Chapter 14
An Unavoidable Appointment
Oliver Hartwell, Duke of Statony, received the news that his sister would marry that very morning with admirable serenity.
And admirable, in that case, meant that he broke nothing. Such haste, after she had arrived home looking like… like… For God’s sake, she was his sister! Arden must have restrained himself until after the wedding.
Eveline suspected that Alice had had a great deal to do with that restraint, for the duchess remained beside him throughout the explanation, a hand resting on his arm.
She also considered that Nathaniel, on returning her home the night before, had told Oliver—when the two of them shut themselves in his study after the announcement of a quick wedding—enough of what had happened at Tentwall’s house to justify the hour, the carriage, and his own jaw hardened once more, though without going into details that might oblige her brother to go out into the street with pistols.
He assured him that he had dealt with Tentwall and that the matter was settled forever.
And so the wedding preparations began in great haste.
The blue drawing room of Statony’s London residence had been arranged for a small, very private ceremony.
There were no excessive garlands or a crowd of guests eager to examine the bride with accusing eyes.
Only fresh flowers, a table with the Reverend Elwick’s book, several chairs occupied by those who truly mattered, and a clean light that came in through the windows to settle over the pale carpets.
Eveline stopped at the threshold.
For the first time in many days, she had no wish to flee. She was sure Nathaniel was the man she had always awaited.
She wore a gown of pink muslin that Alice had declared appropriate, becoming, and discreet enough not to let Arden grow difficult about matters of decorum early in the morning.
In truth, none of them had realized before how jealous the earl was.
Her hair, gently pinned up, let a few curls fall beside her face.
‘Breathe. Everything has turned out well now,’ Alice murmured at her side.
‘Yes. I have no reason to be nervous.’
‘You are a radiant bride, Eveline,’ the duchess observed as she wiped a tear from her eyes.
That managed to draw a smile from her.
Alice squeezed her hand.
On the other side of the room, Oliver waited by the hearth with a severe face.
He did not seem displeased, only a man obliged to hand his sister over to another and resolved to show that he did it of his own will, though those involved knew that this will had required several private conversations, a fistfight, and a conjugal effort on Alice’s part to appease him.
Beside him stood Nathaniel.
Eveline saw him, and the rest of the room lost part of its sharpness.
He was an earl from head to toe. A real man.
Arden was dressed in dark, looking impassive and devoid of emotion.
He wore his ash-blond hair combed with great care.
His gaze, however, betrayed him the moment he saw her appear.
He looked at her with such devotion that Eveline’s fingers loosened on the bouquet of violets Alice had placed in her hands.
Fresh violets, yes, because he had sent them again before nine.
Along with some lemon drops. She was sure that one day Statony and Arden would take pride in having had short courtships in which they scarcely suffered, and that her earl would remind her that he had needed only two days—one less than the duke—to marry her. Men!
Nathaniel did not smile on seeing her.
He was not a man given to easy smiles, but his eyes expressed enough for her to feel butterflies in her stomach.
The duke approached his sister.
‘Eveline.’
She raised her chin out of pure instinct.
‘Oliver.’
The duke studied her closely, and the lovely bride saw the pride of a brother who had tried to protect her with all his might without understanding her for far too many years.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘And if I were not?’ she dared to question.
The duke let out a slow breath.
‘Arden would kill me for whisking you out of here, but I would do it anyway. I have always wanted you to find your way. You know that I love you, do you not?’
‘That has never been in doubt. You know that I love you too, do you not?’ She copied the same formula back to him.
He nodded.
‘No man could ever deserve you, Eveline, but I think Arden comes very close. You have chosen well. ’
‘Yes, indeed I have,’ she agreed, without taking her eyes off the earl, who was also watching her.
‘He looks nervous. I think he is afraid you will run off. ’
‘He knows I will never leave his side. ’
‘If you ever anger him enough that he leaves you wrapped in a blanket inside a basket at my door, I will return you to him at once. Now that I am about to be rid of you…’
‘Oh, Oliver!’ she exclaimed, interrupting him.
‘Have I upset you by joking?’
‘Certainly not!’ she hastened to say. ‘It is only that I cannot believe you have changed so much. Alice worked a miracle with you. You stopped being cold and grumpy; now you even allow yourself to make jokes, however questionable. Who would have imagined it?’
The duke smiled at her tenderly.
‘You will always be able to count on me, Eveline. It is the promise I made you when you were left alone without father or mother, and I will keep it to my last breath. ’
‘Oliveeer…’ she complained. ‘Do not make me cry…’ The duke held out a handkerchief to her, and she wiped her eyes.
He looked at her again.
‘I am satisfied and I am happy because you have found happiness,’ Statony noted with decision.
‘Thank you, my dearest brother.’
They both looked at Nathaniel, who went on watching her with a patience so taut it seemed about to snap.
‘Now let us go in so that you may marry, my dearest sister, before your betrothed decides to come and fetch you himself.’
Alice let out a soft laugh behind them.
The walk to the center of the room was brief, though to Eveline it seemed eternal. She was going to marry the most improbable man in the whole kingdom, and her joy was immense.
Oliver gave Eveline’s hand to Nathaniel, though he did not release it at once.
‘Arden,’ said the duke.
‘Statony.’
In that exchange of titles there was a whole friendship, several reproaches, a moderately civilized threat, and an acceptance neither of them would have known how to put into words without feeling very uncomfortable.
‘Take care of my sister.’
Nathaniel held his gaze.
‘With my life,’ he assured him.
Oliver closed his eyes for an instant. For some reason he could not release Eveline’s hand. Alice, as foresighted as she was, touched her husband’s shoulder. The duke opened his eyes and looked at his duchess.
‘Alice, are you sure this is a good idea? She is my little sister and I—’
‘I know, my love. You have taken good care of her since she was given to you; it is time to let Arden look after her. He will do it well; we will always be there to make sure he does,’ she reassured him.
And only then did Statony consent to hand her over at last to his best friend.
The Reverend Elwick, who had officiated marriages, christenings, and funerals with less tension than that family gathering, cleared his throat prudently.
‘If Their Graces and the contracting parties are ready…’
‘We are ready,’ said Eveline.
Nathaniel laced his fingers with hers.
‘More than ready. I have spent a whole lifetime waiting for this moment.’
His thumb grazed the back of her hand once. A small gesture, but colossal for Eveline, for in that brief caress she found a promise clearer than any solemnity.
The reverend began to speak.
The clergyman’s voice filled the room. Eveline heard the usual words—duty, companionship, promise, fidelity—and discovered that they struck her as the most natural thing in the world, because Nathaniel would always be there for her.
For a long time she had feared that marriage would shut her into a life chosen by others, and that it would extinguish something of that part of herself that had always proved too reckless for the taste of men.
It was no longer so; it could not be when she trusted her husband with blind faith.
‘Nathaniel Anthony Greystoke, Earl of Arden,’ said the reverend, ‘do you take Lady Eveline Elizabeth Hartwell to be your lawful wife?’
Nathaniel did not take his eyes off her.
‘Yes, I take her. She is mine.’
There was no hesitation.
‘Lady Eveline Elizabeth Hartwell,’ the clergyman went on, ‘do you take Nathaniel Anthony Greystoke, Earl of Arden, to be your lawful husband?’
‘Yes, I take him. He is mine.’
Eveline felt a small squeeze of the hand he held. Then Nathaniel lowered his gaze to her mouth an instant before remembering where they were and who accompanied them. Eveline smiled. She liked that he could hardly control himself when she was near.
‘The ring,’ the reverend indicated.
Nathaniel took out a band of gold, simpler than the blue diamond that already shone on Eveline’s hand, but no less meaningful. That ring was not a promise of courtship, but the jewel that made her his wife. Then he placed it on the fourth finger of her left hand, just as the marriage rite required.
The reverend continued.
The final words came, and she felt an unfamiliar peace, full of promises, small future arguments, shared nights, and a love that had taken far too long to come to light.
‘You may kiss the bride,’ said the Reverend Elwick.
Oliver let out a very clear sound.
Alice touched his arm to calm him.
‘She is his wife; he may kiss her now, Oliver. God permits it. ’
‘I suppose that, as always, you are right, my love, though that does not make me comfortable with the situation.’
Nathaniel looked at Eveline.
He did not kiss her at once. That kiss was going to be different from the ones they had shared, and he wanted to do it well.
He grazed her cheek with his fingers, asked her permission with his gaze, and when Eveline smiled, he kissed her.
It was a brief kiss, out of respect for the family present and perhaps out of love of life, given Oliver’s state, but it did not prove cold. Nathaniel kissed her with such tenderness that Eveline shivered.
When they drew apart, he rested his forehead on hers for an instant.
‘At last you are Lady Arden, my countess,’ he whispered.
The newly married woman smiled more broadly.
‘And you are my perfect earl. ’
‘Eveline, I am very happy.’
‘So am I.’
The couple would never have parted, but Alice approached before Statony could draw them apart in the name of decorum, and embraced her carefully.
‘Welcome to married life,’ she said in her ear. ‘From now on, when Arden drives you to distraction, remember that you can always come to share confidences with me. We will take tea, talk of how insensitive our husbands are, and then give thanks for having married them.’
Eveline let out a peal of laughter.
‘That sounds amusing.’
‘Being married to the right man is wonderful, I guarantee it. ’
Oliver embraced his sister afterward.
‘Be happy,’ the duke told her.
Then he held out his hand to Arden.
‘Make her happy. ’
‘You have my word that she will be. ’
‘I know. Otherwise I would never have given her to you. ’
‘You would never have let me have her, had she not chosen me, my friend,’ he suggested gently.
‘It is true. ’
The two friends shook hands again and smiled.
The congratulations were followed by a wedding luncheon served in the dining room, which little Henry joined, claiming Lady Arden’s attention more than Nathaniel would have liked. Would that fervent need he felt for her ever pass? Soon they would have children, and she would be a wonderful mother.
Later, when the breakfast was over, Eveline lingered a moment by the dining-room window.
Nathaniel approached from behind.
‘Lady Arden.’
She closed her eyes on hearing it.
‘It sounds strange.’
‘It sounds perfect.’
‘It will take me a little while to get used to it.’
‘We have a whole lifetime.’
Eveline turned to him and circled his neck with her arms.
‘That sounded almost poetic.’
‘Do not tell anyone that my wife inspires me to become a poet.’
‘I will keep your secrets if you keep mine.’
Nathaniel’s expression softened.
‘Never hide from me. Neither you nor anything you do or say. Always trust me, just as I will trust you.’
The phrase made her remember something important.
‘I burned the letters without reading them again the moment I reached my room. They meant nothing. ’
‘I no longer care about the past. You are mine to love, protect, and understand. ’
Nathaniel lowered his head until he was very close to her ear.
‘I am longing to take you home. Shall we go now?’
‘To your house in the city or to Ardenmere?’
‘To the country, to Ardenmere. I have thought that a somewhat longer journey by carriage would do us good.’
Eveline felt the heat rise to her face, though she was no longer an innocent debutant or a young woman terrified of her own desire.
‘What exactly are you thinking of, husband?’ she asked, though she was still redder than a ripe tomato.
‘Of nothing you are not willing to grant me.’
‘Do you mean my favors?’
‘It could be,’ the earl said cautiously.
‘Good. Because I do not think I can wait long for you to make love to me. ’
‘Thank God…’ he murmured, as he lifted her into his arms, ready to carry her in great haste to his carriage.
And with that there began a promise of conjugal delight, where love would govern the welcome lust.