Chapter 27
EVELYN BLACKWELL
With a sigh, I fell down on my bed and gazed at the ceiling.
Blast Lieutenant Brookhouse and his foolish secret.
It wasn’t even his. Why hadn’t we stipulated during forfeits that he had to share his own secret?
If my time with Captain Calder became public knowledge, it could ruin everything for Harriet.
And I couldn’t ruin any more happiness for her than I already had.
I had no idea how long I lay there before the maid knocked.
I clenched my fists into the bed linens and bade her come in.
With a groan I pulled myself out of bed.
I usually spoke with Marianne while she readied me for the day or for bed, but tonight I didn’t have the energy.
I was quiet and compliant as she unfastened my dress, helped me into my nightrail, and then sat me on the chair in front of the mirror so she could brush and arrange my hair into one long braid.
I stared at my face as her fingers worked through my hair.
Hattie had been vibrant tonight. I felt gaunt.
I couldn’t bring myself to smile, even though I knew I should be happy for her.
No, I was happy for her. I’d loved seeing her excitement when she’d spoken about Captain Calder. She deserved that and more.
Marianne finished and bid me good night. I managed a quick good night in return and then fell back onto my bed, staring at a ceiling that was achingly absent of sky.
A scraping sound at my door made me sit up. I hadn’t bothered to blow out my lamp yet, and saw on the floor a small white slip of folded paper.
Someone had sent me a note.
That roused me.
I dashed to it and pulled it open, recognizing Hattie’s handwriting immediately.
Someone will be waiting for you in the library this evening after all is quiet. I won't be so foolish as to pen a name. Have a wonderful time with the best of company.
-H
I stared at the note, read it again, then even a third and fourth time, but the message didn’t make sense.
What in heaven’s name was Hattie thinking?
She had to be speaking of Captain Calder, but why, in the name of all that is holy, would she arrange a meeting for us late at night in the library?
I had one sentence to speak to him—one that could easily be whispered to him if we walked a pace or two away from everyone.
I didn’t need to meet with him alone in the library to tell him she wanted him to wait until at least the end of the house party for a proposal.
I read the note one last time, just to be certain it was indeed her handwriting and not some sort of trick being played on me. But I’d know it anywhere—we’d been corresponding ever since we learned to write.
I threw it into the fire, wishing I could burn away the frantic feeling that came with it. A note like this would damage even without a name. A meeting like this could ruin a reputation.
Why had Captain Calder agreed to it?
I glanced again in the mirror. There was color in my cheeks now—too much color. Was I really going to do as Hattie asked and meet with Captain Calder alone? In my nightrail? One encounter with Captain Calder late at night while in a state of undress should have been enough to last a lifetime.
He would never have agreed to such a thing.
Hattie must have deceived him. Was I about to ambush Captain Calder in the library while he waited for someone else—presumably Hattie—to arrive?
For heaven’s sake, Hattie, if you’d had taken the time to speak to him about meeting me, why hadn’t you simply told him your message then? Why did I have to be the one to do it?
My hand went to my hair. When he awoke that first morning—which now seemed ages ago—he seemed entranced by it being loose. I slid my fingers down the ridges of the plaits. I could undo my braid. After all, if I was going to meet with him, I shouldn’t go unarmed.
No. That was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. But it was hard not to be when Hattie had put me into such a ridiculous situation.
I glanced at my bed. I could lie down and accidentally fall asleep. If I missed this meeting, Hattie would have to tell him herself to wait a week for a proposal. Or not tell him. What harm could come from not telling him that? If he proposed now, who would that hurt?
Lieutenant Brookhouse?
I squeezed my eyes shut and kneaded my forehead. It couldn’t be because of Brookhouse. Harriet was too kind to engage the hearts of two men.
I stepped away from the mirror and grabbed my dark green dressing gown, throwing it over my shoulders and knotting it at my waist with quick, decisive movements.
I was tired of asking myself so many questions. I was General Blackwell’s daughter and this was my home. I wouldn’t remain a coward inside my room.
I cracked open the bedroom door and peeked out.
The corridor was empty. Holding my breath, I tiptoed to the stairs, my ears perked for any noise.
I’d walked these halls thousands of times, and hundreds of times at night just like this, and yet my foolish heart acted as though I was walking in front of the archery butts during target practice.
It pounded so hard my ears were vibrating.
I quickened my pace. The sooner this meeting was over, the better.
I made it to the library without incident. I slipped in and shut the door behind me. The drawn curtains sealed out the moonlight, and I hadn’t thought to bring a candle.
“Hello?” I whispered
Silence.
I’d arrived before the captain.
Hands shaking, I made my way carefully toward a window, moving each foot slowly. I knew the furniture in the room well, but in the dark I might mistake exactly where I was and walk right into a table or sofa.
I pulled open the curtain and a streak of moonlight slid across the floor. For the first time since I left my room, I allowed myself a deep breath.
Now to wait.
I glanced at the clock on the mantle and could just make out the time: 10:37. How certain was Hattie that Captain Calder would even come? I would give him twenty minutes to show up and then I would leave. I paced for a few minutes by the window and then thought better of being so conspicuous.
I moved to the bookshelves. The lighting was too dim to read the names on the spines but I ran my finger along them, letting the feel of the leather calm the tremor in my hands.
These books were the heart of Blackwell Manor.
They were one of the main reasons Papa bought the estate.
Almost all of the books had belonged to the previous owner and Mama liked to tease Papa and tell him he’d only purchased the estate because he wanted this collection.
The most expensive way to buy books, she would say.
I heard the doorknob turn, and like a fool, I dashed behind the edge of the bookshelf. I cursed myself the minute I did it. There was nothing wrong with me being in the library alone, and if anyone but Captain Calder came through that door, I would need to show myself as soon as possible.
I peeked my head out of my heading place. Captain Calder stood in the doorway, his large form silhouetted by the corridor candlelight behind him. He hadn’t changed, and his dark blue cavalry coat struck an imposing figure when framed so perfectly in the corridor’s light. I sucked in a breath.
He perused the room with the door open, his eye catching on the open curtain. “Hello?” he said, in almost the exact manner I had. Because what else could you say? If he called out my name, and someone else was in the room, they would know we planned to meet.
I stepped out from behind the bookshelf and our eyes met. His gaze traced a burning path down my face and along the length of my braid. When he took note of my dressing gown, he froze.
It was the same one I’d thrown over him when we were caught in the storm.
Heat rose to my face. I’d picked this one because my other dressing gown was white and I thought it would be more visible in the dark while I traversed the house. My heart, which had settled as I walked among the books, thrummed swiftly again.
He was looking at me much in the way he had when he first awoke in the croft—like I was some sort of specter, his woman in white, only this time, clothed in green.
My mind had never released me from the visions of that kiss, and seeing him like this, in the dark, alone, with his eyes tracing my face and hair, the feeling of his lips on mine returned full force.
I swallowed hard. He was to be the husband of one of my most favorite people in the world.
I had to stop reacting to him like this.
But also, should he be allowed to look at me like that?
My fingers curled around the edge of the bookshelf.
“Captain?” My voice wasn’t as steady as it should have been.
His eyes snapped back up to mine, and he held them there as he slowly and deliberately shut the door.
Well. That didn’t help my infuriatingly sporadic heart.
He strode forward with measured and sure feet, his eyes fixed on me and his face stoic. I fought the urge to step back when he stopped only a few feet in front of me. He searched my face again before finally lifting his lips into a smile.
And what a smile it was. The crinkles at the sides of his eyes spoke of our newly found friendship, and the deep lines on either side of his lips seemed to echo our times of rivalry.
He’d smiled at me before, sometimes forced and other times surprised, but never like this.
Never as if smiling at me were a habit he didn’t intend to break.
His hand lifted as if he were going to touch the tail of my braid but then he stopped himself. “Miss Pryor told me I should meet you here.”
Miss Pryor? He’d always called her Harriet when we’d spoken before, at least when we were alone. I swallowed hard and gave him a perfunctory nod. “I don’t know what she was thinking. If Mrs. Wickerton were to come upon us, she would definitely try to force a marriage.”
He tipped his head to one side. “This meeting is fairly far down on the list of reasons I should marry you.”