Wonderful (23 page)

“I have no idea what I’m going to do.”

“Why have you kept your engagement a secret from her? Are you pretending you might marry
her
instead? I’m afraid that’s the impression you’re creating.”

“Why would you imagine that?”

“The poor girl is not from our world, Aaron. She hasn’t the sophistication to involve herself with you.”

“Probably not.”

“Have you encouraged her to cry off from her betrothal?” Aaron’s cheeks flushed with chagrin, and Bryce bristled. “Oh, you horse’s ass! What will happen to her if she doesn’t wed the vicar? Will you let her stay at Fox Run? Until when? Until you stroll in with your wife on your arm?”

Aaron hemmed and hawed. He was aware of how badly he’d treated Evangeline, so he couldn’t paint himself in a more flattering light.

Still, he tried to insist, “It’s not what you think.”

“It’s not? Have you seduced her? Are you fornicating with her?”

“I’d like to marry her!” Aaron said, avoiding any confession as to carnal dalliance. “When I went to London last week, it was to inform my father I would separate from Priscilla so I could wed Evangeline.”

“I hope to God Lord Sidwell yanked you back to your senses.”

“He did, so I’m working to convince Evangeline to be my mistress. I raised the possibility when we’d first met, but she was opposed. We’re much closer now, and I’m certain I can change her mind.”

Aaron was almost desperate in his assertions, as if he was persuading himself rather than Bryce, and Bryce was regarding him so skeptically.

“I like her, Aaron. I like her very much.”

“Well, I
love
her.”

“You have to tell her about Priscilla.” It looked as if Aaron might argue the point, so Bryce stated more firmly, “You have to! Why, she might learn of it in passing from one of the servants. What if she discovered it that way?” More grimly, more sternly, Bryce added, “She has to hear it from you.”

“Then she won’t keep on with me,” Aaron bleakly replied, “and I couldn’t bear it if she left. Can’t you understand? I’m finally happy!”

“So bloody what?” Bryce fumed. “You’re happy. Bully for you, but I don’t want her hurt, and if you won’t tell her, I will.”

“Please don’t.”

“Aaron…” Bryce shook his head with disgust. “You’re putting me in a horrid position. When this all blows up—”

“It won’t.”

“It will! I’d hate to realize I could have protected her, but I didn’t.”

“She doesn’t need your protection, Bryce.”

“Doesn’t she?” Bryce seethed.

“Just give me two weeks,” Aaron begged. “If I can get her to agree to be my mistress, everything will be fine. I’ll move her to London and set her up in a house in a nice neighborhood.”

“A little love nest, Aaron? You’d actually arrange it the same week as your wedding? What is wrong with you?”

“I’m simply bowled over by her. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

“If she won’t agree, and you have to rush off to London to marry Priscilla, what then? What will become of her?”

“Let’s not contemplate my failing. Let’s proceed with the expectation that I’ll wear her down.”

“I doubt you will.”

“And I’m
sure
I will.” They paused, on the verge of a major quarrel, and Aaron begged again, “Please, Bryce? Two weeks?”

“All right, but
only
two weeks. I won’t wait a second more.”

“Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

“I’m a foolish friend.”

“That too.”

Aaron’s retort dragged a smile from Bryce. They hurried on to the manor, and Aaron practically bounded up the stairs, being that thrilled to be back with Evangeline.

As they approached the door, the butler opened it and, as Aaron was shucking off his coat, the man said, “We have guests, Lord Run.”

“Guests?” He wasn’t really paying attention. “Who is it?”

“Your fiancée has arrived—with her mother.”

Aaron froze. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “Priscilla and Claudia are here?”

“Yes.”

Behind him, Bryce muttered, “Dammit.”

“They’re in the front parlor,” the butler said, “having refreshments while the maids prepare their rooms.” He noted Aaron’s consternation and hesitantly added, “They’ll be with us for a few days? I didn’t suppose you’d mind.”

Before Aaron could muster a response, Evangeline staggered into the hall. She was stumbling along, looking ill, as if she might faint.

“Evangeline!” he murmured, forgetting himself with the familiar form of address. He hastened over to her and took her arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, though he absolutely knew.

“I just met your fiancée,” she said, “and I’d like to be alone.”

She jerked away and continued on, and Aaron felt as if he’d been poleaxed. The butler was confused, staring, and Bryce was glowering, his fury obvious.

“I told you so,” Bryce spat, as Claudia appeared in the doorway to the parlor.

“Aaron, is that you?” she inquired. “We weren’t expecting you so soon. Could I speak with you?”

That feeling of facing the gallows was back. That feeling that his life was over, that time had run out, covered him like a dark cloud.

He gazed at Bryce, visually seeking advice, seeking support, but Bryce merely shrugged. “Go on. See what she has to say. What else can you do?”

Aaron trudged down the hall.

*    *    *    *

Gertrude Bosworth sat in her bedroom suite, reading and rereading the letter Mrs. Turner had brought from Fox Run.

The message Miss Etherton had penned was so galling that—if she’d been present—Gertrude would have grabbed a poker from the fireplace and beat her bloody.

Miss Etherton deemed herself too grand to join the Bosworth family. She was in love and excited to tell her friend, Miss Ralston, about her new swain.

Love, bah!
Gertrude fumed.

Who put any stock in love? It was fleeting and ridiculous, the stuff of fairytales and romantic novels. It always faded away, and once it waned, the parties were left with no foundation.

No man’s name had been mentioned—clearly, his name
couldn’t
be mentioned—and Gertrude was trying to guess who the lucky fellow might be. It was probably that scoundrel Bryce Blair. The only other choice would be Aaron.

Was Miss Etherton that brazen? Was she that bold?

If Miss Etherton was sniffing after Aaron, what was Aaron’s opinion? Did Miss Etherton presume Aaron would marry her? Hadn’t it occurred to her that Aaron might have other obligations?

Gertrude snickered cruelly. Aaron’s fiancée could enlighten Miss Etherton as to what some of those obligations entailed.

During Mrs. Turner’s brief visit, she’d told Gertrude that the staff at Fox Run was in a dither, that Priscilla Cummings and her mother had arrived without warning. Oh, wouldn’t Gertrude like to be a mouse in the corner, watching as they were introduced to Miss Etherton!

The little slattern! The disloyal, fickle slut!

Gertrude detested it when Ignatius was hurt, when he was slighted or made to feel inferior. Fortunately, she’d had the foresight to invite her cousin’s daughter to live with them. The girl was quiet and obedient, and she seemed in awe of Ignatius. She was religiously devout and hung on his every word. So there was a benefit in knowing—after they were shed of Miss Etherton—there was another bride, a more appropriate bride, lined up to take her place.

And—praise be!—Gertrude hadn’t had to do anything to be shed of Miss Etherton. By her own conduct, she’d condemned herself.

Gertrude wished she didn’t ever have to inform Ignatius, but then there was relief in having discovered Miss Etherton’s true character before the wedding. What if they’d found out after the marriage had been finalized? Gad, what then?

Gertrude went to the stairs and started down. Ignatius was in the library, writing his Sunday sermon. When pursuing such an important task, he hated to be interrupted, but this news couldn’t wait.

She knocked and called, “Ignatius?”

“What is it, Mother? I’m busy.”

She opened the door and peeked in. “We must confer. I’m afraid it’s dire.”

“Come in, come in.” His exasperation evident, he motioned for her to enter.

She approached the desk and laid the letter in front of him.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of these bad tidings, but maybe it’s not so bad. After you’re over the shock of it, you may decide it’s very, very good.”

He scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a note from Miss Etherton to one of her friends.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just be glad I did.”

His temper short, he demanded, “Why? What does she say?”

“Read it, Ignatius. Read it and learn everything about Miss Etherton you will ever need to know.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Leave us, Priscilla.”

“Must I, Mother?”

“Yes, I’d like to meet with Aaron alone.”

“May I stay and listen?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Fine.” Priscilla breathed out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll be in my room. Once the two of you are through, please come upstairs and tell me what he’s decided.”

“I will,” Claudia said.

Then Priscilla turned to Aaron.

“I know you’ve been upset with me, Aaron.”

He made a waffling gesture with his hand. “Let’s not go into it now.”

“I’ve been difficult and immature, but I’m trying to improve so I can be the bride you’d like me to be.”

How was he to answer such a statement? “We’ll discuss it later.”

“I’m praying that you’ll agree to continue with our wedding. If you cry off, I’ll be crushed. It would humiliate me before the entire world”—tears flooded her eyes—“and while you may not care about that, I couldn’t bear it.”

He kept his face blank, shielding any reaction. How in the hell had she learned about his affair? Were their spies among the servants?

She looked majestic and grand, but very young too, and he felt like the cad he was, like vermin that should be squashed under a boot heel. He’d broken her heart—he hadn’t realized she
had
a heart—had infuriated her mother, and all he could think about was how he needed to rush upstairs so he could explain himself to Evangeline.

“We’ll talk later,” he said again.

She scowled and sauntered out, regal as any queen, and he and Claudia stood like statues, listening as her strides faded down the hall.

Claudia pointed to a sofa. “Sit, would you?”

He was on the verge of refusing, of stomping out, but he didn’t. “I suppose I might as well.”

First, he detoured to the sideboard and poured himself a whiskey. He gulped it down, then went to the sofa. What was he to say? How was a man to behave in such a situation? He had no idea.

Claudia seated herself in the chair across, and for a long while she simply studied him, as if he were a curious bug she’d spotted on the floor. Eventually, she began.

“We’ve had our differences in the past, Aaron.”

“We have.”

“I hope we can put them aside for a few minutes.”

“I’m sure we can.”

“Tell me about Miss Etherton.”

He frowned, feigning confusion. “What about her?”

“I had a lengthy conversation with your father.”

The bastard!
Aaron would have denied any affinity, but if Lord Sidwell had tattled, there was no reason to pretend.

“I see.”

“George thought you and Priscilla should confer about it.”

“He did, did he?” Aaron replied with more venom than he’d meant to display.

“But I decided
I
should speak with you instead. There aren’t many women who are prepared to have a discussion like this, and I know Priscilla certainly isn’t.”

“What would you have me say, Claudia?”

“I want you to promise me you’ll marry Priscilla—in three weeks as we’ve planned all year. I want to hear that it’s still your intent.”

Aaron’s head was spinning. He was disoriented, as if he was walking around in a nightmare and couldn’t find the route to escape.

Was he planning to wed Priscilla? That issue had been resolved after he’d visited his father. Hadn’t it?

The previous evening, when he’d had too much to drink, it had seemed perfectly logical to deflower Evangeline so he could blackmail her into being his mistress. But in the light of day and being confronted by his future mother-in-law, it seemed tawdry and vile.

He had to talk to Evangeline and beg her forgiveness. Everything was ruined. She was likely packing her bags and would be gone before he and Claudia were finished.

“Yes, I guess I’m marrying Priscilla,” he halfheartedly said.

“You
guess
? Or you know?”

“I know.”

“Then please march upstairs right now and end your affair with Miss Etherton.”

“I’m not Priscilla, Claudia. Don’t tell me how to behave.”

“I’m not telling you. I’m asking you. Miss Etherton appears to be a fine young woman.”

“She is.”

“When we introduced ourselves, she didn’t realize you were betrothed, and the news was a great shock to her. She was devastated.”

“No doubt she was.”

“Send her away. At once. Swear to me that you will.”

He wouldn’t have to
send
Evangeline away. He was positive she would leave on her own. She’d need no coaxing.

But still, he snapped, “Stop bossing me, Claudia. You can’t.”

“Look, I’m not a child, Aaron, and it’s clear the two of you have grown very close. I don’t care what you do with her, but she can’t stay here. It’s horridly offensive to Priscilla, and I can’t imagine how Miss Etherton is feeling. If you like, stash her away somewhere for a few weeks. Get her out of sight, then you can take up with her—discreetly—later on.”

“That’s big of you to give me your permission.”

“Your relationship with her is interfering in all our lives. You can’t keep on.”

“Maybe if Priscilla hadn’t shown up at Fox Run uninvited, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

Claudia flashed such an enraged glare that, had he been standing, it would have knocked him over.

“You dare say that to my face?” Claudia seethed. “Priscilla shouldn’t have come to Fox Run? My God, Aaron, this manor is about to be her home and your mistress is living here!”