Chapter Twenty-Three
“Hello? Robert? Sarah?” Then, with a bit more trepidation, “Wright?”
It was Evelyn.
Marcus’s heart tightened. Despite the circumstances, he smiled. He emerged from the shadows and returned to the kitchen, with no attempt to disguise his presence.
Evelyn turned about at the sound of his approach, her dirt-smudged cloak spinning in a wide arc behind her.
“Oh,” she breathed. “You’re here. I didn’t think you’d be—”
“Down here?” he said fondly as he reached for her, gathering her up against him.
She did not protest, and folded against his chest with relief.
“Did Dolly wander off?”
“Oh,” she repeated, pulling back with a confused look until she realized what he meant. “No, she was—is—just outside the door. I suppose I didn’t… well. I was only thinking you’d be in the drawing room with…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes fell upon his hands, as if she’d only just realized he held her in an embrace.
Gently she pulled further back, but this time Marcus held tight.
“With your father, you mean?” His voice was soft. “Raging over Mrs. Wolfenden’s indiscretions?”
She looked away.
“Evelyn, darling,” he breathed.
He felt her stiffen at the endearment, and he felt a lurch in his gut. But he pressed on. Tenderly, with one finger on her chin, her turned her head back to face him.
“You think I would just burst in and begin flinging accusations about?”
“Yes.” She blinked. “You’ve no finesse about these sorts of things.”
Though her words were blunt, he could hear the hesitation in her voice. He felt hope rising in his chest.
“Christ, but you’re gorgeous,” he said as pulled her closer, his breath coming more rapidly. “Especially when you’re dressing me down.”
She pursed her lips as if to protest, but he leaned in and captured them with a demanding kiss. He should have kissed her the moment she’d stepped into the stables. He should’ve taken her like this, warming her with his lips, loosening her with his embrace. She crushed against him, all of her stiffness dissipating, leaving only her soft curves and wanting mouth. Marcus clutched at her as if she were a dream, a mirage that might disappear if he relaxed his hold even the slightest amount.
When her hands dug into his shoulders, he nearly moaned out loud into her mouth, nearly lifted her up from wanting. But then he remembered where they were, and why. He slowed his kisses, and with the full extent of his willpower he reluctantly retreated.
“I’ve some finesse about these sorts of things, though, wouldn’t you say?” he murmured, one hand massaging the back of her neck.
When she flushed, he felt powerful enough to bring down the walls of the venerable manor with merely a word.
“Render honor to whom honor is due, dearest wife. You caught me in the midst of my investigation, attempting to ferret out our Mr. Wright.”
She nodded. “And Selina,” she added pointedly.
Marcus frowned. “You still believe her to be the instigator?”
Evelyn dropped her gaze to his hand upon her arm. “I’m… I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I don’t understand why he’d risk his position and income, risk forfeiting everything. He’s never been anything but upstanding and reliable.”
Marcus sighed and plucked another burr from her cloak.
“In this instance, I’d suppose he thinks he could use this to extort enough money to make it worth the trouble.”
“No.” Evelyn pulled back slightly, but did not release him. “I don’t believe it.”
They were still clutching at one another when the door opened once more.
Wright stood in the doorway, Mrs. Wolfenden on his arm.
“Selina?!” Evelyn gasped, breaking free of her husband’s embrace and taking several steps toward her sister-in-law.
Selina quickly let go of Wright’s arm, guilt splashed across her face.
“Evelyn,” Selina said, her voice strident as she whipped her head from Evelyn to Marcus. “Mr. Hartley? Why, whatever are you doing here?”
“We’re here to ask the same of you. If you’ll recall, I forbade you from riding out from the lodge,” Evelyn said, her tone as cold and sharp as a blade of steel.
Selina’s eyes widened, then dropped, taking in Evelyn’s disheveled appearance.
“Goodness—what’s happened to you? You look an awful fright.” She shot an accusing glare at Mr. Hartley. “How did this happen?”
“By my own negligence, I suppose,” Evelyn said, one eyebrow arched. “I saw a rider behaving recklessly in the distance and I gave chase. Perhaps a bit too carelessly,” she added, with a gesture to her soiled garments.
“Oh.” At that, Selina cowed, her posture deflating. “I see.”
Evelyn felt her husband step forward alongside her. He placed one strong hand upon her shoulder, and blast it, but Evelyn wished to lean back into him, to rest her head against his chest. She suddenly realized she was exceedingly weary of everything.
And so, when he spoke, she closed her eyes, finding relief in his smooth, dulcet tones.
“I would have a word with you, Mr. Wright. If you’d allow us, Mrs. Wolfenden.”
Evelyn opened her eyes to see the unflappable butler, who’d solved her every problem for the past fifteen-odd years, pale and tight-faced, as if he’d eaten something that disagreed with him.
“No!” Selina screeched, sounding like a banshee as she flung an arm out before the butler, as if to shield him.
“Of course,” Wright said, maneuvering easily around Selina’s arm without sparing even a glance for her.
Her heart racing, Evelyn looked up to her husband. He stood firm, his face clouded with anger, and she couldn’t help but think how devastatingly handsome he was just then. She drew in a steadying breath, unsure of what would happen.
“Your resignation shall be tendered before his lordship sits down to supper,” Mr. Hartley said calmly, but with a quiet authority.
“Of course, sir,” Wright responded, unwilling to look up and meet their eyes.
“And,” Mr. Hartley continued slowly, “it is understood that not a word will escape your lips in regard to Mrs. Wolfenden. Ever.”
At this, Wright looked up, a gleam of malevolence in his eyes. Evelyn suppressed a gasp.
“Not ever, sir?” Wright’s upper lip curled. “And how much is silence worth to the family, then?”
This was enough for even Selina to gasp. “Herbert!” she exclaimed with a pained wail.
Wright’s name was Herbert? Evelyn frowned. It did not suit him in the least.
“Aha,” Mr. Hartley said, in the manner of someone confirming what they had suspected all along. “It’s money, then, that you were after?”
The mention of money made Evelyn want to cover her face, but she could not look away from the disaster unfolding before her. Wright flexed his hands into fists and turned his head in Selina’s direction. But he would not look her in the eye. Nor Evelyn, it seemed.
“I thought…” Selina whispered, then clapped her mouth shut and turned away, her eyes glistening.
Oh dear. It hadn’t been Selina after all. Evelyn had been wrong about the whole affair from the start. Selina’s shoulders began to shake, but still Wright did not move. Finally, Evelyn could take it no longer, and she went to her sister-in-law.
Selina jumped at her touch, then swatted her away, but Evelyn would not be deterred. She gathered her into her arms, even as her cheeks burned at the distressing scene unfolding.
“How could you?” she snapped at the butler, as Selina sobbed into her shoulder.
Wright narrowed his eyes at Evelyn. But then Mr. Hartley loudly cleared his throat, and Wright thought the better of responding to her, redirecting his ire toward her husband instead.
“What is anyone ever after, if not money?” he spat.
At that moment, Sarah, the scullery maid, returned, a crystal glass in one hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. She froze in the hallway, her eyes darting about the room, from Evelyn and her comforting arm about the wailing Selina, to the standoff between an antagonistic Wright and the steadfast Marcus.
Marcus, she said to herself, her heart skipping a beat. An ancient, noble name. Her cheeks flushed as she worried that others might have somehow heard her thoughts.
“Ma’am?” Sarah said meekly to Evelyn. And then to Marcus, “Sir?”
“Ah, thank you very much—just the thing after a long ride.”
Her husband took the bottle and tumbler from the stunned maid, then poured himself a generous portion. Setting the bottle upon the butcher’s block behind him, he threw back the glass, consuming its entire contents in one pull.
“We were just drinking to Mr. Wright’s new position, as it were,” he explained, pinning the butler with a deathly serious glare.
Sarah’s eyes widened.
Selina’s sobs halted abruptly; she broke free from Evelyn, then turned away and folded into herself.
It felt as though everyone in the room, and indeed the house itself, held their breath. The very air crackled with dislike, anger, and disappointment.
Evelyn could not fathom it. Wright! Wright, who had once chased a bird from the yellow bedroom. Who possessed such a soft and yielding footfall as he moved about the manor. Who had so delicately informed the assembled family of Edmund’s passing.
The last of those memories was the most galling. Had he been carrying on with Selina even then? Evelyn felt overwhelmed, unable to make heads or tails of anything. Anger rose within her, tightening her throat. She must release them all from this misery.
“Please, take the evening to pack,” she said to Wright. “Sarah, inform Mrs. Marsh that Wright will be leaving us this evening. Perhaps Robert might take over his duties for the moment.”
The scullery maid gave a brief nod before turning tail and escaping.
Evelyn lifted her chin. “And as for the question of…” She paused and swallowed, her eyelashes fluttering in distaste over what she was about to say. “Compensation. You will be paid the rest of the month’s wages. Nothing less, nothing more.”
“Are you so sure about that, Miss Wolfenden?” Wright charged forward, brushing past Selina without even a glance.
“It’s Mrs. Hartley,” Evelyn said. “And I certainly hope you’re not suggesting anything untoward. It would be a…” She was scrambling now, searching for information and words she wasn’t sure she even possessed. But she maintained her bluff, bolstered by the righteous anger coursing through her veins. “A problem, I’m sure, if someone were to catch wind of your attempts to bribe a member of Parliament. A problem of larger… national interest. Wouldn’t you think?”
Wright froze. He looked warily at Mr. Hartley.
Selina sniffled.
“No,” the butler finally said. “I don’t believe you. You Wolfendens,” he scoffed. “You’re all woolly-headed, dumber than a bag of—”
He never had a chance to finish the insult. For Mr. Hartley punched him, square on the jaw.
Wright stumbled backward, hissing a string of curses. Selina shrieked and ran to him, but he batted her away, causing her howls to intensify as he jilted her yet again.
“Marcus!” Evelyn exclaimed, appalled. “You hit him! The situation called for nothing so… ludicrous and… impertinent and… violent as that and… and…” Her hands fluttered about, not knowing where to rest or what to do.
Thankfully, her husband did. Without taking his eyes from the retreating form of Wright, he reached for her, tugging her up alongside him and placing a kiss atop her head. There was a time when Evelyn would have rather died than be handled so familiarly, especially in the presence of others. Now she wasn’t quite sure that she hadn’t died already, with the nonsensical events of the past hour being her own private purgatory.
“Of course it did,” he said cheerfully, even as Selina continued to weep openly. “For you just called me by my name. And if this is what had to happen to bring that about, then so be it.”
He punctuated his glib statement with another kiss, this one rudely loud against her cheek. Evelyn huffed in irritation. But inside, that familiar warmth was spreading. She felt pride. And, dare she say it, affection.
And then, suddenly, pressure began building around her eyes. No. She would never. Not like this. Not here. Not ever. Desperate to stop it in its tracks, she quickly wriggled away from his hold and returned to Selina’s side.
Wright had slunk away, hopefully to begin packing his things. Evelyn prayed she would never set eyes upon him again.
Reaching within her skirts, she withdrew a neatly folded handkerchief; truly, it was the only tidy thing about her at the moment.
“Hush now,” she tried, patting Selina’s back. She felt so strangely incapable, but still she continued. “All will be well.”
Selina held the handkerchief up between her eyes, shielding herself from Evelyn’s sight.
“How can it? Edmund is dead,” she whispered.
Evelyn did not know what to say to that.
Selina crumpled, falling upon her sister-in-law. Evelyn pressed her lips in a line. She looked up to her husband, standing several steps away.
What was that look upon his face? Sympathy? Or was it something deeper, more emotional? Evelyn did not know. She slid one arm around Selina while still holding his gaze, unable to look away.