Page 102
Story: A Virgin for the Duke of Ash
“Am I to assume that you have properly learned your lesson, then?” she continued, regarding Daniel with a slight smile. Even Caroline in her prime was probably not as impressive.
“If by ‘lesson,’ you mean that I will take Evie’s opinions into consideration in the future, then,yes,” he admitted. “I will not hesitate when it comes to her safety, though.”
Alice set her cup down. “I think that should be good enough for me. It remains to be seen whether dear Evie will find it acceptable.”
“I think not!” Colin protested.
“Oh, shush!” Alice gave her husband a reproachful look. “Evie deserves to hear what her husband has to say. Whether she chooses to stay with him is entirely up to her, andyou will not interfere in it.”
“But—”
Alice pressed her fingers to her temples and looked at him in exasperation. “Have you seen Evie?” she demanded. “Have you seen how she walks around, pretending to smile forourbenefit?”
“I know, darling,” Colin wheedled. “But surely,heis not the answer.”
“Perhaps,” she sighed. “But it is up to Evie to decide.”
She stood up and looked fiercely at Daniel. “If you dare to hurt her again, I will not forgive you, Duke.”
Daniel stood up and bowed politely to her. “I shall not waste your kindness this time…Alice.”
Her eyes softened, and she waved him away with a tired smile. “Evie likes to paint in the gardens around this time. She usually sets her easel up by the gazebo, under the shade.”
Daniel had been to Blackthorn Estate far too many times to not know the exact spot Alice mentioned.
“Thank you so much,” he muttered hoarsely.
And then, he turned on his heel and rushed to the gardens.
Why is it so cold?
Evie wrapped the shawl around her shoulders as she stepped out of the mansion and into the gardens with her brushes and paints tucked under her arm.
She recalled how her mama loved the gardens so much, how she would spend nearly all her time tending to the bushes and the flowers. She would have her tea in the gazebo and stare off into the distance.
She never knew then just how unhappy her mama had felt in her marriage. How her heart had longed for another despite how arduously her papa loved her.
Did you sit here and not feel the sun on your skin, too?Evie wanted to ask her.
But her mama was gone. She had chosen death, to be with the man she had foolishly given her heart to, even when she had an entire family who loved her.
Evie never thought that she would ever have something in common with the woman who once put her daughter’s life in jeopardy when she chose to immolate herself in her own home.
She had never felt the sheer helplessness of heartbreak—until Daniel.
“Dr. Jenning said that it would be good for Your Grace to go out often,” Jane murmured. “Fresh air is always good for the body.”
Evie nodded, frowning a little as the slightest breeze made her hair stand on end and made gooseflesh spread all over her arms. When did she become so fragile?
“I would like some tea please, Jane,” she said quietly.
Her maid nodded and stepped back quietly. “I shall be back soon, Your Grace.”
After Jane left, Evie slowly unfolded the leather roll-up case that held her brushes. Her hand hovered each one as she decided which one she was going to use, her mind wandering all the while.
Mr. Turner had returned for their lesson just yesterday, and although he did not say much about the paintings she had created out of the depths of her despair, she could tell he approved of them.
“Not all of our works have to be for everybody, Your Grace,” he had told her then. “Some of them, we do for our own souls.”
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