Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
E vangeline decided not to sit on the settee they had occupied only earlier that day and instead went and sat at the small ladies’ desk. The walnut piece was petite and refined, adorned with ivory-handled quills and a single pressed flower sat upon some letters—a clear sign it was for the duchess’s private correspondence.
Ezra sat across from Evangeline and prepared himself to tell her the truth of his life. At least the parts she needed to know. Of course, she could not know everything—no one could—but he could settle some of her doubts and explain the predicament they now found themselves in.
She sat and watched him, her beautiful features making him forget for a moment all the troubles that weighed them down at present. He could lose himself in her eyes, her sweetness. Just being here with her, alone and betrothed, made him want to forget the outside world and only make her happy.
"I'm ready to hear what happened, Ezra," she said, giving him her full attention.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "When I lived abroad, I worked for the Foreign Office in the capacity of a King’s Man." He went on to tell her where he was stationed and the amendment to his features so he could remain anonymous. He told her what she could know, while also keeping certain facts to himself.
"A spy?" She looked at him as if he had sprouted a second head.
He could not blame her. The position he once occupied abroad wasn’t the norm, and very few people of his ilk were hired for such roles.
"I do not know what to say," she said. He could see her mind was racing, thinking, jumping to who-knew-what imaginations. "So the gentleman who threatened me obviously knows who you are. Does that not help somewhat in finding out who he is? I should imagine your circle of trusted people was small. One of them has obviously tattled as to your identity."
"No one in Italy knew who I was, hence why I'm at a loss as to who this could be." Other than Luisa, whom he’d told, but she had passed away. She would not have broken his trust. She had loved him. He ran a hand through his hair, hating that the guilt of her death still plagued him. The flickering fire in the hearth cast shadows on the walls, matching the darkness that gathered inside him at the memory. A sure sign that her death would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"Well someone knows.” She paused, frowning in thought. “I want to help, but all I can tell you is the man had long, dark eyelashes and lips similar to yours. It’s why I thought it was you at first, but otherwise he was unrecognizable, even though he did not correct me when I assumed him to be you. He sounded British, but he could have been attempting that accent, I do not know."
A troubling fact that did not make Ezra feel any better. "You cannot tell anyone of what once occupied my time. There are people looking into this threat, and we shall be rid of him soon enough."
"You are not going to kill him, are you? For all his anger toward us, I do not wish anyone to die."
"If he lays one hand on you or your family, he will face the full wrath of myself, before the law has a hand in his future." That Ezra could promise, and nor was he mincing his words. "I lost one person under my care in the past. I shall not lose another. Certainly not the woman who is to be my wife."
She threw him a small, secretive smile before glancing down at the desk. She frowned and picked up a missive that was addressed to her, one she could only assume her sister had forgotten to give her. Evangeline broke the seal and opened it.
"Who is the letter from?" he asked.
Her scowl deepened. "It’s a note really, just a few words, but…"
"May I read it?" he asked.
Evangeline looked at him and her eyes cooled of emotion. "It says that you were engaged to be married when abroad. That your fiancée died at your hands." She paused. "Is that true?"
Ezra reached for the missive and read it quickly. God damn it, he’d not meant for Evangeline to find out about his previous engagement this way. He’d wanted to tell her, to explain… The missive trembled slightly in his grip as if the very memory of Luisa’s death had found its way into the ink.
Then why haven’t you told her everything already?
He placed the missive back on the desk and faced her. "I was betrothed, to a woman named Luisa Rossi. She was of similar age, and I cared for her deeply. And because of my position, she was killed. An error I live with daily and one I will not have happen again. I will not tolerate or give an inch to any fiend who dares threaten you as they did her.”
"You were engaged?" she repeated, shock registering on her face. "Did you love her?"
Oh bugger. He’d not wanted to answer that question. Not when, up until now, they had not talked or discussed the emotions or feelings that swam between them. Or what he had felt in a life that felt like a hundred years ago.
"I cared for her deeply and I suppose I will admit to being in love with her. I do not say that to hurt you, Evangeline. It does not take away anything that is happening between us. We’re separate to my past."
She looked down at the note, but he could see she debated his words. "And if I was to say that I think that I’m falling in love with you, what would your response be? Will you tell me that you feel the same as you did to your betrothed back in Italy? Or will you tell me what I already fear is true?"
Fear is true? Whatever was she thinking? "Evangeline, what I feel for you is independent to what happened in my life before I returned to London. Do not ask me of that time. I was a different man then. I thought I could control things that I could not. Perhaps even arrogant that nothing would occur other than to me. I do not want to answer that question because I do not think it’s something that ought to be discussed."
"Because you do not want to admit that you loved Miss Rossi and you do not love me. That our marriage is being forced upon us because we were caught together and our kiss became known. Just admit it," she said, her tone cold, her eyes devoid of emotion. "Admit that while you may like me very much—and I do not doubt you desire me—you do not love me. And I would be a fool to think that this betrothal is anything but an arrangement that keeps scandal from the Ravensmere and St. George doors."
Ezra leaned forward, needing her to understand. "While I do not know what I feel—we’ve barely known each other a month—I know that I like you. That I look forward to being married to you. I want you, always. The sight of you even now makes me want to reach for you, to hold and kiss you. Is that not enough to start a happy marriage?"
She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, placing space between them. "I have little choice now but to accept such a start, do I not?"
The room seemed to shrink, heavy with the unsaid words and lingering silence between their conversation. "Evangeline, I have a past. A past that I cannot change, and one that is over. I do not want us to be at odds over this. There is no need to be that way."
"You were so against marriage. Before our kiss you mentioned that you were not looking for a wife, and now I hear that you were engaged. How do you think that makes me feel? While I know you have a past, and I know I made a mistake by asking you to kiss me at Richmond, a small part of me hoped…" She paused, looking across the room away from him, gathering herself. "I suppose a small part of me hoped that I would win your affection and you would change your mind. That you would ask me to be your wife because you wanted me to be—not because we were forced. And while that did not happen, to hear that you loved another so much that you wanted her to be your wife, while I will only become the next Countess St. George because my guardian found out we’d kissed—well, it’s humiliating, not to mention heartbreaking."
Ezra stared at Evangeline, unsure as to how to make this right. The truth was as she stated, but that did not mean it would always be like this. "In time my affection for you—and I do have much toward you, I would not have kissed you, I would not have been drawn to you had I not liked you—will grow." He sighed. "I did not think to meet a woman such as yourself when I came back to London. I did not know I would be drawn to you as much as I have been. Please do not be distressed over what you’ve learned this evening. I will try to make you happy, I promise."
Evangeline looked back at him, but he could see the doubt, the hurt in her gaze. "There is little I can do about it now in any case. We are betrothed and there is nothing to be done about that."