Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
No dinner had ever dragged on quite so relentlessly, course after course being set before the guests until, at number nine, most of the table were beginning to look somewhat uncomfortable.
Conversation had dwindled, several people kept checking the clock on the mantelpiece, and any celebratory air had long been forgotten, regardless of how frequently the servants refilled glasses with wine.
Hugo had not taken his eyes off Evelyn the entire time, though she had not sought his gaze once. She had picked at her food, leaving most of it, but she still managed to have the look of someone who felt rather unwell.
Holding his belly, Josiah Bartlett lurched to his feet and raised his glass in the air. “I would like to profess my gratitude for your presence this evening, to celebrate the engagement between my daughter and Lord Hemstich.” He paused. “To their… happy union.”
“To their happy union,” the table chorused back in a weary drone, lifting their glasses.
Hugo did not say the words, but he did raise his glass, willing Evelyn to look at him. Instead, her head was bowed, her chin to her chest, staring blankly at her practically full plate of raspberry tart.
“If everyone would like to make their way into the drawing room, there will be games and refreshments,” Josiah continued, to the accompaniment of hastily scraped chairs and sighs of relief.
Hugo had no doubt that at least half of the guests would try to make their excuses and leave early, and in the chaos, perhaps he would be able to steal his moment alone with Evelyn.
As such, he made sure that he was one of the last to leave the dining room, hanging back with Octavia and Selina, as he kept Evelyn in his periphery.
She, too, seemed to be taking her time, not that her father, her brothers, or her betrothed seemed to notice. They strode on ahead without her, before the baron doubled back to fetch his mother and help her out of her chair. He did not, however, offer the same courtesy to Evelyn.
“This is your chance,” Selina whispered. “Do not waste it.”
Grabbing Octavia, she hurried out of the dining room and, almost as an afterthought, closed the door behind her. Leaving Evelyn and Hugo alone in the dining room together.
“What is going on?” Evelyn asked, frowning at the closed door. “Why did she do that?”
Hugo put his hands up, keenly aware that she would have to go through him to exit the room. “Just give me a moment of your time, Evelyn. Please.”
From outside the dining room, there came the sound of a woman’s voice insisting, “No, no, tend to the guests in the drawing room first. We can clear the table after everyone has gone.”
Hugo did not recognize the voice, but it was something of a blessing.
“Please, Evelyn,” he repeated, gazing at her in earnest. “If you do not like what I have to say, I shall not stop you from leaving.”
Evelyn took a hesitant step forward. “And if I do not want to hear what you have to say?”
“I will stand aside,” he promised. “But I am asking you to… just grant me a moment.”
Her gaze flickered to the door and back to Hugo, a deep breath making her chest rise and fall. “Very well, but not here.” She furrowed her brow. “I do not know what you have done to rope my friends and Margery into this, but… I cannot speak to you here.”
She turned and headed for a narrow door to the right of the room, opening it wide. It appeared to be a servants’ corridor of some kind and, as she cast a pointed look at Hugo, he did not hesitate to walk to where she waited.
Through a brief labyrinth of narrow passages, the corridor finally spat them out at the rear of the house. An annex of sorts with three doors branching off. Evelyn chose the one straight ahead, Hugo’s eyes widening in pleasant surprise as he was hit by a sudden gust of cool night air.
A paved terrace jutted out ahead, before descending into a long, lawned garden, dew winking in the moonlight.
“In truth, I needed some fresh air,” Evelyn said, stepping out into the gloom.
Hugo walked out with her, though he kept a polite distance. The terrace stretched away to the right, forming a border to the rooms at the rear of the townhouse. He could hear the muffled sound of the party from somewhere within, and wondered which window belonged to the drawing room.
With a heavy sigh, Evelyn lowered herself onto an old bench, shadowed by the canopy of a hawthorn tree.
“You have my attention,” she said, her voice so hollow that it wrenched at Hugo’s heart.
Taking a breath, he moved closer, and sank down onto his knees before her, reaching for her hands. At first, he thought she would refuse his touch, pulling her hands away, but she did not resist, a deep frown forming upon her brow as she held his intense gaze.
“Evelyn,” he began softly, his eyes flitting to the necklace at her throat, letting it encourage him.
“Evelyn… I came to a realization after you departed Ashcroft, and though I should have told you when I came to this house the other day, I could not find the words nor entirely understand what it was that I was feeling. It was only after speaking to Octavia that I figured it out. I hope you will forgive me for not knowing sooner that I… I love you, Evelyn.”
A breathy gasp escaped her lips, her fingers suddenly gripping his tighter. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated with a smile. “I have loved you for some time. And though you are engaged to someone else, I want to ask you to break that engagement so that I may stand at your side in a church, at the altar, before God and our friends, to pledge myself to you as your husband instead.”
Her eyes were so wide that he could see the whites, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ of shock.
“I want to marry you, Evelyn,” he continued. “I want to marry the woman that I love, if you will have me?”
“But… but what about Selina?” Evelyn blurted out, now gripping his hands so tightly that it felt like she was trying to break his fingers. “I… I… I thought you would have proposed to her on your final outing, or… a proper courtship at least. No… oh, no, I cannot betray her like that!”
He chuckled softly. “She has given her blessing. Indeed, she will be waiting anxiously, at this very moment, for news of our engagement.” He paused.
“She is not interested in me. I am not interested in her. My heart is entirely yours, Evelyn. It could never be anyone but you. But of course, if you do not feel the same, then I shall not trouble you again.”
“She… has given her blessing?” Evelyn croaked, the glint of tears shining in her eyes.
Hugo nodded. “She wants you to be happy. Apparently, she only decided to entertain things with me, in the end, because she had come to realize that you were right about some gentleman or other.” He squeezed her hands.
“But now, she is most eager for you to be a duchess, if that is what you might want.”
“She has ended things with Sir Anthony?” Evelyn almost sounded more excited about that than the proposal Hugo had just made.
“I believe so.”
A wide smile broke across her face, her eyes alight. “Thank goodness for that! Oh, thank goodness.” She gulped in great, frantic breaths. “And you are certain she has given her blessing?”
“I would not begin our life with a lie, my love,” he promised, getting a little anxious now.
“Then there is nothing to hold me back,” she whispered, leaning closer to him. “Oh, Hugo, I would love nothing more than to be your wife. I have not been able to take your necklace off, for I thought it was the last piece I would ever have of you. I… I love you. My goodness, I love you!”
He had wished for this, imagined this, hoped for this, and yet it still shocked him when her confession came. It was like getting everything he had ever wanted, all at once. Something he would not usually have trusted, but he trusted every word of what she said.
Swept up in the overwhelming joy of hearing her say that she loved him too, he leaned in, freeing one of his hands so he might cradle the side of her face, feeling the warmth of her cheek, and kissed her.
The first graze of his mouth against hers was a thing of magic and wildfire, his veins coursing with an inferno of absolute devotion.
He heard her soft, muffled gasp and smiled against her mouth, kissing her again, showing her how.
He had not thought about the fact that she had likely never kissed anyone before; he had only thought of being the one to kiss her, sealing their confession of love.
She moved further into the protection of his body, almost tipping off the edge of the bench, and as her arms looped around his neck, she kissed him back.
A tentative, curious kiss that made him smile all the more as his arm locked around her waist, holding her flush against him while his thumb brushed her cheek and his lips caught hers once more.
There in the shadow of the hawthorn, she grew in confidence, matching the slow, sensual pace of his kiss, settling into a passionate ebb and flow.
A quick study, but then what else had he expected from someone who had educated herself in all things, all by herself?
Indeed, this was nothing compared to learning how to ride a horse or shoot well.
Their kiss deepened, his arm holding her even tighter, his breath ragged as her fingertips slid into his hair, her touch tingling against the nape of his neck.
This was far more than he could have hoped for, a kiss so wondrous, so magical that it made him all the more certain that they had always been destined for one another.
I could kiss you forever… and I shall, now that you have said yes.
He pulled back, meaning to tell her that, but the moment he broke the kiss, it was like a spell coming undone.
All at once, the soaring joy that had existed upon Evelyn’s face just a moment ago, contorted into an expression of sheer panic. Her hands no longer gently caressed his neck, but gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his skin.
“But what am I to do about the baron?” she rasped, naming her obvious fear. “What am I to do about my father? He will be furious. He will never allow it. Oh goodness, he will refuse just to spite me; I know he will!”
Hugo kept his arm around her and held her gaze, his thumb continuing to stroke the apple of her cheek. “I will contend with all of it, my love,” he promised. “You do not need to worry about anything. I mean to marry you, my love, and we shall be married.”
“What if you cannot convince him? What if…”
He pulled her into his embrace, his hand cradling the back of her head as he murmured soothing sounds against her hair, kissing those soft, silky locks.
“All will be well, love,” he promised. “All will be well. You never have to think of the baron again, and when we are married, you need never think of your father again.”
She relaxed in his arms, burying her face in his neck as she clung to his lapels, tucking herself in tight against him, safe within his embrace. A short while later, her breathing eased, and he could almost feel the panic leaving her body.
Alas, it was not destined to last long, as the echo of footsteps suddenly shattered the stillness of the darkened garden corner, and a grim voice hissed, “What is the meaning of this?”