Page 40 of A Spinster’s Folly (Courting the Unconventional #2)
N ow that Charles was safe, Eugenie could finally breathe again. She slid her muff pistol into the pocket of her jacket as her eyes followed Mr. Kingston as the Bow Street Runners led him away. And now, she wasn’t sure what to do.
Should she simply mount her horse and return home? Pretend this night hadn’t changed everything? Could she do that after what Charles had confessed?
He loved her.
And she loved him.
Yet, as she turned her gaze to him, she realized his expression was not one of joy, but of something else entirely—disapproval. His lips were pressed into a firm line, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to make sense of what she had done.
She clasped her hands in front of her. “Are you upset?” she asked cautiously.
“Yes… no… I am not quite sure,” he admitted. “You rode all the way here, dressed as a man, and stepped in front of a pistol that was being pointed at me. ”
Eugenie forced a smile. “That is all true.” She took a step closer. “But I love you.”
His expression softened at those words. “And I love you, too,” he murmured. Then, shaking his head, he added, “But you shouldn’t have taken such a risk. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
“I would do anything for you,” she said earnestly, “even ride a horse.”
That, at last, earned the reaction she was hoping for. His lips curved into a smile. “You rode a horse for me.”
“I did,” she confirmed, a playful tone in her voice. “So you should be a little nicer to me.”
He chuckled. “You make a good point.”
A throat cleared nearby, and Eugenie was suddenly reminded that they were not alone. She turned to find Philip standing there, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze sweeping over her with open curiosity.
“You are wearing men’s clothing,” Philip remarked.
“I am,” she replied.
Philip tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Trousers suit you.”
Charles, however, was less amused. “Go home, Philip. Your mother is worried sick.”
With an exaggerated groan, Philip asked, “When will she realize I am an adult?”
“Perhaps when you start behaving like one,” Charles retorted.
Philip rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re upset with me. I was only trying to do the honorable thing with Miss Kingston.” He threw his hands in the air. “It’s not my fault she was increasing.”
“Yes,” Charles said flatly, “but your ‘honorable actions’ nearly led to your death.”
Philip huffed. “I am a far better shot than Kingston. ”
Charles leaned in slightly, wrinkling his nose. “Yes, but your breath reeks of whiskey. I don’t think you could even shoot straight.”
Puffing out his chest in pride, Philip declared, “I could. I have discharged my pistol in far worse states.”
“That is not something to be proud of,” Charles muttered under his breath.
Philip made his way towards his horse, untying the reins with casual ease. “I don’t know why you worry about me so much. I will be fine.”
Eugenie watched as Philip mounted and rode off, the easy swagger in his posture at odds with the night’s events. She could tell, just by looking at Charles, that his cousin’s recklessness troubled him more than he let on.
Charles ran a hand through his hair before turning back to her. “Now, where were we…”
Before he could finish, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped into view. His presence was commanding, and a long, jagged scar ran down his right cheek, lending him an air of danger.
“You are lucky I arrived when I did, Bedford,” the man said, his voice deep and assured.
Charles turned to him with an expression of gratitude. “That I am.” He gestured towards Eugenie. “Lady Eugenie, allow me to introduce you to Baron Warwicke.”
Eugenie’s eyes widened slightly. “Lord Warwicke.” The infamous war hero. The man so many in London whispered about with both admiration and fear.
A faint smile touched Warwicke’s lips, softening his otherwise severe features. “My lady,” he said, inclining his head. “It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I am a friend of your brother’s.”
Eugenie found herself smiling in return. “I have heard much about you. ”
Warwicke looked amused. “Most of it isn’t true,” he remarked before giving a polite bow. “If you’ll excuse me, I have something to attend to.”
As Warwicke walked away, Eugenie’s gaze lingered. So that was the man everyone spoke of in hushed tones.
Charles’s voice broke through her musings. “When should we marry?”
Her eyes snapped back to him. “As soon as possible.”
A slow grin spread across his face. He took a step closer. “Tomorrow, then?”
“But that would require a special license.”
Leaning in, his voice dropped to a low murmur. “I am not opposed to such a thing, assuming it is agreeable to you. I won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”
A warmth spread through her chest. “I would marry you today, tomorrow, or any day thereafter.” Then a teasing note entered her voice. “But aren’t you worried our marriage will cause a scandal?”
Charles’s lips twitched. “What’s one more scandal?” He lifted his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “All I know is that when I look at you, I see the one I love. The one I need. The one I’m meant to be with.”
“Well,” she whispered, her gaze flicking to his lips, “if you are sure…”
“I have never been so sure of anything in my life.”
Then he kissed her.
It was not a chaste kiss, but one filled with raw emotion, with the depth of all they had been through. It left no room for doubt, no space for hesitation. With every touch, every lingering caress, her worries melted away. He was her future.
When the kiss broke, he pressed his forehead against hers. “From the moment I met you, I knew I didn’t want anyone else. Even when you challenge me at every turn. It will never change. I just want you. ”
A thunderous voice cut through the intimate moment. “Eugenie!”
Eugenie sighed dramatically. “My brother has arrived to ruin the fun.”
Charles straightened as Niles stormed towards them, his expression stark with disapproval.
“Save it, Bedford,” Niles said. “I saw you compromising my sister. I do hope you two are engaged.”
“We are,” Charles confirmed.
“Good.” Niles reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded document. “Elsbeth convinced me to secure a special license for you two. You’ll be married tomorrow.”
Charles lifted a brow. “I… thank you.”
Niles turned his piercing gaze on Eugenie. “And what were you thinking, Sister? You can’t go around donning men’s clothing and breaking up duels.”
“But it worked, didn’t it?” Eugenie countered.
“This time,” Niles responded.
Eugenie looped her arm through Charles’s. “You can’t lecture me anymore, Brother. I am about to be his wife.”
Niles looked unimpressed by her admission. “I am your older brother. Lecturing you is my birthright.”
Charles chuckled. “I have to side with Westcott on this.”
Eugenie gasped. “Traitor.”
He squeezed her hand. “That doesn’t mean I love you any less. But I think we should retire the men’s clothing for now.”
She pretended to look put out. “Very well. But only because you suggested it—not Niles.”
Not looking the least bit amused, Niles asked, “Shall we go home before it grows too late?”
“I can agree to that,” Eugenie said. “But I have to do one thing first.”
Niles exhaled in wary resignation. “Which is?”
Without another word, Eugenie turned towards Charles and, in one swift motion, rose on her toes and pressed her lips against his, knowing words were no longer enough to express what he meant to her.
When she dropped back down, she said, “There. That is all I wanted to do.”
Behind her, Niles groaned audibly. “Eugenie…” he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face as though she tested his patience beyond reason.
She turned to face him with an air of defiance. “You cannot be upset. We are getting married tomorrow.”
Niles muttered something under his breath before replying, “And your wedding cannot come soon enough.” He gestured towards the waiting carriage. “Come, I had your horse secured to the back of the coach. Let us return home before you think of something else to do that will give me more gray hairs.”
With a final glance at Charles, Eugenie took her brother’s arm and allowed him to lead her towards the carriage. The coachman helped her inside, and she settled across from Niles as the door shut with a decisive thud.
As the carriage lurched forward, Niles leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes assessing her carefully. “You rode your horse here.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement of fact.
Eugenie met his gaze evenly. “I did.”
“I know what it must have taken for you to do such a feat.”
“So you know why I had to do it,” she said.
He nodded. “I do. And I must admit…” He let out a reluctant sigh. “I do not fault you for it. I would have done precisely the same thing if Elsbeth had been in trouble.”
Eugenie let that settle between them for a moment, the quiet understanding, the mutual respect. Then, as the coach rattled over the cobblestone streets, she admitted, “I love him.”
“I know,” he said, his tone edged with humor. “In fact, everyone seemed to know that—but you. It was painfully obvious.”
“You have no objections?”
“None,” Niles replied. “I do believe that you and Bedford are good for one another. And I know that Mother and Father would have been proud of you.”
At the mention of their parents, Eugenie felt a sudden tightness in her throat. Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “I hope so.”
“This is all I have ever wanted for you,” Niles said, his voice softer now. “To find love and to be loved in return. It is no less than you deserve.”
Eugenie bit her lower lip as she found herself confessing, “I worry that if something happens to Charles, I will lose a part of myself—just like Grandmother did when her husband died.”
Niles’s expression grew thoughtful. “I used to worry about the same thing,” he admitted. “But then I realized that I cannot predict the future. None of us can. And love… love is something I would not want to live without. Not anymore.”