Wonderful (18 page)

“
You
could be happy that way. I never could be.”

They glared, silently fighting, which was idiotic and pointless. There was naught to fight about. She had no place in his life and was eager to depart. He should let her.

Why then, was he experiencing such crushing alarm at the prospect of her going?

“This is ridiculous,” she ultimately muttered. “Why are we quarreling?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will you give me the money? It’s fine if you’d rather not.”

“It’s not the money,” he claimed.

“What is it then?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“So? What purpose would be served by my tarrying a moment longer?”

“We could have two more weeks together!” Why couldn’t he make her understand?

“Doing what?”

“What we’ve been doing. Singing and riding and dining. It’s been so enjoyable.”

“Yes, it has—like a relaxing, entertaining holiday. I’ll always remember it. I’ll always be grateful that I had the chance to visit your home.”

It was such a final comment, as if she already had a foot out the door.

“What about your engagement?” he asked.

“What about it?”

“You have to end it, and it will take some time and effort. You can stay while you wrap things up.”

“I can’t stay. Every minute I spend with you is a betrayal of your cousin.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“It is! Don’t deny it. I’m being consumed by guilt.”

“I’m not. Besides, if you’re crying off, how can our relationship matter to him? It’s none of his business.”

“He was kind to bring me here, and my decision will cause hard feelings all around. It will upset the community and upset the vicar and his mother. It will be better for everyone concerned if it’s handled from a distance.”

“I’ll help you—if you remain with me.”

“You can’t be involved in it.”

“I suppose not,” he grumbled. She was right again, of course. He couldn’t have his name bandied within a hundred miles of the debacle.

“As I wade through it, I need to be surrounded by friends. I need their support and advice.”

“When would you tell my cousin?” he inquired.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow!”

“Yes, and I’d like to leave immediately after. The mail coach comes by at noon. I’d like to be on it.”

He felt as if she was already walking away, and once she did, he’d never again enter his dining room to see her seated at the breakfast table. He’d never stand in the foyer and hear her piano music drifting down the hall. He’d never gaze across the parlor at a party and proudly watch her as she charmed his neighbors and enchanted his friends.

Though it was horrid, he let an image of Priscilla float in the air between them. He’d never previously given much thought to Priscilla being at Fox Run, to Priscilla supervising the servants and running the household.

He tried to picture her in the manor, making his home the easy, merry place Evangeline had turned it into. He tried to picture the servants looking at Priscilla with the adoration they showered on Evangeline.

Yet Priscilla wasn’t Evangeline and would never behave like Evangeline.

With Priscilla in residence, it would be as dreary as it had always been, but accompanied by bickering and strife, by accusations and blame. With Priscilla in residence, Aaron might never visit Fox Run.

Evangeline had arrived at a decision—to sever her engagement—and she was prepared to follow through. Why couldn’t he do the same?

A separation from Priscilla would create a huge mess, would stir controversy and bring fiscal catastrophe. But why would he blithely carry on when the marriage was so wrong? Why was he allowing his father to pressure him? Why couldn’t he seize what he craved for once?

“No,” he murmured.

“What?”

“No. You’re not crying off tomorrow, and you’re not leaving in the morning.”

“I have to,” she insisted. “It’s the only way to save myself.”

“No,” he said more firmly, and he pushed himself to his feet and marched over to her. “You’re not proceeding until I have time to figure out a better conclusion.”

“You’d never wed me, and so long as that is your opinion, there is no
better
conclusion for us.”

“There has to be. I just have to find it.”

“It’s pointless, Aaron.”

“No, not pointless. Don’t say that.”

He dipped down and kissed her. He’d been putting it off all night, but he didn’t want to control himself, didn’t want to stay away from her. He wanted to be so soundly connected that there could never be an inch of space between them.

For a brief second, she tried to pull away, but their physical attraction was too strong. She moaned with despair, then leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his waist.

His tongue was in her mouth, his hands in her hair. Her body was pressed to his, but he simply couldn’t get her near enough. Short of fornication, he couldn’t truly have her in the fashion he desperately desired. But he wasn’t so sufficiently corrupted that he’d deflower her on the sofa in his parlor. If she deserved anything from him, she deserved that.

He kissed her forever, for hours perhaps; he couldn’t guess how long it lasted. He couldn’t bear to release her, feeling that if he did, she might vanish right before his eyes.

He held her and caressed her and pleased himself, captivated by how she fit against him, how she responded to his slightest move, his slightest touch. She was perfect for him, but he’d convinced himself he couldn’t have her.

Why couldn’t she be his? He would cast caution to the wind, would tell his father to sod off, would tell Priscilla it was over. He wasn’t concerned about the morass it would cause, about ruined reputations or legal suits for breach of contract.

He thought he might be in love with Evangeline, that he might be pitifully, completely, wildly in love. And if a man couldn’t marry for love, why marry at all?

Gradually, he slowed and drew away.

“I have to ride to London tomorrow,” he told her.

“Why?”

“I have to take care of some family issues.”

“What issues?”

“It’s some old trouble.”

“All right.”

“While I’m gone,” he said, “I want you to promise me you won’t talk to my cousin. Don’t leave. Just…wait.”

She was clutching his shirt, seeming weak, as if the least poof of wind would knock her to the floor. Finally, she repeated, “All right.”

“I’ll fix everything while I’m there.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“I’ll explain once I’m back.”

She was dubious, skeptical. “Tell me I’ll be fine, that there will be a good ending for me. Tell me it will involve you.”

“It will, but you have to be here when I return.”

Her shoulders sagged as if with defeat. “I will be. I promise.”

“We’ll work this out, Evangeline, I swear it to you.”

“Here’s hoping.” She spun and ran for the stairs.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“How was your journey?”

“Invigorating. Calming.”

“Good. You look better than you have in ages.”

Aaron stared at his father, wishing they were in the country at Sidwell Manor, but earlier in the summer, his father had come to town. He hadn’t left, which was exhausting and expensive. Lord Sidwell felt entitled to behave as most gentlemen of his station behaved. He gambled and caroused and bought costly horses, art, clothes, and jewelry he didn’t need.

He constantly chastised Lucas for his reckless fiscal habits, but Lord Sidwell wasn’t any different—especially with regard to his gambling—but the family couldn’t afford it. The Sidwell estate couldn’t afford it. Aaron couldn’t afford it. If his father dropped dead that instant, the debts would pass to Aaron.

In his own life, Fox Run was prosperous, and he was careful about his finances. As a boy, he’d had excellent tutors and had learned his lessons well. He didn’t throw his money away, and he’d drown himself in the ocean before he’d enter a gambling house.

Claudia had paid a substantial portion of the dowry to Lord Sidwell, and he’d squandered most of it. If he was still in town, he was likely borrowing against future monies Claudia was obligated to tender after the wedding. Every penny Lord Sidwell frittered away made it harder for Aaron to reach the resolution with Priscilla he was desperate to achieve.

They were in his father’s library, with guests about to arrive for supper. It was the first quiet moment they’d had since Aaron had returned to London.

“Have you been at Fox Run the whole time?” Lord Sidwell asked.

“Yes.”

“Getting the place ready for your bride, are you?”

“Not really. It’s in fine condition. It doesn’t need alterations.”

“Every bride makes changes.”

“I don’t want anything changed. I like it just how it is.”

“We can have this discussion again in a few months, and we’ll see how matters stand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wives generally get their way with household affairs. On the husband’s end, it’s typically not worth fussing over. I suggest you set up an account for her and tell her how much she can spend. Otherwise, she’ll bankrupt you before Christmas.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lord Sidwell was seated at his desk, Aaron in the chair across. They were having a brandy, trying to pretend the conversation wasn’t awkward and strained. Lord Sidwell was difficult to like, and Aaron didn’t like him very much—mostly because of his horrid reprimands of Lucas when they were children.

Aaron had been the perfect and adored son, while Lucas had been wild and unruly and constantly—viciously—punished. Aaron suffered great guilt over their disparate treatment, and his relationship with his brother was rocky because of it.

Still, Aaron was courteous and civil to Lord Sidwell. Their family was very small, without a hoard of aunties and uncles and just a scattering of distant cousins such as Gertrude and Iggy Bosworth. Mostly, it was Aaron, Lucas, and his father, and if Aaron didn’t have his father and his brother in his life, who would he have? Priscilla and Claudia?

“Have you heard from Lucas?” he asked his father.

“Don’t mention your brother to me.”

Lord Sidwell and Lucas were fighting again, with Lord Sidwell having proclaimed Lucas to be disowned and disinherited. The usual threats.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Have you heard from him!”

“Yes.”

“You received a letter?”

“Yes.”

“Has he found Miss Hubbard? Has he proposed?”

“He found her, and I believe she agreed to have him. Poor girl.”

“Are they married? Have they eloped across the border? What?”

“I’m not his social secretary, Aaron. I have neither the desire nor the need to be apprised of his plans.”

“If they didn’t elope, are they coming to London to wed here? Or are they hoping to wed at Sidwell Manor?”

“He will
not
wed at Sidwell Manor. He’s not welcome there, and he knows my feelings about it.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Aaron scolded. “You’ve been trying to marry him off for eight years, and he’s finally done as you’ve been demanding. I like Miss Hubbard, and she’ll be good for him. If they wish to have the ceremony at Sidwell, then of course they will. I won’t let you refuse to host a celebration for them.”

“I won’t spend a farthing on it,” his father petulantly snapped.

“Then
I
will. If you’re determined to behave like a fool, you’ll only be hurting Miss Hubbard. I’m sure Lucas couldn’t care less where he marries.”

“Precisely.”

“So if they ask to use Sidwell Manor, it will be because Miss Hubbard would like to honor you by holding it there.”

“Oh,” Lord Sidwell grumbled, the notion obviously not having occurred to him.

Aaron thought Miss Hubbard would be a breath of fresh air for the family, that she was exactly the sort of kind, considerate person they should have in their midst. And she was madly in love with Lucas.

Aaron had once watched Miss Hubbard and Lucas together, had observed their visible affection, and he’d wondered how it would feel to have a woman gaze at
him
like that someday. Well, it had happened, and he could definitely say it was remarkable. It certainly trumped Priscilla’s cool, detached disinterest.

“Speaking of weddings”—Aaron had to force himself to address the difficult topic—“I need to talk to you about mine.”

“Three weeks away, hm? Coming at you with lightning speed.”

“Yes, it’s coming much too quickly.”

“You seem much more resigned than the last time we discussed it.” His father flashed a sly grin. “You must have taken my advice. I heard Florella Bernard was with you at Fox Run.”

His father’s comment raised a dozen questions, and Aaron could hardly decide which to address first. He chose Florella.

“How did you know Florella traveled with me?”

“An acquaintance mentioned it. People delight in apprising me of you and your brother’s antics.” His father grinned again. “Since you appear much more
relaxed,
I assume you enjoyed her in all the ways I suggested.”

His father had told Aaron to have a fling before the wedding. Initially, Aaron had been offended by the idea. But, apparently, he hadn’t been as offended as he’d believed himself to be. Hadn’t he raced to Fox Run and acted just as his father had directed him to act?

“I haven’t been consorting with Florella.”

“You needn’t lie about it, Aaron. We’re both adults. You don’t have to hide your indiscretions from me. I’m usually informed about them anyway.”

“Bryce was with me too. He brought her.”

“So? Doxies are notorious for sharing their favors.”

“I didn’t share
favors
or anything else with her.”

“Say what you will,” his father smugly replied. “I can see from your demeanor that
someone
relieved your stress.”

“It wasn’t Florella.”

Aaron’s tone was suddenly very solemn, very serious, and in the embarrassed silence that followed, Lord Sidwell mused, “There was a woman at Fox Run?”

“There was.”

“I’m so glad. With how your mood has altered, she must have been amazing.”