Chapter 14
Henry and Elias watched the declining sun light up the pond in a sheen of gold. Ducks swam between cattails, dressing their feathers with droplets of shimmering water. Tiny birds chirped amidst the softly rustling magnolia trees. The scent of the men’s cigars overpowered the soft, floral fragrance of the garden.
Despite the surrounding beauty, there was a hollowness in Henry’s chest and a lump in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to be with Eva.
“Where do you travel to next?” Henry brought the cigar to his lips and drew in a long drag.
“I have decided to return to Scotland,” Elias said. “Ma’s health is failin’.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I hope it isn’t too serious.”
“I dinnae ken. She’s nearing seventy. She’s as tough as they come but I suppose we all must go eventually.”
Henry’s mouth curved into a frown. Truer words were never spoken.
“Besides I have come to a standstill with our research. Ye’d think that in 1881, the British scientific community would be willing to consider the theory of evolution, but nae, those auld bastards continue to claim it’s all hogwash.”
“It would seem difficult to teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Aye, it bloody well is.”
Henry brought the cigar to his lips and inhaled.
Elias McKenzie, last-born son to a family of six, was a scholar. His friendship with Henry went back to when they were boys at the same boarding school in London. In the past decade, Elias had been scouring the planet in the name of science, having gone as far as the Amazon in his pursuit to shine a light on the theory of natural selection. It was an honourable career. One that Henry could only dream of.
“The evidence is all around us, Henry.” Elias leaned forward on the table. “For example, at this very moment, there is a peppered moth in London that we plan to study.”
“A moth?”
“Do ye recall a mottled moth wi’ wee black spots? Surely ye must have seen them in the countryside.”
Henry furrowed his brow. “Yes, of course.”
“That very same species has grown darker over recent years, nearly black like the soot that stains London.” Elias’s smile widened. “It has adapted to its surroundings to avoid detection from the birds.”
“Fascinating.” Henry smiled. “Natural selection in real time. This is what you and your colleagues will present to the scientific community?”
“Aye, if the auld bastards will listen. After this party o’ yers, I plan to return to London for a month before leaving on a journey by caravan back to Scotland with fellow scholars. We’ll try to catch a few specimens for the cause, wrap them up in a pretty bow and deliver our findings to the university.” Elias stubbed his cigar into the ashtray. “But enough talkin’ aboot work. What do ye ken o’ bonny Miss Edwards?”
Henry swallowed back the sweet, acidic taste of tobacco. The question took him by surprise. “She is a friend of Lottie from her school in Paris. My sister has invited her to stay for the summer.”
“Hmm, do ye ken where she comes from?”
“Washington.”
“From a family o’ doctors perhaps?”
Henry narrowed his eyes. “I do not know. Why do you ask?”
“She spoke o’ handwashing and sanitizing as a way against infection. I wondered whether she had experience in the medical field.”
Henry gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps our American friends have better hygiene standards than their British counterparts.”
“Perhaps,” Elias muttered.
Henry did not like the soft look on Elias’s face.
“She is a brave lass,” Elias said.
“What do you mean?”
“Have ye ever known a woman reject laudanum when injured? She suffered through those sutures without complaint. She didnae shed a tear. A tough lassie, that one.”
Henry’s stomach dropped. His fingers crushed the cigar. He extinguished it in the ashtray and set it aside; the tobacco was doing nothing for him. Eva’s accident had already fried his nerves and no attempt of relaxation would shock them back to life.
Upon her arrival at Asheford Hall, Eva claimed illness and for good reason; she was pale, quiet, trembling like a leaf and covered in blood. Lottie had taken her to her bedchamber where she remained. How badly he wanted to comfort her, instead of having his sister and friend do so. A lick of jealousy entered his heart.
But why don’t you?
To go to her room now would be against the rules. The easiest thing would be to slip a note beneath her door. It would be a sign to let her know that he was thinking of her well-being. A distant hand for her to hold.
Henry watched the wafting grey tendrils of smoke from the remnants of Elias’s cigar in the ashtray.
No.
He could not relax unless he physically saw her. Or maybe embraced her. Or heard her voice say she was all right. Even though it was against all modest decorum to visit a bedridden guest in the darkness of night, he would do it. After all, as lord of the house, weren’t the rules his own to break?
***
He did not wait for his watch to strike midnight. Instead, he waited for the halls to grow quiet, the servants to retire and darkness to fall upon Asheford Hall.
A glance in his mirror showed that he was presentable. He brushed back a loose strand of hair from his forehead, adjusted his collar and smoothed down the wrinkles of his shirt. After brushing his teeth and spraying a touch of cologne upon his neck, he pocketed his watch and slipped through the door.
He quietly walked through his home toward Eva’s bedchamber. In the furthest corner of the west wing, her room was a tiny, private space that overlooked the gardens.
At her door, he knocked.
No answer came.
He knocked a second time and when no sound was heard, he placed his forehead against the door. She is asleep.
The door opened, temporarily wrong-footing him.
His next breath lodged in his throat.
In the moonlight, her pale figure glowed in a halo of white. Her expression was hard, as if she were battling to control an emotion. Her lower lip trembled. She stepped aside, permitting him to enter.
He glided past her and shut the door.
“I’ve come to see how you are,” he said, in a voice that seemed too loud.
She visibly swallowed.
“Eva?”
“I’m so sorry,” she trembled.
His mouth went dry. They were the only words she had said to him today. It stirred an emotion within him. God, how badly he wanted to protect her.
“No,” he said.
“I messed everything up.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, Eva.”
“I tried my best … I tried to stay in character.” Her whispers broke into a hiccup. “I tried. I’m so sorry, Henry.”
At the mention of his name, he could not help but pull her into his arms. With a hand resting at the base of her head, he carefully held her. “Do not apologize.”
“Are you … are you angry with me?”
His brows promptly creased. “Angry? No, dear God, no. What happened was an accident.”
“But I made the doctor angry.”
“How so?”
“He called me a disagreeable woman.” She pulled at his shirt. “I insulted him by asking him to wash his hands … to disinfect the wound…”
His lips quirked at that. “He sounds like a stubborn bastard stuck in his old ways.”
“That’s what Elias said.”
Ignoring the subtle pulse of jealousy, Henry leaned back to peer down at Eva. With a finger, he lifted her chin. “If you are worried that the doctor will discover the truth behind Jane Edwards, I can assure you there is nothing to be concerned about. He won’t breathe a word, on account of being embarrassed that a woman gave him a slap on the wrist.”
“Really?”
“Truly.” He smiled. “That you are an imp will remain our secret for a while longer.”
Her frown deepened. “You’re really not angry with me?”
“How on earth could I ever be angry with you?”
“I can remember a few times.”
“That was a lifetime ago,” he whispered.
She met his gaze as she tightened her grip around his torso. In the darkness of the room, her eyes appeared charcoal-black. It made him feel strange. He had spent years running from darkness and here he was falling straight into it.
“But I ruined the dress you bought me,” she whimpered.
“Hush with that nonsense.” He poked her nose. “I did not think Evaline Quinn cared for such things.” He leaned into her ear. “Besides, there are plenty more where that came from. I don’t suppose you have taken a gander at your closet.”
A small gasp escaped her lips. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, but I did.”
She pulled away and went to the closet. On opening the doors, she gasped at the dozen dresses hanging inside. If a pin were to drop, he would have heard it crystal clear.
“You’re crazy,” she finally said.
“So I’ve been told.”
She ran a hand across the layers of cloth. “No, I mean, literally crazy. Why the hell would you spend your money on dresses for someone who will soon leave?”
He swallowed. “I suppose I wanted to make things easier.”
She shut the doors, turned and crossed her arms. “Easier.”
She’s angry with you.
“Thank you,” she said, as if the words physically pained her. “So, what’s next?”
“We sleep.”
“I mean, for the next few days.”
“We continue as planned,” he muttered. “A week of suppers, cakes, picnics, games, walks and pointless chitter-chatter.”
“The boring stuff.”
“The utterly useless stuff.”
“And then we get back to business,” she said quickly.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
A tense silence followed. With a heavy sigh, she took a seat on the edge of her bed.
“Henry, I…” She paused, causing a wave of heat to surge through his veins. “I … I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
He cleared his throat. “So that’s what that was,” he lied. “I thought you had accidentally brushed against my cheek.”
“I don’t know why I did that,” she said. “It was reckless … and inappropriate.”
“Hmm.”
“I don’t like you in that way.”
“Eva—”
“We shouldn’t … we shouldn’t be romantically involved,” she burst out. “It isn’t right for either of us, and if I came across as flirtatious in the past then it was … unintentional.”
He tipped back his head. A physical stab to his heart would have hurt less.
“You can’t show up to my room like this anymore,” she added.
Yes, keep on twisting the knife of shame. He exhaled. “Eva, please. I thought nothing of that supposed kiss and I expect that you should think nothing of this visit.” He looked at her now. “As for romantic notions, I would hardly consider the possibility given our differences, ambitions and temporary crossing of paths. We will always be strangers, at most friends. We have simply been pushed together by an awful circumstance and nothing more.”
It was a hard truth that needed to be said out loud. If not for her, then for his own benefit.
“And if you are concerned about the dresses, consider this. That act of kindness is no different than if you were to pass me by in the street and I were to open the door for you as a helping hand,” he said.
She shook her head. “It’s different.”
He narrowed his brows. “How so?”
“I don’t think about the strangers who pass me by every day.”
“Then we are friends who will one day be distant.”
She lowered her head. A sheepish expression marked her face.
“Eva, you said it yourself,” he said, feeling his chest ache with confusion. “I did not exist to you before you arrived, nor will I exist to you when you return.”
A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away. “I’m tired,” she said.
“Are you in much pain?”
She nodded.
“Why did you refuse the laudanum?” he asked.
“Because it’s opium,” she grimaced. “You know that stuff is highly addictive. It will ruin your life. It can kill you—”
“All right, I understand,” he said.
And he did, more than she would ever know.
They fell silent until the quietness became too much to bear. He wished she would sing, perhaps a happy song this time, so that time could momentarily freeze, and they could pretend that everything was normal. But she had told him once before that she would never sing for him. He should have believed her. He was a fool to think otherwise.
“Try to get some rest,” he said.
“You too.”
She would not look at him. He supposed it was for good reason. Hadn’t he told her that they were temporary in one another’s lives? She was playing her part. It was time to play his.
“I bid you goodnight, Miss Edwards.”
“Good night, Mr. Asheford.”