Wonderful (13 page)

They’d have to live apart, would bump into each other at balls or parties. He’d have to travel to Fox Run occasionally to fornicate with her, to plant the heir the Sidwell title had to have. After she birthed that son, he’d have to plant another, and perhaps even a third after that. Then he’d be shed of her.

What a sad, ghastly life it would be!

“I’m normally a very calm person,” he said, “so you have an erroneous impression about me.”

“What impression is that?”

“You seem to think you can nag and complain and disrespect me.”

“Well, if you insist on foolishly—”

“Shut your mouth, Priscilla. For once, just shut the hell up.”

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

“Be silent!” he shouted. “You’re laboring under the mistaken notion that we are equals. You assume that I give a rat’s ass about you or this wedding or anything else.”

“How dare you say that to me!”

“Yes, how dare I? I’ve listened to your harangue for twelve arduous months, and we are making some changes. As of right now, you will only ever address me in a manner that displays the regard I am due as your fiancé.”

“I’d show you respect if you ever deserved it but, sometimes, you behave like an idiot. Look at that fiasco with your brother. Was I supposed to ignore it?”

“Yes, Priscilla, you should have ignored it. It was between me and my brother. Not me and you. Or you and him. I will have my own life. I will come and go and have my own friends and carry on however I please. I will
never
be any of your business.”

She burst into tears, and he stoically watched her, wishing his father was present to witness the disaster he’d orchestrated by selecting her. Could they possibly have chosen a girl more juvenile and frivolous?

“You’re ruining everything,” she wailed.

“No, I’m merely establishing the rules as to how we’ll proceed from this moment on. I will not waste another second dealing with your childish antics. You will grow up and act like an adult woman, as if you’re mature enough to eventually become a countess, or I swear to God, we’re through.”

She gasped. “You’d cry off?”

“Yes.”

“I’d be humiliated before the entire world.”

He shrugged. “You certainly would be, so I suggest you don’t aggravate me in the future.”

There was no way he could back out of the marriage, but she didn’t know that, so it was a good threat.

Her mother had already given Lord Sidwell a substantial portion of the dowry, but Lord Sidwell was a gambler and wastrel who had huge debts. He’d spent every pound as quickly as he’d received it. If Aaron walked away from the match, they’d have to repay the money, but there was no money.

He wasn’t sure what might have happened, but her mother blustered up, probably sensing they shouldn’t be alone, that calamity could arise.

“There you are,” Claudia chirped. “I was wondering where you’d gotten off to.”

She tried to pretend all was fine, but with how he and Priscilla were glaring, their discord couldn’t be concealed.

“What is it?” Claudia hissed. “What’s wrong now?”

“I’ve been explaining some things to your daughter,” Aaron said.

“What things?” Claudia asked.

“He wants to cry off!” Priscilla bleated.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Claudia scoffed. “No one is crying off. Lord Sidwell and I wouldn’t consider it for an instant.”

“He couldn’t, could he, Mother?” Priscilla whined. “I’d be a laughingstock.”

“You’re worrying over nothing, Priscilla.” Claudia turned her exasperated gaze to Aaron. “What’s the problem, Aaron? Tell me what it is, and let’s see if I can fix it.”

“I was betrothed to your daughter without being consulted and against my better judgment.” It was a terrible remark to voice in front of Priscilla, and he wasn’t usually so crass, but he was suffering from a bout of temper the likes of which he’d never experienced prior.

“She’s very young, Aaron,” Claudia said. “When your father and I first discussed the engagement, I understood you might have reservations. I
still
understand them.”

“Mother!” Priscilla huffed.

“For the past year,” Aaron continued, “she has sassed and scorned and verbally abused me. She has prevailed on my good nature, ruined my calm demeanor, and enraged me beyond what I can abide.”

“She can be horrid,” Claudia agreed. “I admit it.”

“Mother!” Priscilla protested again, but Claudia and Aaron ignored her.

“I am at the end of what I will allow,” Aaron seethed. “She will decide here and now that she will conduct herself as is expected of the woman about to wed the Sidwell heir or I’m finished with her.” He paused, shocked at his outburst. “What is it to be?”

“Of course she’ll be the bride you expect.” Claudia turned to Priscilla and ordered, “Priscilla, get down on your knees and apologize to Aaron.”

“Apologize! For what? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“You see, Claudia?” Aaron fumed. “What am I to make of it?”

“I’ve spoiled her, Aaron,” Claudia said. “I’ve let her run roughshod over me, so she assumes she can run roughshod over you too.”

“Yes, she does,” Aaron concurred, feeling ragged and undone, as if he might simply shatter into a thousand pieces, “and I would love to hear your advice—for I’ve had it with both of you.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Claudia studied him, her concern visibly evident. She stomped over and yanked Priscilla off the bench and forced her to her knees.

“Tell him you didn’t mean to be awful,” Claudia demanded. “Beg his pardon. Humbly and sincerely. Do it, Priscilla.”

Priscilla gnawed on her cheek, debated, delayed, then she folded her hands as if in prayer and dipped her head.

“I’m sorry, Aaron. I didn’t realize I’d been upsetting you. I can be obstinate, and I’m blind to my faults. Please don’t spurn me. If you cried off, I’d just die!”

It was a pretty speech, and she peeked up at him, not appearing contrite in the least, and he supposed it was all he’d ever receive from her. Words, not actions.

He nodded, accepting her apology, but he was sick with disgust. Aaron knew—no matter how Priscilla might currently grovel—their relationship would never improve.

Claudia lifted Priscilla to her feet as she told Aaron, “There now, that has to have mended a few fences. Hasn’t it?”

“We’ll see,” he said. “I’m not optimistic.”

“I’ll spend the whole month with her, Aaron. I’ll work on her temper and attitude.”

You’ve had eighteen years!
he wanted to complain, but what would be the point?

Instead, he replied with, “I appreciate it.”

“I haven’t prepared her to be a wife. I haven’t explained her role or her true position, but I will.”

“I’m exhausted, Claudia.”

“There’s no need to be. We’ve smoothed over your troubles, haven’t we?”

He gaped at her, practically weak with fatigue. He
hated
bickering! It reminded him of his childhood, of listening to his father rant at Lucas, whip Lucas, shame and damage Lucas until he was an unruly miscreant who was beyond repair.

“Are we fine now?” Claudia nervously asked.

He took a deep breath, pulling back, reverting to form. “Yes, we’re fine.”

“There’ll be no more talk about crying off?”

“No, there’ll be no more such talk.”

“And I’ll get Priscilla squared away. I promise you. Next time you see her, you won’t even recognize her. She’ll be so changed, you’ll think she’s a new girl entirely.”

Claudia flashed a tremulous smile, but he didn’t return it. He didn’t believe proper conduct was possible for Priscilla—despite how Claudia might guarantee it.

Claudia waved toward the house. “Why don’t you head into the party? Find some of your friends and have a few stout brandies. You’ll feel better.”

“I’m sure that’s precisely the cure for what ails me,” he said.

He spun away and left.

Priscilla—thank God—hadn’t uttered another comment. She simply stared, looking as if she’d like to throw something at him, but with Claudia standing there, she wouldn’t dare.

He hurried inside, but didn’t stop to socialize. He kept on through the ballroom, up the stairs, and out the front door, wondering where to go, wondering what to do.

CHAPTER NINE

Aaron stepped into the manor at Fox Run, stopped in his tracks by the strangest sound. Music. Vocal music, loud and merry and ringing off the rafters.

He paused and actually glanced around the foyer to be sure he was in the right residence, that he hadn’t stumbled into the wrong house by mistake. He’d owned Fox Run for a decade, and it had always been a quiet, empty place. He’d certainly never encountered singing when he’d walked through the door.

It was late in the evening, and he hadn’t been expected, so there were no servants to meet him in the foyer, but he didn’t mind. He was just so relieved to be back.

After his fight with Priscilla and Claudia, he’d left London—again without a word to anyone—and had proceeded straight to the country.

The entire journey, he’d fretted about Priscilla until it had dawned on him that he wasn’t a sentimental man. While once he’d naively thought he might like to marry for love and affection, he’d never valued maudlin traits. Why be upset over the fact that he possessed no tender feelings for Priscilla?

Many of his acquaintances had been wed for years and not a single one had ended up satisfied with his choice. Why should Aaron’s marriage be any different?

He was putting too much emphasis on irrelevant details. He’d been fuming because Priscilla would never make him happy, but he couldn’t care less if she made him happy. Priscilla was who she was, and Aaron was who
he
was. His father wanted the union, and Aaron would never defy Lord Sidwell in such an important decision. Lucas would, but Aaron wouldn’t.

So why fuss over it? Why carry on until he felt ill with regret?

Evangeline was at Fox Run, and Aaron was getting married in a month. If he trifled with Evangeline for a bit, it would calm his raging upset, so it would benefit everyone involved. Particularly Priscilla.

Evangeline was the key. Evangeline would fix everything.

He’d already asked her if she’d have an affair, and she’d refused, but why take her word for it? He would simply wear her down and change her mind. And if he couldn’t?

Then he’d have three weeks of flirtation and dalliance before his responsibilities drew him back to London.

The ruckus was coming from the music room. He went down the hall and peeked inside, smiling at the sight that greeted him.

Evangeline, Bryce, and Florella were rehearsing, with Evangeline at the piano, and Bryce and Florella singing a duet. Several of his servants were also participating. They were arrayed in a chorus behind Bryce and Florella and sounding quite grand. He hadn’t known members of his staff were so talented!

Bryce kept forgetting the lyrics, which would cause them all to laugh and jest. They were a mixed group, but having a jovial time, and it occurred to him that he was so bloody glad to have Evangeline in the house. She’d brought this noise and gaiety with her, had enlivened his home, charmed his servants, and beguiled his friends.

How lucky he was to have her staying under his roof. In such a swift and remarkable way, she’d altered his whole world.

He had a vague recollection of this sort of raucous energy pulsating through the halls of Sidwell Manor when he’d been a little boy, when his mother had still been with them, but after she’d passed on, all the jollity had passed with her.

From that day forward, it had been an era of dreary tedium, of lonely, lost brothers maneuvering around a petulant father who’d lashed out when crossed. On watching Evangeline direct the ensemble, he realized how much he’d missed his mother’s commotion and uproar. Who could have imagined it?

He loitered in the hall, in the shadows, not eager to bluster in and wreck their fun. He silently observed until, finally, they declared themselves finished. Bryce and Florella collapsed onto the sofa, the servants discreetly stepping away, trying to look unobtrusive now that their role in the chorus was ended.

Clapping enthusiastically, Aaron burst in. They all whipped around to learn who had arrived. The servants appeared sheepish, worried they might be in trouble. Bryce and Florella waved, beckoning him over. But it was Evangeline who riveted him, who told him he was right to have returned.

“Lord Run!” she said. “What a nice surprise!”

“Hello, hello.” He included everyone, but it was all for her.

“What are you doing here?” Bryce asked.

“There were rumors of a fantastic musicale being presented in this part of the country, and I raced back to see it.”

“It was all Evangeline’s idea,” Bryce said.

“I’m sure it was,” Aaron agreed.

“We can’t keep up with her.”

Aaron grinned at Evangeline. “You’ve drafted my servants into your mischief again.”

“After I heard them in the choir at church, I couldn’t resist. Aren’t they marvelous?”

“They’re your devoted acolytes. If they’re busy with your frivolous pursuits, how will they ever get their chores done?”

“Who cares about chores,” she saucily retorted, “when they can spend time singing instead?”

“I demand my own private performance,” he announced, and he marched over and pulled up a chair next to the pianoforte.

She glanced at her assembled troupe and asked, “What say all of you? Can you do it again for Lord Run?”

“You’re a slave driver, Evangeline,” Bryce protested, but he was already pushing himself to his feet.

“No rest for the weary,” Florella chimed in as she rose too. “Or is it the wicked?”

“It’s the wicked,” Bryce said. “Definitely the wicked.”

Evangeline urged the servants to stand behind Bryce and Florella. For a moment, they looked anxious, but she had such a clever way with people that she instantly put them at ease.

She played the introductory chords, and as Bryce began to sing, Aaron sat back to enjoy the show.

Three weeks,
he mused to himself.

Four weeks to his wedding, which meant three weeks to dally with Evangeline at Fox Run. He would charm and woo her until she relented. If he was shrewd, if he was lucky, she just might shower him with everything he’d ever wanted.