Page 18 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)

CHAPTER 17

T heir arrival at the Markhams’ residence was a flurry of confused elation. Mrs. Markham, Adeline, did not greet the newcomers. But Winn was in the drive before Evelyn alighted. Rochester checked over his shoulder while holding her hand and helping her down the step.

“I have it, Dalton.”

His gaze snapped to hers. Though he appreciated her using his name, he hoped Winn had not heard his sister refer to him in the familiar.

“Evelyn Markham, thank goodness you’re here. I was ready to send a search party.” Winn ran a hand through his walnut-brown hair and made a quick perusal of Rochester. He could see the muscle in his square jaw popping. Neither said a word.

“Why ever for?” Evelyn asked. “I came straight from Rosewood for a visit.”

“Nice try, Sister.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, but Rochester could see her firm resolve to keep up the pretense, albeit uselessly.

“I received word today asking about your week-long visit,” Winn said as Evelyn visibly flinched. “Father asked if you might be ready to return home since a certain Lord Cumberland is apparently eager for your acquaintance.”

“Well, that is tricky, isn’t it?”

Winn’s face changed from irony to raw irritation, and his pupils filled his otherwise bright amber eyes. He pointed a finger at her. “You don’t say a word to Adeline, do you understand? She has enough to worry over. And,” he continued, reaching behind and grabbing Rochester by the lapel, “Mr. Rochester and I are going to have a friendly chat.” He gritted out the last part.

Rochester gave Evelyn an I told you so glare.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Winn, be nice to him. He saved my life.”

She walked away, both men watching her go, Winn still holding Rochester by the lapel. As soon as she disappeared into the manor, Winn turned on him. He gave Rochester a shove before removing his grip.

“Suppose you tell me where her chaperone is?”

“You’ll have to ask her. I’m not privy to such things.”

Winn shook his head; a storm brewed behind the snorting sigh. “I’m asking you, Rochester, because I thought you were my friend.”

“You know, that’s exactly what your sister said to me. The two of you have the same habit of guilt. A family trait, do you think?”

“Just tell me if I need to call you out.” Winn’s teeth sawed back and forth, and his cheek twitched.

“That depends.”

“Why, for the love of God, Rochester, did you pick her? I trusted you. Am I to suspect you of poor behavior at the Kingsley’s Christmas party too?”

“Should I suspect yours?” Rochester resented the question.

Winn didn’t hesitate at the innuendo, and Rochester never saw it coming. The first blow connected with his jaw. The surprise more than the force knocked him back a step. The second blow he deflected but didn’t return it. He bent his head to the left and spit. No blood, but his jaw was on fire.

“I will allow that one, Winn, but hit me again, and I’ll not pull my punch.”

“You’re wasting your time if you expect an apology.”

“I don’t expect one. For the remark alone, I deserve it. But it hurts that you would question my behavior or loyalty at the Christmas masquerade when you yourself asked me to watch her. And for what, my friend?”

Huffing like a bull, Winn breathed heavily. His gaze traveled the ground, and he shook his head, a look of self-disgust on his face.

“I’ve never asked what happened between you and Adeline. Are you not to offer me the same courtesy?”

“Don’t you talk to me of courtesy.” Winn pointed an accusing finger at Rochester, then pointed toward the house. “She’s my sister!”

“At least invite me in and let me explain.”

Winn didn’t budge. “Have you ruined her?”

“If you’ll just listen.”

“Answer the bloody question. Did. You. Ruin her?”

“No.” It was the absolute truth. He felt good he could say that much. But in every other sense of the word, he had ruined her, and she had ruined him.

The tension in Winn’s body, his whole countenance, visibly relaxed. The cut of his jaw softened. His eyes were less accusing. “I apologize,” he said, having gained some control.

“Don’t apologize, and before you get angry again, hear me out, please. I know your primary concern is for your wife, so let’s talk here, and then I’ll leave.”

“I take it I’m not going to like what I hear.”

“I can’t imagine you will.” Rochester’s heart felt heavy with guilt mixed with raw emotion for Evelyn.

Winn’s nostrils flared, and his teeth grinding returned anew.

Rochester held up his hands. “She’s not ruined. That much is true. If she wants to go home and marry the simpering baron—those are her words, not mine—there’s no reason she can’t do that.”

“I’m listening.” He was, but his arms were crossed, and his feet were spread, cemented to the ground.

“Evelyn had it in her peagoose brain to dissuade this match your father made without her consent. I won’t tell you how because I don’t want you angry with her. You can rage at me all day but leave her be.” He waited for some show of agreement.

“Yes, yes. Fine,” Winn finally said, flipping his hand toward him. “I know how determined Evelyn can be.”

“And a trifle stubborn.”

Winn shut his eyes. “Agreed.”

“In a short span of time, she sent me four messages which, before you make assumptions, I did not answer. But, I did feel compelled to show up at the events she attended. For her sake, I might add, not mine. Obviously, I wished to avoid this kind of thing.”

Winn gave up a sigh. “Thank you. I appreciate you looking out for her.”

“After two weeks of keeping her out of trouble, she sent me the last message I would receive. That one was so full of desperation that I answered it in person.”

“What did it say?”

“One word. Help.”

“That could have meant anything. She can be melodramatic.”

“This was not drama, my friend. By the time I tracked her whereabouts, she’d been at Rosewood for two days. Apparently, this baron was to visit and begin some kind of courtship. I believe the betrothal was ready for a signature, and Evelyn hadn’t even met the man properly except for a brief encounter at the theater.”

“And you know all this because?”

“Because when I dashed off to Rosewood, I found her climbing out a window in the middle of the godforsaken night. And it’s a good thing I showed up because she took a tumble from the trellis. Your father wasn’t there. I believe the betrothal is what she was trying to avoid.”

“God forbid. Was she hurt?” There was real concern etched on Winn’s face.

“The goose was fine. I caught her, and my backside took the brunt of it.” He paused for a reaction regarding his part but none came. Rochester chuckled. “I’m fine, really, no broken bones. Not a one.” He mocked, hoping his usual humor would diffuse the situation.

Winn rolled his eyes skyward. “Any bruises?” he mocked. “Did you muss your favorite waistcoat?” Winn smirked.

“Your concern warms my heart.”

“Finish already.”

“I tried to convince her to stay at Rosewood. To meet this man. That perhaps she would like him. I told her that your father wanted the best for her. He always has.”

Winn looked him up and down. “He’s going to kill you, you know that?”

“I’ve little doubt.”

“My father thinks she’s been on holiday rusticating here for a week. So where has she been? I stood right here and heard her address you as Dalton. No one calls you Dalton.”

Rochester scratched his head and grimaced. “That’s a little more difficult.” Not many called him by his given name, which was true. His mother had, his cousins might, and every great now and again, Winn or Darrington had called him Dalton. But it wasn’t the norm, and Evelyn had used it with familiarity.

Rochester tried to explain. “That night, I insisted she come here because she refused to go back home. I put her in my coach, and we set out for here, but it was pouring rain, and the roads were flooded. The mud was so thick the horses could not trudge through, much less the coach wheels. We nearly got stuck for a night. Quite literally. When we managed to pull the coach free from the sucking mud, there was nothing else to do but turn around.”

“But not Rosewood.”

“No.”

Winn stared at him for a long, breath-holding moment. “You could have taken her to Lady Clover’s if not home.”

Rochester swallowed. “Winn, you weren’t there. I couldn’t do that. It would have involved Lady Clover’s silence, not to mention Kingsley’s. There was no chance of that and no choice left to me. Besides, it was nearly dawn by the time we reached Mayfair.”

“God’s teeth, Rochester! You took her to your home?”

He nodded.

Winn rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck from side to side. “And you did nothing for a week? You told no one for a week?” Winn’s tone was understandably accusatory.

“Winn,” Rochester said quickly. “I’m in love with her. I couldn’t take her back to Rosewood.”

“He’ll never agree, especially now,” Winn said of his father.

“I have to try, don’t I? Should I stand by while she’s forced to marry another man? Would you do that? Better yet, would you want that for her?”

“Of course not. But it doesn’t mean I want you, either. You forget how well I know you.”

“We all have done things we’re not proud of. Those three years exiled to Bath…” Rochester shook his head. “All of us, Winn. Darrington too. Drunk most nights, carousing the rest. We were young. But you’ve changed, so why can’t I?”

Winn scrubbed his face. “You think I want to hate you? Dammit.” He sighed, frustration in every movement.

“I didn’t plan on this. I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Not ruined, that’s what you say, but I know you, Rochester. How? If you loved her, then how could you?”

Rochester licked his lips. “I’ve not lied.”

“Did you kiss her?”

“Oh, for the love of God, what do you think? You’re not her father, Winn. Support her choices. That’s what a brother does.”

Winn gave him a sharp look. “As if you’d know.”

That one hurt. It wasn’t Rochester’s choosing to be ostracized or for his brother to make accusations that were not only painful but not true. He had the joy of his cousins from his mother’s side. But Rochester had painfully allowed his brother to steal and manipulate his father’s side. Winn knew where to hit, and that was low.

“Should I ask how Evelyn feels about this? What will I find out from her answers?”

“She’s a grown woman, Winn. Ask her yourself.” Rochester quickly lost patience with the conversation. He understood Winn’s position, but he was sorely tired of being treated like a child.

They stared at one another, neither looking away, neither relenting. And then Winn shook his head. “I shouldn’t have said that about your family. I’m just angry and not at you. I’m angry with my father because he’s put her in this position, and I know why. He sees me married. He sees Evelyn’s best friend, and he expects that it’s time. He’s not a bad man, just a hurting one.”

“Aren’t we all? It’s not an excuse. And Winn?”

“What?”

“Don’t ever ask me again for an accounting of my private affairs and of what goes on between me and the woman I love. I don’t care who she is to you. Your concern should be who she is to me.”

Winn bit back a retort behind his clamped teeth and put out his hand. “My sister? But she’s so irritating.”

Rochester took Winn’s hand as they both chuckled. “Then I suppose that will be my punishment.”

“I hope so. I truly do, Rochester. But you’re not married yet, and at this rate, you won’t be because I believe the betrothal has been signed, and the first week of banns have been read.”

“How is that possible without Evelyn’s consent?”

“An old parish vicar who knows the family doesn’t need something so trivial as consent.”

“Well, that bloody well changes things.”

“Dare I ask how?”

“No. Just give me the name of the parish.”

“You’ll create a scandal.”

“Which you can blame on your father if he won’t see me first.”

Rochester wanted to say goodbye to Evelyn, but he knew Winn’s concern for his wife would override Rochester’s desire to see Evelyn again.

It didn’t matter. Time was of the essence. He had two weeks to change Mr. Henry Markham’s mind.