Page 17 of A Wife for the Beast (Scandals and Second Chances #6)
"Higgins will show you out," he said with the sort of dismissive finality that marked the end of the interview. "I trust you can find suitable accommodations in the village, as Ravenshollow Manor will not be offering hospitality to uninvited guests."
Edmund's smile grew sharper at this deliberate breach of family courtesy, though he maintained his facade of wounded innocence. "How unfortunate. Though I suppose reduced circumstances sometimes make hospitality challenging. Good day, cousin. Your Grace."
The bow he offered Evangeline lingered just slightly longer than strict propriety required, his pale eyes studying her face with an intensity that made Lucian's protective instincts flare dangerously.
Then he was gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of expensive cologne and the sort of atmospheric poison that marked truly skilled practitioners of social warfare.
"Well," Evangeline said after Higgins had escorted their unwelcome visitor from the premises, "that was certainly illuminating."
Lucian found himself studying her face with anxious intensity, searching for signs that Edmund's subtle poison had found its mark. "I apologise for subjecting you to such an unpleasant encounter. Edmund has always possessed a talent for causing maximum discomfort with minimum effort."
"He is concerned about the succession, I take it?"
"He is concerned about his own financial difficulties and had hoped to remedy them through inheritance rather than honest effort," Lucian replied with bitter accuracy. "My survival and subsequent marriage have complicated his expectations in ways that he finds inconvenient."
"I see. And his suggestions about the validity of our marriage—are such challenges legally possible?"
The direct question struck at the heart of his deepest fears about their situation.
"They are possible, though not necessarily successful.
Edmund would need to prove either that I lacked the mental capacity to consent to marriage or that you were somehow coerced into accepting my proposal.
Neither accusation would be easy to substantiate. "
"Yet he seemed quite confident in his threats."
"Edmund has always been confident in his ability to manipulate situations to his advantage. Confidence, however, is not the same as capability."
Evangeline moved to the window overlooking the estate grounds, her expression thoughtful as she gazed out at the landscape that had become her new domain. "What manner of man is he, truly? Beyond the obvious charm and questionable motives?"
The question required careful consideration, for Edmund's true nature was complex enough to defy simple characterization.
"He is intelligent, ruthless, and entirely without scruple when his interests are at stake.
He possesses considerable social skills and has never hesitated to use them in service of his ambitions.
He is also, I believe, genuinely desperate at this point—a combination that makes him particularly dangerous. "
"Desperate in what way?"
"Gaming debts, primarily, though I suspect his difficulties extend beyond mere cards and dice.
Edmund has always lived far beyond his means, expecting to inherit sufficient wealth to discharge his obligations eventually.
My survival and subsequent marriage have complicated those expectations considerably. "
"I see. So, we may expect further visits of this nature?"
"Almost certainly, though I suspect they will take different forms as Edmund explores various avenues of attack. He is nothing if not persistent when he sets his mind to achieving a particular objective."
Lucian found himself wondering what other weapons his cousin might deploy in his campaign to discredit their marriage.
Edmund possessed both the social connections and the financial motivation to make their lives considerably more difficult than they had been thus far.
The thought of Evangeline being subjected to public scrutiny and potential humiliation on Edmund's account filled him with the sort of bitter self-incrimination that had become his constant companion.
She had married him to escape destitution, accepting a practical arrangement that should have provided security and position.
Instead, she now faced the possibility of scandal and legal challenges that were entirely his responsibility to bear.
He had failed in his fundamental obligation to protect her from the consequences of his own damaged circumstances.
"Lucian," Evangeline said quietly, turning from the window to face him with the sort of direct gaze that seemed to see through his carefully maintained facades, "you must know that whatever your cousin's machinations, I will not be driven away from our arrangement.
I entered this marriage with full knowledge of its practical nature, and I am not easily intimidated by threats or manipulation. "
The statement was delivered with characteristic directness, though he noted that she spoke of their marriage as an arrangement rather than anything more personal.
She was offering him loyalty based on their business agreement, nothing more, and he found himself both grateful for her steadfastness and painfully aware of its limitations.
"You may come to regret such resolve," he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of his accumulated disappointments.
"Edmund can be quite persuasive when he chooses to be.
And he will certainly attempt to convince you that your interests would be better served by distance from your current circumstances. "
"Then he will discover that his persuasive abilities have distinct limitations," she replied with the sort of quiet determination that marked her most resolute moments. "I am not easily swayed by charm or threats, as I believe you have observed."
The reference to their own combative courtship brought a wry twist to his scarred features. "Indeed, I have. Though Edmund possesses certain advantages in such matters that I decidedly lack."
"Such as?"
"An unscathed face, for one. A more agreeable disposition, for another. The sort of easy charm that appeals to women of sense and refinement."
"How curious," Evangeline said with a thoughtful expression that suggested she was considering his words carefully. "I found him rather calculated, actually. All surface polish with something quite unpleasant lurking beneath. Like a sword with a jeweled hilt concealing a blade gone to rust."
The observation was so apt that it surprised a brief smile from him despite the grimness of their circumstances. "That is perhaps the most accurate assessment of Edmund's character that I have ever heard."
"Then I am glad to have been of service," she replied with the sort of businesslike efficiency that characterized their best interactions. "Though I confess myself curious about his financial difficulties. How serious are they, do you suppose?"
"Serious enough to make him desperate, which is the most dangerous state imaginable for a man of his particular talents. I suspect we have not seen the last of Viscount Pembroke's interest in our domestic arrangements."
As if summoned by their conversation, a commotion in the courtyard outside drew their attention to the window, where Edmund could be seen mounting his horse with considerably less grace than he had displayed during their interview.
His expression, no longer masked by social courtesy, revealed the sort of cold fury that suggested their conversation had not proceeded entirely as he had hoped.
"He does not appear to be departing in the best of spirits," Evangeline observed with evident satisfaction.
"No, though I suspect that will only make him more determined to find alternative approaches to achieving his objectives."
"Then we shall have to be more determined in defending against them," she replied with the sort of calm resolve that reminded him of why their practical arrangement had seemed so promising despite its lack of romantic foundation.
As they watched Edmund disappear down the drive in a cloud of dust and evident displeasure, Lucian found himself reflecting on the peculiar nature of his circumstances.
He had gained a wife whose intelligence and strength he genuinely respected, yet he remained as isolated and damaged as he had been before their marriage.
Evangeline's presence in his life represented security and companionship, but it could not heal the fundamental wounds that war had inflicted upon both his body and his spirit.
The future remained as uncertain and fraught with difficulties as it had ever been, though now those difficulties threatened not merely his own welfare but that of a woman who deserved far better than the complications his damaged existence inevitably attracted.
Edmund's visit had served as a stark reminder that some problems could not be solved through practical arrangements or mutual respect, no matter how genuine such feelings might be.
He was still a scarred, bitter man whose presence brought more trouble than comfort to those unfortunates enough to be bound to his fate. Marriage had not changed that fundamental reality, and he suspected it never would.