Chapter Fifteen
Evangline stared at her reflection in the looking glass at her vanity table. At the moment, she was clad only in her shift, stays, and petticoat, for she’d lost interest in dressing. How had everything gone so wrong?
Last night had been passed in a restless state after Darkemore had revealed his secret.
Knowing that he’d only been using her for his own game had shocked her to her soul.
Had she felt disappointed? Of course, but thank goodness he hadn’t broken her heart, for she wasn’t in love with him.
However, her chest hurt and quick tears were ready in her eyes.
That’s how it was when one mourned for a dream that would never materialize.
Hadn’t she felt the same after losing both of her pregnancies?
After knowing she would never have love from Marklesfield?
Or the life she’d yearned for? And now it had happened again.
This time, it was the betrayal that stung the most, because she would have wagered coin upon the fact that the duke could have been brought ‘round.
Why couldn’t we have more time together?
Would it have made a difference? In truth, being in his company for longer would have made the pain worse. And by then, she would have been hopelessly besotted with him.
Yet…
A sigh escaped her, and even she could see the sadness in her eyes. There had been moments of tenderness and caring when they’d been together that didn’t align with his insistence that this had all been a game. She’d glimpsed a good heart beneath the darkness; that had to count for something.
“Your Grace?”
Evangeline glanced at her maid, Nancy. “Yes?”
“I have brought your gown. We should attend to your toilette, for His Grace will wish to leave for the opera soon.”
Only then did she notice the gown of red satin trimmed with gold stitching and lace draped over her maid’s arms. It was new and one she’d ordered from a popular modiste shortly after marrying the duke.
“Right.” She nodded as she stood up from the padded stool.
“The opera.” Briefly, she’d forgotten that was the last piece of his plan.
Earlier in the day, she’d had a letter couriered over to Lord Echerson asking him to meet her at the opera tonight.
It had pained her to write the words of the fiction Darkemore had instructed, but this was the only way to end this ridiculous remnant of the war, so be it.
Perhaps she could deflect her husband’s plan to kill the viscount, encourage him to turn Echerson over the proper authorities and let them puzzle out the viscount’s traitorous ways.
“The pair of you will make such a sensation tonight,” Nancy continued to prattle on as she helped Evangeline don the gown. “With your striking gown and his darkly good looks.” She tsked her tongue. “It’s a shame, though, his scars mar his features. He was no doubt once quite handsome.”
He still is that to me.
“Looks aren’t the only reason a man can be handsome.” While Nancy did up the few buttons on the back of the gown, Evangeline frowned at her reflection once more.
Tonight would mark the first time she and Darkemore would make an appearance in society as a married couple.
However, she was on edge due to their conversation from the night before.
If he were truly shunned by society at large, why did he even care about going about in it?
She stifled a gasp. Unless it was for her benefit, but the duke had betrayed her trust.
And he would kill the viscount tonight.
What a quagmire we’ve landed in.
When the door to the adjoining bedchamber opened and the duke stood in the frame, both she and Nancy stared at him.
Good heavens, he was easy on the eyes! In half dress, he wore his evening breeches and a fine lawn shirt as well as shoes.
Why? But it didn’t matter, for he stole her breath.
How much did she long to brush her fingertips over his brow and ease the shock of wayward hair back?
The duke set a thin, square, linen-covered box on the vanity. “Please leave us, Nancy. I will assist the duchess in the remainder of her toilette.” The pleasing deep rumble of his voice tickled through her chest.
“But I haven’t styled or set Her Grace’s hair yet,” the maid protested.
“If she has need of you, she can ring.” His tone brooked no argument this time.
“It’s all right, Nancy,” she said with a tight smile. “Thank you for your help with the gown.”
The maid bounced her gaze between them. Then she curtsied. “Your slippers are on the stool over there, and there are a pair of ruby-encrusted combs in the small box on the vanity.”
“You are quite efficient.” With a sigh, Evangeline followed the other woman to the door then gently closed the panel behind her. Only then did she acknowledge her husband’s presence. “Leave me alone, Michael. I’m still furious with you.”
“You have made that quite clear by ignoring me all day.” He leaned his cane against the vanity then slowly turned toward her. “Before you dress me down, let me say that I understand. However irritated you are at me, I’m even more so.”
At least he could admit to it, but she kept a fair amount of distance between them. “Would you have told me the truth earlier on, perhaps before we wed?”
“I’d considered it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
His shrug only lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t wish to muck up what we were building between us.” Silence fell between them while they stared at each other. “If I had, would it have made a difference?”
“I’m not certain.” If she’d known before the ceremony what he was planning, if she’d known what had transpired between him and Echerson…
What would she have done? Of course, it was simply horrible what the viscount had done to him, but what if the duke lied about that?
He’d already admitted to the fact that being a spy meant becoming someone else entirely.
And if he had lied, to what purpose? Confused and a bit saddened, she pressed her lips together.
“Why haven’t you finished with your own toilette? ”
A sheepish expression came over his face. “I couldn’t decide on a waistcoat… And, I, uh, well I’ve been worried about things between us.”
That caught her by surprise. Would a truly dark-souled man admit to that let alone be plagued with such emotions?
“Oh.” Why was he such a confusing, aggravating man?
“Wear a waistcoat that has a touch of red in it. Then you’ll match my gown.
” Did that mean she forgave him? There were no immediate answers.
“Thank you.” A slight hopeful light glimmered in his eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“For what you’ve done? What you will do?”
The duke shook his head. “No, I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you, that I’ve abused your trust in me.
” For the space of a few heartbeats, he rested his gaze on her.
“Most of my life, I have been alone. I had no siblings; they all died in infancy or very young. My father’s time and attention focused on duties to his title; Mama had her causes, friends, and charities.
And they were quite devoted to each other beyond that.
” His voice faltered. “When I joined the military, I felt as if I had a ready-made family of sorts… until the men discovered I would be a duke someday and they pulled away, felt we weren’t of the same class.
So when I became a spy, the solitary life that was forced upon me reinforced my belief that I would be alone for the duration. ”
The story, said so matter-of-factly, tugged at her heart. “Yet you fell in love.”
“Only to have that taken from me as well. Once more leaving me to find my own way.”
She couldn’t help but frown. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I assumed that was the path in life I was to take, the one I was destined to follow.” Confusion reflected in his eyes.
A muscle ticced in his cheek. Though his presence filled the room and commanded her attention, there was a certain hesitation in his bearing that gave her pause. “Then I happened upon you.”
A tremble went through her heart. “And?”
“And I had the thought that perhaps I wasn’t meant to remain alone after all.”
Heavy silence followed the statement.
It wasn’t a declaration of love or any sort of feelings, but it was more than she’d had from him before.
Blinking back tears, Evangeline nodded. “I appreciate your honesty.” Though her thoughts were in freefall and she couldn’t trust herself not to devolve into a silly goose in front of him, she padded across the floor to the tall, narrow bureau.
From one of the shallow drawers, she removed a length of cravat silk.
Only when she returned to where he stood did she speak again.
“I think it’s important that we are honest with each from going forward. Otherwise, nothing will work.”
He nodded while eyeing the fabric in her hand. “What do you intend to do with that?”
“Help you dress.” As she spoke, she wound the silk about his neck even though she was obliged to lift onto her toes because he was a half foot taller than she. “You’d left this in my room on our wedding night.”
“And you kept it?” His voice sounded choked.
“I did.” Concentrating on manipulating the cloth just right to create one of the more popular knots, she nodded. “For nothing else, I wanted to reinforce the memories it invokes.” Then she spread her palms over his shoulders. Good heavens but she adored how solid he felt.
“Is that all we’ll have together—memories?” Vulnerability shadowed his eyes. His muscles were taut and stiff beneath her fingertips.
Again, not a declaration, but that hint of longing in his expression continued to batter at the walls she’d erected after his confession yesterday. In that, there was a chance to grasp everything she’d ever wanted… but he needed to do his part in the work too.
“If we are fortunate, we will have more than that.” Slowly, she slipped one of her hands up his chest to curl about his nape.
“Just remember, you are not the same man you were in the past, regardless of what you think you should do.” With very little pressure, she tugged his head down, and when he fit his lips to hers, she sighed and unashamedly layered herself against him.
As a primal growl left his throat, the duke gathered her into his arms, and then he set out to apparently kiss her senseless.
He moved his mouth over hers with the intent to relearn every secret she held.
One of his hands cradled the back of her head, keeping her steady and trapped in the embrace, while his other hand slid to her arse as he pressed her close.
For the next few moments, Evangeline was lost in him.
As she curled her fingers into the fine lawn of his shirt, she chased his tongue with hers as she sought to connect with him on an even deeper level.
She wasn’t na?ve enough to believe that problems didn’t exist once the marriage vows were said; hadn’t her union with Marklesfield shown her that?
But she did hold hope that the challenges with Darkemore could be overcome if they were willing to work together.
Eventually, he set her away though desire still darkened his eyes. “I should go, but before I do, I’d like to give you something.”
“Oh?” Her balance was somewhat unsteady after that thoroughly satisfying kiss.
“I should have gifted it to you before, but time got away from me.” After retrieving the box from the vanity, he presented it to her.
“This parure matches your ring. It belonged to my mother, given to her by my father on their wedding day. I remember that she wore the jewelry every time they went out to a society event; she’d have no other collection even though he often gave her others. ”
When she opened the faded blue linen-covered lid and spied the glittering emerald collection, tears welled in her eyes. “It’s gorgeous.” Touching a fingertip to the largest cabochon of the necklace, she then glanced up into his face. “It’s far too valuable to give to me.”
“I suspect Marklesfield never spoiled you as you should have been, so this is my pleasure. Please wear the pieces whenever you see fit.”
“Of course I will.” No wonder his mother preferred this set over all others. “Thank you.”
The duke nodded. “I should seek out my valet and let you summon your maid to finish your toilette… unless you’d prefer I finish you in a more pleasurable way?” The blatant teasing in his voice coupled with the desire in his eyes sent a rush of heated tingles through her lower belly.
“Stop, Darkemore.” She briefly put her free palm to his chest, and the warmth of him seeped into her skin. “Perhaps later tonight, if we come home at a decent time.”
Was she a fool for not maintaining her distance from him, for wanting to trust him to do the right thing?
Perhaps, but then, if she didn’t give him a chance, who would?
Whereas her first husband was purely horrid, she’d glimpsed a redeeming quality within the duke, and she wanted to nurture it and see what came of it.
Only time would tell that story.