Chapter 5
Vaughn no longer went to White’s. The attention he received there from gentlemen who looked down their noses at him and turned away when he approached was a humiliation he wished to avoid.
He had come to appreciate a different club, Fitzhugh’s, a great deal over the last few months.
It was run by a man who no one would label a gentleman, but who behaved with more care and thought than most men in Vaughn’s acquaintance.
And the company kept there was far more varied and interesting as a result.
Still, as he sat before one of the big windows overlooking the street below, he occasionally heard his name in the air, usually accompanied by his wife’s and Southwater’s. His stomach burned with acid at it, even as he tried to remain outwardly unmoved.
“May I buy you a drink?”
He glanced up at the question to find Silas Windham sliding into the chair across from his own.
He had known the man a little when they were children.
Windham was the bastard son of the previous Marquess of Penteghast, though he’d been raised amongst the legitimate children for some odd reason.
They’d gone to school together a few years and Vaughn had always liked the intelligent, if wild gentleman before him.
And yet he didn’t understand the approach and braced himself for all the reasons he might be making it.
“That would be kind,” he said carefully.
Windham raised a hand and when the room attendant came he asked for whisky. While they waited, they watched each other. He could feel Windham reading him, just as he was doing the same. In the end, he decided to simply launch the conversation in an attempt to control it.
“It’s good to have you back in London. You went to…to America, didn’t you?”
“Yes, for almost five years,” Windham said as he they took their glasses from the tray when it came and then clinked them together. “I returned when my brother took ill, became reacquainted with Arabella and the rest is history.”
Ah yes, the man had married Evelina’s older sister, the infamous courtesan Arabella Comerford. Which made Vaughn wonder if his recent interactions with Evelina were actually why he was being approached now.
He proceeded with caution. “I extend my truest felicitations on your marriage. I’ve seen you two together here and there. It seems a love match.”
He said that with great difficulty, for it brought up ugly emotions about his own life. Windham, of course, had no idea of the conflict in Vaughn’s chest and smiled broadly. “It is that. Thank you for the thought. It’s much appreciated.”
They were silent for a moment and then Vaughn sighed. “Do you come to find out more information about my divorce for the courtesan network? Or is it to address my recent interactions with Miss Evelina Comerford, which I’m certain you’ve heard about?”
Windham arched a brow, but didn’t look angry. “I’ve always liked a direct man. You can pick one or the other, I’m interested in both. Though not for the courtesan network. They can find out their own information—they don’t need me.”
Vaughn pursed his lips. “I suppose not. I really don’t want to discuss my marriage, thank you.”
“I understand that. Honestly, I wouldn’t have any interest in that topic at all if your marriage, or the end of it, didn’t directly affect my sister-in-law and in turn, the happiness of my wife.”
Vaughn downed his drink in one long gulp and set the glass aside. “Then say whatever it is you wish to say.”
“You revealed the truth about Southwater to Evelina.”
There was no emotion tied to that statement of fact. Vaughn couldn’t tell if Windham was relieved or upset or furious about his interference with Evelina’s awareness of her former lover’s behavior.
“I did. Accidentally at first. I thought because of her connections she must have heard about the scandalous connection of my wife to my former best friend. But once it was clear she didn’t, I felt it was important for her to hear it so that she’d know what kind of man she’d lost.”
“Not much of a loss in my estimation,” Windham said, and now his flash of anger was dark and intense, even if it was brief. “But she was hurt by finding out the truth in such a blunt manner.”
Vaughn bent his head. “Yes. I know. Perhaps I went too far. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”
“I suppose that’s understandable, considering the circumstances.” Windham sighed. “I think the family is only concerned that Evelina isn’t hurt further. Even a pretend liaison could cause very real pain.”
Vaughn lifted his brows. “Ah, so she told you about that, as well.”
He wasn’t sure what to think about that. It implied she was considering the notion, even if she had been hesitant about it a few days before. Why did that give him such a thrill? He knew he was being ridiculous to even suggest such an imprudent thing.
“I suppose,” Vaughn said slowly when Windham didn’t fill the gap in conversation, “that although I understand the concern of you and her sisters, I must point out that Miss Comerford…Evelina…is of sound mind and of age. I haven’t put pressure on her when it comes to the idea and I won’t irrespective of whether she reaches out to me about it or not, nor regardless if she refuses me or not. ”
“Ah, so it’s none of my business,” Windham said, a little hint of laughter in his tone.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But the answer is hers to give, if she is considering the suggestion.”
Windham sipped his drink, a troubled expression flickering over his face. “Well, she is, so that should lighten your mood. Only first she wishes to do something that I fear might be more foolish than taking up your idea at revenge.”
Vaughn wrinkled his brow, surprised by the concern that filled him at the statement. He had no real relationship with Evelina to worry about what she did and yet that was the emotion. “What do you mean?”
“She is reaching out to that poxy fuck Southwater and trying to discuss what he’s done to you both first. I suppose to give him a chance to prove he’s not a bastard of the highest order, even though he is most definitely that.”
Vaughn recoiled slightly at the idea of Evelina speaking to his former friend. “I don’t think she’ll like his answers.”
“Nor do I. But I’m more concerned about how he’ll behave if he’s alone with her. I suppose you’re biased, but do you think he could be…aggressive if directly met with accusations?”
It would have been easy for Vaughn to immediately say yes, to weaponize this man who looked like he knew exactly how to throw a punch against the friend who had betrayed him. But as much as he longed to do so, he found himself shaking his head.
“No. I cannot say he won’t be cruel. But I can’t picture him putting a hand on her. He’s a different kind of…what did you call him?”
“A poxy fuck,” Windham said easily.
“Yes, that fits nicely. Southwater is a different kind of poxy fuck than that.”
Windham’s brows lifted as if he were surprised Vaughn hadn’t given the worst possible version of Southwater. But then he nodded. “That’s good to know. She’s supposed to reach out to me when her meeting has been arranged so that I can be there just in case she needs protection despite your belief.”
Vaughn nodded, but he still felt more concerned about Evelina’s heart over her body.
The idea of directly addressing the person who had caused such pain sounded fine enough, but he knew from bitter experience that there would likely only be more heartbreak to come from it.
Southwater could be so cold, so hard, when he no longer cared about a person.
Vaughn had already seen Evelina crumple once.
Christ, she’d nearly been run down in the street because of it.
He hated to think of her doing the same again when the very man who had broken her spirit would get the pleasure of seeing her collapse.
“And now I think we’ve dug into this wound more than enough,” Windham said. “Why don’t we talk about something else? Do you still go to Ripley’s to box?”
“Yes, every Thursday morning like clockwork. It’s been a welcome release.”
“I’d say so. I think I’ll start going again now that I’m back in Town. My middle brother, Reg, goes and cannot stop talking about it.”
They continued the conversation about the boxing club and its owner and Vaughn was happy for such normalcy. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Evelina and her plan to speak to Southwater.
Perhaps he should call on her. Try to dissuade her. After all, he already knew the cost of such a thing, why shouldn’t she be helped so she wouldn’t have to pay the same? He owed her that, perhaps, after being the one to spring the awful truth on her.
* * *
Evelina paced her parlor floor, alternating wringing her hands before herself and smoothing her skirt over and over. She kept glancing at the clock, counting down to the time she was waiting for and the arrival she anticipated. Harry would be here soon.
She had dressed for battle, of course. She’d learned that from Simone Stanhope and Arabella over the years.
Her fashionable and somewhat revealing green gown was cut to perfection to remind a man what he’d once had and lost. Her hair was exactly as he’d liked it best. She even wore a piece of jewelry he’d once given her, a jade amulet that hung between her breasts to draw the eye.
It wasn’t seduction. No, that was a different kind of war paint. Today she dressed for regret. To remind him of his if he felt any part of it.
A carriage turned into her drive and she caught her breath. He was early, which was against his character. Harry was never early, which could only mean he was anticipating this meeting as much as she was. She hated that the fact gave her hope. She wasn’t trying to reunite with the man, after all.
After a moment, there was a light knock on the door and she clutched her hands together as the butler, Parsons, stepped in. “You have a visitor, Miss Comerford.”
“Show him in!” she gasped out without waiting for further announcement.