Page 43

Evelyn thought about it. She was confident she had made the right decision marrying Ollie with a planned separation, but the repercussions it would create would be difficult.

Her family would never, ever accept Evelyn being married to a working- class man.

Even though Ollie was halfway into the aristocracy, he wasn’t really an aristocrat with his background, his brothers, and his pub.

And aristocrats would never view him as one, either, even if he was the third grandson of a duke and duchess. He was too different.

“I suppose I could find my own flat, though I haven’t the faintest idea how to live on my own.

” She looked in his direction with a hopeful smile, but he didn’t meet it.

Making a pure guess as to why, she then said, “Thank you for doing this. I wish there was something I could do to repay you for everything you have done for me.”

But the way his jaw clenched, it appeared he was grappling with something. But whatever was on his mind, he decided to keep to himself. “You’re welcome,” he finally said. “When will you tell your family?”

“Oh, well—”

“We could go there right now and then hunt down a flat for you. I bet we would break the record for England’s quickest separation.”

“You’re upset with me.”

“Of course not. Why do you say that?” He stood up. “Upset. No, that’s not what I think I’d call it.” But before expanding on what he meant, Ollie went back inside the church.

*

They ended up deciding to head back to Ollie’s house after the ceremony, still having to sneak in from the back entrance.

Though the crowd was now mostly journalists and nosy citizens.

There were a few police officers present, but it seemed more for crowd control than looking for her.

It appeared Scotland Yard had concluded they weren’t returning to Ollie’s and moved their men to find her elsewhere.

Mrs. Chapman had quite the shock when they told her they’d gotten married. In fact, Ollie had to lead her over to a chair, where she proceeded to faint.

“If she reacts this way, imagine what my mother will do,” Evelyn said while crouched beside the housekeeper, gently patting her hand.

Ollie was fanning Mrs. Chapman with a newspaper.

There were more articles about the earl and Evelyn on the front page, but neither of them cared enough any longer to read them. It all remained the same.

“I wonder at what point my grandparents will break down the door?” Ollie asked out loud. The noise from the crowd outside ensured that there wasn’t a wink of silence inside. “To be honest, I’m surprised they aren’t here already.” He frowned as he continued to fan his housekeeper.

It seemed, until Evelyn met with her family, that Ollie wouldn’t know anything but harassment. She had to put an end to it.

“I’ll write them a letter today,” she decided.

“You’re going to tell them in a letter?” Ollie asked. “Is that wise?”

It would make telling her family a lot easier. But it would also leave room for them to deny it. To disbelieve her. For the letter to get lost before reaching them. “I suppose I’ll have to tell them in person.”

“Have them over,” Ollie said. “Have them call off the blasted idiots camped out front of my house, and if they do that, then they can come by for dinner and you can tell them everything. Leave it vague so they’re curious enough to comply.”

Evelyn blinked. “That’s brilliant, Ollie.”

He gave her a tight-lipped smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I suppose even I can do something intelligent every once in a while.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Evelyn frowned. Ollie had been acting so strange ever since their surprise wedding. “You’re cross with me.”

“I already said I wasn’t.”

Evelyn sniffed. “You’re normally a very amicable person, but you’ve been snippy with me ever since we got married.”

Ollie let out a long breath, as if he were trying to keep himself calm. “We were, in a way, forced into a marriage.”

“But—”

“Yes, I know, it’s temporary.” His deep voice ground with frustration. “Forgive me, Evelyn, but you’re not the only one being affected by it. Did that ever occur to you? Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I have my own feelings about our situation separate from yours?”

Evelyn jumped up to her feet and placed her fists on her hips, preparing to argue, but having to force her voice to a whisper, lest anyone hear them.

“You said you were fine with it! You consented to doing this—you knew what it entailed. I don’t understand.

What is the problem with it, now that it’s done?

You can’t be that miserable about it. I’ll be gone soon enough! ”

Ollie also stood and clenched his teeth hard. He also whispered angrily. “Yes, I know all of that, Evelyn, but I do possess the ability to have multiple feelings about something at once!”

What did that mean? How could he feel multiple ways about what they had done? What could he even possibly feel about it, anyway?

However, she didn’t get a chance to ask because Mrs. Chapman had decided to rouse. Ollie ensured she was all right, and then left the room without a further glance at Evelyn when the housekeeper told him to stop fussing.

Mrs. Chapman rubbed at her eyes. “Did I truly faint?”

“Yes, you did,” Evelyn said as she made her way to a table with a water pitcher on it. She poured a glass for the woman and brought it back to her.

Mrs. Chapman thanked her and took a long gulp. “That was quite the unexpected news.”

“Indeed.”

“You two really get married?” Mrs. Chapman asked over the rim of her glass before handing it over. But, Evelyn noted, she didn’t ask why they had.

Evelyn took the glass and set it to the side.

“Yes. You fainted before we could finish telling you it’s only to protect me legally from marrying the earl.

Obviously, I can’t marry two people, no matter what kind of contract he and my father drew up together.

I won’t be around here much longer, though, don’t you fret.

” Evelyn briefly explained their plan to the woman and expected to get a sigh of relief in return that everything would go back to normal soon enough.

Instead, Evelyn got, “This seems like a terrible idea. There is no way it will go as smoothly as you two think it will.”

Evelyn shifted. “You may be right because Ollie has already begun acting strange.”

Mrs. Chapman, still seated in the chair, tilted her head. “How so?”

“He’s been on edge ever since. Moody. Which is unlike him.”

The housekeeper waved it off. “Even if you plan on separating, it still happened. He probably feels a sense of responsibility for you he didn’t before.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Guilt gripped Evelyn’s stomach. This hadn’t occurred to her, but it should have. It seemed just the kind of thing with which Ollie would grapple.

“He’s an honorable man,” Mrs. Chapman continued, then she grinned. “Any chance you’ll change your mind about the separation part of it?”

Evelyn laughed. “No. And even if I did, he would never agree to that.”

“I suppose you’re right. Mr. McNab isn’t much the marrying type, is he?”

“No, he’s not.”

Mrs. Chapman carefully stood up from her seat, accepting Evelyn’s hand for balance. “While you were gone, something arrived for you.”

This piqued her interest.

Evelyn followed Mrs. Chapman up to her bedroom. On the way, she noted the door to Ollie’s room was closed. She wished she could go in there and talk to him, but it was clear he needed a moment to himself.

This thought quickly dropped away from her mind, though, when she walked into her room and saw something familiar at the foot of her bed.

It was her traveling trunk.

With a gasp, Evelyn rushed over to it and threw open the lid.

Inside the trunk were her dresses, nightgowns, and underthings.

Hers! Clothing that would fit her! She rifled through it with glee, so happy to be reunited with these important belongings.

“Where did this come from?” Evelyn finally asked, barely glancing over at the housekeeper.

“I’m not sure, actually.” Mrs. Chapman stepped forward. “Two footmen knocked on the front door with it but didn’t answer any questions, from me or the journalists. There’s an envelope with your name attached, but I did not open it.”

Evelyn felt a sense of dread as she closed the lid and found an envelope attached the top. With a deep gulp, she ripped it open, expecting the final clue from the Signature Swindler.

However, Evelyn received a great surprise to discover it wasn’t from the thief.

The letter was from her sister.

Evelyn began to read with apprehension.

Dearest Evelyn,

I must say your wild, red head popping out of that hedge in front of Miss Findlay’s home gave me quite the shock.

You obviously came to the most incorrect conclusion about my visit to her, however, which is the purpose of this letter.

I’ve sent it along with some of your belongings because the dress you had on looked utterly ridiculous.

Please destroy it post-haste. Your hat was very nice, however, and I should wonder why you had a lovely hat and a horrendous dress.

Anyway, Miss Findlay is your earl’s mistress.

Did you know about her? When you went missing, she contacted our family, and Mama directed me to go visit her.

That was why I was there when you saw me.

I learned both you and Miss Findlay have the same goal: to cancel the impending wedding between you and the earl.

See, she is a possessive woman and wants him all to herself and I assured her you want nothing to do with the man.

This pleased her greatly. He is ugly inside and out, so I assume he pours money and jewels on her, which would be cut back if he married, lest his new bride discover there was another woman.

While we talked, I mentioned I was to head back home to Paris soon but was having difficulty finding last-minute tickets for an ocean liner (I prefer that over noisy, jerky trains).

Miss Findlay informed me that she had planned to run off to Paris after your marriage to the earl with the hopes that he would chase after her.

But since you ran from the altar, she didn’t have a need for them anymore.

I was able to pay for a portion of the tickets there with the coin I had on my person but still owed the remainder, which I’ve since sent.

Miss Findlay is changing her ticket and her housekeeper’s ticket to be in our names, and the ship leaves in two days at the noon hour. Don’t fret. Both tickets are first class.

Come back to Paris with me. You once had a life there.

You have friends, you have familiarity. I know how fond you were of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.

Suzanne is out of the picture now. Did you know he challenged Henri de Groux to a duel?

De Groux insulted Van Gogh, and your Henri wouldn’t have it.

De Groux of course, backed out like a coward.

Henri is a brave and honorable man. He mentioned you recently, too.

He painted a picture of the Moulin Rouge, aptly called At the Moulin Rouge , and commented he thought you would have liked it if you were there.

Paris awaits you, my dear.

Far more important though: I was not the one who divulged your location, and in fact had no idea where you were until the newspapers reported on it.

I must say, however, the gentleman you have been hiding with is exceptionally delicious.

After you ran away from me, he accused me of an unkindness.

“How could you turn your sister in?” is what he said.

I denied it, of course, but he didn’t believe me.

What kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into?

He looks like the perfect scoundrel to get into trouble with, and I hope his trouble has been endless for you.

Your loving sister,

Cordelia

Evelyn folded the piece of paper and set it upon the top of her trunk.

Her bottom lip quivered, and she fought back the tears of relief she felt knowing Cordelia hadn’t betrayed her.

As usual, her sister had somehow made everything better.

Evelyn’s clothes had been returned to her, she’d offered another solution to Evelyn’s conundrum of what to do with her life after leaving Ollie’s, and Cordelia had even had a kind word to say about him—in her own way, of course.

Paris.

Could she return there? Did she want to? Or would she rather stay here in London? Or even go back to New York, if she was considering locations to which she had old ties?

Evelyn wasn’t sure, but she only had two days to decide.

“Can I help you dress in your new clothes, Miss Sparrow—er, Mrs. McNab?” Mrs. Chapman asked.

Evelyn startled, realizing that she was Mrs. McNab. “Thank you, but I prefer to dress myself,” Evelyn replied, feeling more like herself than she had in a long while.