior.
Slowly, Evelina moved away from the bed, smoothing the wrinkles from her chemise. Heat rushed to her face. As if being embarrassed was not enough, she still wore only her chemise. She wrapped her arms around herself and inhaled deeply, as if Evelina was physically keeping herself together.
Then, she raised her head and left the room. Mrs. Newbury encountered her in the corridor. Her face softened, and Evelina knew the woman must be sympathetic, her motherly instincts stirred to life by Evelina’s wretched appearance.
“Your Grace, I was just coming to tell you that I have prepared the carriage,” she said.
Evelina nodded. “Thank you. I will…” she trailed off, trying to keep herself from falling to pieces. “I will require a few items for the journey. A few gowns for different occasions. I want to stay with my sister for a while, just a friendly visit.”
Mrs. Newbury’s expression made it clear that she knew Evelina was not just paying her sister a friendly visit. Thankfully, the woman said nothing. Instead, she merely nodded, as though there was nothing strange at all about Evelina’s request. “Of course, Your Grace. I will see to it at once.”
Evelina went to her bedroom, Mrs. Newbury coming behind. As she swept into her bedroom, colorful and lovely with the flowers she had insisted on having, a knot twisted in Evelina’s chest. This was her bedroom, and she had worked to make it her own. She had added light and color.
“How long will you be staying with your sister, Your Grace?” Mrs. Newbury asked. “I ask, so I know how many gowns you will require.”
Evelina sighed. “I do not know. A few days,” she said. “I will send for more clothing if need be.”
She still needed to have an heir, still wanted an heir, and she could only do that if she inevitably returned to him. Or perhaps Stephan would come to her.
“Of course. I should have thought of that, Your Grace.”
Evelina said nothing. Her lady’s maid was not present, which was something of a relief. Evelina was hollowed out and raw, and it took all her strength to keep talking to Mrs. Newbury without lashing out.
Evelina dressed slowly, her thoughts an ocean away.
It was as if she was a clock, repeating the same path over and over.
How had she let this happen? Why had she fallen in love with him and worse, admitted that she cared for him?
Evelina ran her hands through her hair, trying to force her disheveled curls into some semblance of order.
She turned to the mirror, inwardly cringing at her own appearance.
Her eyes were rimmed red, and tear tracks still shone on her cheeks.
Evelina adjusted her hair for a few more moments.
Nothing seemed to improve her appearance, so at last, she admitted defeat.
Evelina’s shoulders slumped, and she absentmindedly ran her hands over her pale pink gown.
It was such a beautiful, cheerful color to wear on such a wretched day.
Evelina glanced at Mrs. Newbury, who was still bustling through Evelina’s gowns. “Send them after me,” Evelina said quietly. “I wish to leave as soon as possible.”
That soft, sympathetic look was like a knife to Evelina’s ribs.
If she had received ambivalence or disdain, Evelina knew that she would have been hurt by it.
Still, she found herself ill at ease with sympathy.
Maybe a small part of Evelina believed that she was undeserving of such tenderness.
She had done this to herself, after all.
This pain was the result of her own foolish errors.
Why had she believed for even a moment that she could turn her marriage of convenience into a love-match?
Evelina kept thinking of her poor decisions again and again, as if she might somehow find some means by which to escape the consequences of her actions.
“Thank you,” Evelina said quietly.
She left the room and descended the stairs, all her energy depleted. Evelina’s tears had run dry, leaving her feeling worn and wrung out. If she had not already asked for the coach, she might have flung herself onto her bed in the hopes of finding sleep and therefore, respite for just a few hours.
Now what? Evelina wondered.
Her husband had left, and he had provided her with no indication of when he would return.
Stephan could not remain away for long if he wished to produce an heir in time to meet the contract’s stipulations.
Still, Evelina was seized by the horrifying notion that he might decide she was simply too difficult to return to.
As Evelina entered the foyer, Stephan’s butler gave her a bright look; his happy expression faded in a heartbeat. “Are you well, Your Grace?”
She nodded stiffly. “Fine.”
Evelina swept past him, barely noticing when he stumbled around to reach the door before her.
What might it be like to get into the coach and simply leave?
Evelina imagined herself settling against the seat and telling her driver to just take her far away.
She would go all the way to Scotland and live as a woman without a title, a nameless person who no one would look at twice.
Evelina could not do that. Even if she wished to flee, she doubted that she could. What would she do when Stephan inevitably remembered his duty to conceive an heir? He would come searching for her, and Evelina would seem like a coward.
“Your Grace.” The footman snapped to attention and drew open the coach door for her.
“I wish to visit my sister,” Evelina said.
“As you wish, Your Grace.”
For a heartbeat, she considered swearing the footman to secrecy. Evelina had assumed thus far that Stephan would be away for some time. What if he was not, though? What if he insisted on speaking to her and continuing their conversation quickly? Evelina sighed.
She could not bear to see Stephan again, not so soon after he had broken her heart, but asking the footman to grant her just one more request sounded like too much effort.
As Evelina settled onto the cushions, the footman cast her a concerned look.
She closed her eyes, silently hoping he would not ask why she looked so dreadful.
“I shall make all haste, Your Grace,” he said.
“Good,” Evelina muttered.
The door shut. Once she was alone, Evelina turned her head to the window, her eyes listlessly sweeping over the sight of London in the springtime.
Servants gossiped to one another. What stories would they share about her?
Evelina curled her fingers into her skirts, not caring that she wrinkled the fabric of them.
Her thoughts went to the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury.
She would be delighted to learn that Evelina and Stephan had quarreled.
The coach jolted into motion, and Evelina smiled bitterly.
Her heart ached as the coach pulled her away from the townhouse, which had become her home over the past few weeks.
That was where she had lost her maidenhood.
It was where Stephan had shown her such tender care when she was ill.
It was where she had imagined that she would live until their child was born, if not beyond that.
Evelina stifled a sob and lay down on the seat. Her worst fears had come true: she had fallen in love, and it was her doom.