Chapter 12
Evelina conspicuously avoided meeting the gaze of her footman, specifically the one who had nearly encountered her in the tavern.
He had not acted strangely since their near-encounter in the tavern, so Evelina assumed that he had either not seen her or else had not recognized her that night.
Still, every time she crossed paths with him, a jolt of anxiety shot through her.
Her heart was in her throat by the time she found Mrs. Poleman, her housekeeper. Evelina’s fingers ached. She longed to fidget with her gown but forced herself to maintain the composure expected of a Dowager Countess of Thornwall. “Mrs. Poleman.”
The housekeeper, whose back had been to Evelina, started. “Your Grace,” she exclaimed, dropping into a practiced curtsey. “I apologize. I did not hear you enter.”
Evelina smiled awkwardly. “That is fine.” She paused, a knot of anxiety twisting in her chest. “I have a rather delicate matter which I wish to consult with you about.”
“Oh?”
Evelina swallowed hard. Perhaps it would have been better if she had not called the matter delicate from the start.
“I will have a guest this evening. He is…” Evelina trailed off, trying to find the most tactful and polite way to describe the Duke of Rothbury. “He is newly come to London and may not wish to have rumors spread of our encounter.”
Mrs. Poleman’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?” she asked.
“Yes.” Evelina paused, her face growing hot. “He will come to have some tea and conversation.”
“A conversation which he hopes no one else will speak of,” Mrs. Poleman said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I believe I understand.”
Evelina let out a small, anxious laugh. “No, it is—it is nothing untoward!”
Mrs. Poleman’s lips curved into a sly smile. “I never said it was, my lady. You are simply receiving a male visitor for a friendly conversation, and you do not wish to be disturbed because your guest is shy.”
Nothing untoward would occur, but hearing Mrs. Poleman say everything like that made it quite apparent why the housekeeper would believe otherwise. Evelina clasped her hands behind her back and considered if insisting upon her innocence would do more harm than good.
“I suggest the blue room,” Mrs. Poleman added. “It is a lovely room and quite away from prying eyes. Of course, I can also offer the staff an evening off. I am certain that most of them will wish to enjoy the town if given the opportunity.”
“That would be amenable,” Evelina said.
Giving the staff an evening off, so she could meet a male guest without his presence being noticed, sounded…salacious. More than salacious. Evelina remembered how His Grace’s lips had felt against her own, and she had to fight the impulse to flee from Mrs. Poleman and her fond, knowing look.
“When is this visitor to arrive?” Mrs. Poleman asked.
At that moment, a young maid, Emma, entered the room and curtsied. “A gentleman has arrived for you, my lady.”
Evelina inhaled sharply. “It is—he is early.”
Emma’s brow furrowed. “I have not said who it is—”
“I shall greet him,” Mrs. Poleman said, the picture of poise as Evelina emotionally floundered. “Emma, I trust that you can be discreet about our visitor’s presence. He is new to London and unaccustomed to the attention of the ton.”
Emma opened her mouth as if to protest, but Mrs. Poleman silenced her with a look.
“You may tell the staff that they have the rest of the evening off,” Mrs. Poleman said. “The lady wishes to retire early due to a headache, and she would prefer that the house be silent.”
If Emma had any further protests, Mrs. Poleman’s offer seemed to have assuaged them all. “Of course, Mrs. Poleman.”
The maid departed hurriedly, as if she feared that lingering might cause Mrs. Poleman to change her mind. Smiling brightly, Mrs. Poleman gestured towards the blue room. “I shall bring the gentleman to you, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Evelina said.
During the encounter with Emma, she had been lost for a moment, uncertain how to respond to the duke’s early arrival. Now, all her doubts and anxiety returned at once. She had an answer for him—of a sort.
Would it be enough? If he insisted that they make their unbreakable agreement that very night, with all the terms already drawn out, did she dare refuse?
As Evelina walked to the blue room, so named for the delicate blue and gold wallpaper, she thought of those unmarried young misses gathered around him.
His Grace had more options. If he was displeased with her, it would be but a small matter for him to find another woman to marry him.
Evelina entered the room and sat primly on the settee.
There would be ample room for him to drop onto the settee beside her and still a respectable distance between them.
Maybe he would not leave a respectable distance between them.
Her heart raced as she imagined the Duke of Rothbury looming over her, his breath warm against her face.
She should move to the chair. But perhaps he would take the chair?
Footsteps came from down the corridor, and Evelina rose. She had missed her opportunity to make a graceful retreat. As the duke entered, she rose and smoothed invisible wrinkles from her skirts. “Your Grace,” she said.
He inclined his head. “My lady.”
Mrs. Poleman stood behind him, her face the very picture of delight. “I shall return with tea,” she said.
Then, she was gone. Evelina was alone with the Duke of Rothbury once more. Her heart fluttered madly against her ribcage. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
“My lady. Shall we sit?”
Evelina sank onto the settee. She had not been alone in her house with a man since her husband died, and even though the man had been dead for some time, Evelina still found herself with the strange, curling sensation that he loomed over her, a specter that refused to be vanquished.
His Grace sat on the other end of the settee, and Evelina’s muscles tensed. She could not inhale without taking in the scent of his cologne. “You are early,” Evelina said.
The Duke of Rothbury smirked. “I confess that I could wait no longer.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
Silently, Evelina chastised herself for being unable to find something more eloquent to say.
“You have nothing to say?” His Grace asked.
Evelina forced a tentative smile. “I am certain I will think of something.”
The duke chuckled. “Could it be that you are still distracted by our kiss? Are you wondering if something like that might happen again tonight?”
“You are too bold, Your Grace,” Evelina said.
His eyes gleamed with amusement. “My boldness was often an asset in battle.”
“Was your rakish charm also an asset?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “However, I find it to be more useful in London than at sea. There were decidedly fewer ladies aboard my ship.”
“I imagine so,” she said.
His Grace glanced around him, as if seeing the room for the first time. “Do you often accept unchaperoned male visitors in this room?”
“I will not even dignify that question with a response. What manner of a woman do you take me for?”
“An unconventional one,” he replied. “Perhaps you have spent the past few days entertaining other options or attempting to seduce another man, as you did at the tavern that night.”
“No,” Evelina said. “I seldom host anyone, except for the ladies of the Corset Chronicles Club.”
His Grace raised a brow. “What is that? A gathering of bluestockings?”
“Something like that. We engage in intellectual conversations.” Evelina paused, considering him. “Sometimes, we bemoan the poor state of Englishmen.”
“Poor state?”
“Indeed. We spend a considerable amount of time condemning selfish, arrogant men who believe they are God’s gift to all women,” Evelina continued. “Being such a man—”
“My lady!” His Grace interrupted, laughing. “What an unkind insinuation to offer a man who has approached you with only noble intentions!”
“Noble intentions?” she asked. “You have sworn to lay with me as often as is needed to produce an heir! That does not sound like a man who has only noble intentions.”
“No?” he asked, leaning nearer to her.
His Grace’s eyes darted down. Was it her imagination, or was he looking at her lips? Evelina’s pulse quickened as he drew nearer and nearer. When he was a hairsbreadth away, her lips parted. She waited for him to kiss her, a knot of anticipation in her chest.
Instead, he laughed. The Duke of Rothbury drew back, smirking. “I believe it is you who has ignoble intentions, my lady,” he said. “Look at you—trying to kiss a man to whom you are not even wed!”
He was mocking her. Evelina’s face burned as if she had been dropped into a furnace. Only Mrs. Poleman’s timely arrival with tea gave Evelina sufficient time to recover. She needed to seize control of this situation.
Evelina straightened her spine and primly poured herself a cup of tea. She sensed His Grace’s eyes fixed firmly on her face. Mrs. Poleman left the room, smiling slyly.
“I know that you are waiting for my answer,” Evelina said. “However, I have some terms which I must insist upon you accepting before I give it.”
“I anticipated as much, and I have already prepared documents in anticipation of them.”
Evelina arched a brow. “We shall see if they align with my wishes,” she said. “First, I want a promise that you will not exercise your marital rights to control my person. That includes where I go and with whom I choose to spend my time.”
He frowned. “Do you intend to make me a cuckold?”
“Irrelevant,” she said. “Do you agree or not?”
“Fine.”
“Next, I will appoint my own trustees,” she continued. “I have already chosen three of them—all men—so you will be forced to comply.”
His Grace laughed bitterly. “I am familiar with clauses and trustees.”
“Then, you agree?”
“I would rather other men not be involved in our marriage, but if that is what you wish, I suppose I will agree,” the Duke of Rothbury said. “I have some conditions of my own.”
“Yes?”
“You will remain in the same house with me until the baby is born.”
Evelina furrowed her brow. “That is unnecessary.”
“I disagree. You are looking after your own interests,” the duke said. “You must also respect my desire to safeguard my interests. When we marry—”
“If we marry,” Evelina interjected. “I have not yet agreed.”
“If we marry,” he echoed. “I will need an heir, and for that, it is in my best interest to see that you are safe and healthy. For the sake of the baby. I will agree to the rest of your terms.”
Evelina frowned, considering the condition. “You make it sound as if I cannot be trusted to take care of myself.”
“I trust that you can,” he said, “but there is no harm in being certain, is there?”
She clenched her teeth, trying to decide if the point was worth arguing. His Grace sounded quite like he wished to control her.
“If the child is a boy, how do you wish to proceed with the marriage?” His Grace asked, seemingly oblivious to her indecision. “Would you prefer a legal separation, or should we continue living our separate lives?”
Evelina wrinkled her nose. “I had imagined that there might be more than one child. Even if my child is a girl, which I want more than anything, I would still—well, I would want for her to have siblings.”
“We have one chance,” His Grace said. “I must produce an heir in ten months.”
“Or else?” Evelina prompted, mentally calculating how unachievable that goal seemed.
“Or the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury will assume power, and I will have nothing but my title,” His Grace said.
All the air seemed to leave Evelina’s lungs. She and her friends had been correct! There was a stipulation in the late duke’s will!
“Even if that should happen, you will still be financially secure,” the duke said, withdrawing folded papers from his jacket.
“Here is what I had intended to offer you—an allowance and your freedom after the heir is born. It is similar to what you have requested with only a few additional stipulations.”
Evelina took the papers, her heart beating very quickly. “I will review these with my solicitor and contact you again.”
The Duke of Rothbury shook his head. “I will not wait,” he said. “I intend on applying for a special license after I leave you tonight. We need to try for that baby as soon as possible, my lady.”
The way he said those words was entirely more seductive than they ought to be, and Evelina’s breath gave an embarrassing little hitch. She tried valiantly to ignore the heat curling between her thighs. “We still have a month,” she said. “Unless you believe you cannot manage it.”
“I can prove myself right now,” he said huskily.
“Oh?”
Instead of answering, he leaned forward and pressed his lips hard against hers.
Evelina’s hands rose instinctively to the lapels of his jacket.
She pulled him to her and kissed him with all the passion she could muster.
When Evelina broke the kiss, her breath came in deep, uneven pants for air.
She ached to kiss him again, though. Evelina wanted this man like she had never wanted anything else in her life.
“Shall we?” he asked, his eyes darkened with lust.
Evelina shivered. The thought of him having congress with her right there on the settee sent all her thoughts scattering apart. It was a delightfully scandalous idea. But—
She had not yet made the agreement.
“We would not want to scandalize my servants,” Evelina said. His Grace did not need to know that most of her servants had gone.
“Very well,” the duke said. “By my estimates, we will be wed by the end of the week anyway.”
“So confident!” Evelina exclaimed. “I have not agreed to anything yet, Your Grace.”
He grinned. “But you will.”