Thirty-seven
The cart bumped over a rut, and Evangeline scrambled to grab the side before she slid over the back edge. She and Uncle Charles had been riding all day in the bed with the supplies while Jonathan led the oxen.
She had only offered him a curt greeting that morning, and even though her uncle had explained about Jonathan’s broken betrothal, it didn’t soothe her pain. She had been falling in love with him, and he would be married to his first love if Farrin hadn’t forced him to leave her.
Her uncle shaded his eyes and turned to look ahead. “We’re close to Athens.”
She dropped her head, avoiding meeting his eyes. “I figured.”
She had overheard his discussion with Jonathan when they had stopped a few miles outside of the city to give the oxen a rest.
“Maybe you should listen to him,” she said. “If Jonathan knows of a safe house—”
“Lord Dominic would know about it, too.” He reached across the cart and patted her knee. “I’ll wait outside while the men talk. Sir Jonathan believes Lord Dominic will listen to reason. Besides, I need to see Regina. How is your sister truly?”
A rush of irritation flooded through her. “Happy with Xavier, but you know how she worries. This could send her spinning, and she’s pregnant. What if you had died and never returned to us? Do you have any idea how devastated we would be?”
He sighed wearily. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m in Athens for you girls. Farrin’s reign needed to end, and the Regent’s Consul needs to be disbanded. It served its purpose. Now it’s corrupted.”
She swiveled to face him. “It isn’t only Athens, Uncle Charles. All these years you endangered yourself. After what happened to our parents, I cannot understand how you could do this to us.”
“I did my best,” he said, lowering his head. “I asked Aunt Beatrice to stay with you. You girls needed a mother and stability that I couldn’t give.”
“You chose to be unstable. And you co-founded the Consul? Did you give any thought to us needing a father, too?”
“I never expected to become your guardian. My sister was younger and healthy. The Consul formed before you were born. If I’d known what the future held, I might have reconsidered, but there was a war. I did what I could to protect England.” Red bloomed in his face, his gaze searing.
She shrank back. Uncle Charles’s anger faded quickly, and he reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Vanna. I never meant to frighten you. Forgive me, please.”
His defeated expression pulled at her heart.
This was the beloved uncle who had taken her to the library to choose any book she wanted whenever she woke with nightmares.
He was the man who answered her questions with patience and hadn’t discouraged her from reading books most would deem inappropriate for a lady, much less a girl.
He had delighted in her curiosity and defended her when the groundkeeper complained about all the holes she left around the property.
She took his hand and held tight. “I want to go home.”
“As do I.” He scooted closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
She glanced behind her but couldn’t see Jonathan. Still, she whispered. “What if he won’t let us leave?”
“I will… handle him, if it comes to it.” His steely conviction made her shiver.
When the cart reached the steep streets of Athens, she and Uncle Charles hopped out to lighten the load and walked behind.
Instead of taking the cart to the front of the villa, Jonathan guided the oxen onto the service alley.
The three of them had finished unloading their supplies when a servant opened the gate.
Jonathan gave him orders in Greek, and the young man led the oxen away.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She spun around to discover Jonathan watching her.
“May we speak, Miss Darlington?”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She snatched up her bag of art supplies and marched through the open gate.
“Evangeline!” Regina hurried across the courtyard and threw her arms around her.
Evangeline dropped her bag to return the hug. “We found him. Uncle Charles is safe.”
Her sister pulled back. “Where—?” Her eyes rounded and she cried, “Uncle Charles!”
They were embracing when her great-aunt’s black poodle darted from the villa to jump on Evangeline’s legs. She gasped. Aunt Beatrice’s image blurred as tears filled Evangeline’s eyes.
“Cupid!”Aunt Beatrice snapped. “Down, you naughty boy.”
She was holding onto her sister Sophia’s arm to steady herself on the uneven rock. Crispin, Lord Margrave, was on Aunt Beatrice’s other side, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Joy, their lady’s maid, lingered in the doorway, clutching her hands at her waist.
A sob built in Evangeline’s chest, and she ran toward her aunt.
Aunt Beatrice opened her arms, wrapping them around her like a cozy blanket.
She was a young girl again, sobbing between bouts of spilling everything about Jonathan.
It was a jumble of words—love, lies, drumming…
Nothing but nonsense to anyone except herself.
“There, there, my sweet girl. Come out of the heat and tell me everything.”