Page 20 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)
CHAPTER 19
E velyn woke to the sound of tapping, and she immediately stretched her arm over the cold spot next to her where Rochester had lain. She knew he had to leave before sunup, but she wished he had woken her beforehand, although she had a faint memory of a whisper of a kiss on her shoulder. Even if it had been a dream, she’d keep it in her heart as truth.
The tap came again, along with the smooth sound of well-oiled hinges and someone stepping lightly into the room.
“Oh, good. I haven’t interrupted your morning toilette.” Addy turned toward the cold grate. “It’s freezing. I’ll have someone light the fire.” She turned to pull the bell cord and then stopped.
Evelyn sat up, clutching the sheets to her naked body and wishing she had thrown on a chemise last night. But she couldn’t resist sleeping next to Dalton without a scrap between them. His skin had been like living heat, and his arms a safe place to fall. Even if he couldn’t stay the entire night, she relished the memory of him there.
Now, however, she had a new problem. Not so much Addy, but the sheets, the maids, and whether she should disclose to her friend what she’d done.
While Adeline’s hand was arrested on the bell pull, her gaze swept from the hearth to the night rail flung over a chair, to Evelyn and the muss of bedclothes. Evelyn bit her lip, waiting for Addy to say something. Anything.
Adeline’s gaze lifted to meet Evelyn’s. “Too warm for a fire and a night rail?” Addy asked with mocking incredulity.
“Apparently.” Evelyn grimaced her lip between her teeth. “Are your maids bribable?”
“Stay here.” Adeline left the room, and Evelyn took the reprieve to grab a chemise. She looked back to the bed where she’d slept on a towel, avoiding the obvious outcome of her and Dalton’s lovemaking.
When Addy returned, she found Evelyn sitting at the vanity, pulling a brush through her wild hair.
“It’s taken care of. Now, are you going to tell me what happened here?”
“Must I?”
“Probably not,” Addy said, looking at the bed again. “But I’m dying to know, all the same.”
“Have a seat.” She pointed with the hairbrush toward two comfortably stuffed chairs.
Her friend selected a pretty pink- and-white-striped chair set by the fireplace.
Evelyn gathered herself with a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You mustn’t tell Winn, please.”
“Of course not. We’re friends, Evelyn. The very best of friends. You know how this happened.” She pointed to her stomach. “I trusted you with my foibles. Although, I rather think they were bits of whimsical genius.”
Evelyn giggled, holding a hand to her mouth. “I think so, too.” She cleared her throat. “He showed up here last night having snuck back from the town where he’s supposed to be staying. He rode in on a donkey cart if you can believe that.”
Now Addy laughed. “It’s precious.”
“I stayed with him for a week”—she paused, looking at anything but her friend—“although we had encounters, none of them had actual proof.”
“I see. So why last night, if I understand your meaning, did he come here to finish the task?”
“I begged him to before we left Mayfair, but he refused because he believed, and still does, that my father won’t allow a marriage.”
“What a dolt,” Addy said, then she corrected, “Not your father, but Rochester. Did he imagine you’d marry someone else?”
“No, I don’t think so. He feels as if he’s done so much wrong to my family that this would be unforgivable.”
“What would be unforgivable is if he watched you marry another.”
“He couldn’t have done that. I know he couldn’t. He needed time to understand and accept that whatever happens, we’ll be together.”
“Are you speaking of elopement?”
“Oh, I offered him everything, Addy. Mistress, paramour, elopement, anything. Except those will shame my father in the same way my disagreeing at the altar would.”
“So, he came here to make sure there is a wedding?”
She nodded. “At my request. Not here, I mean, but the consummation part was my idea. He’s been nothing but honorable to me, and he’s protected me all Season from my own erratic ideas.”
“Like breaking the rules?” Addy smiled sheepishly. “Like Winn and I did at the masquerade?”
“Something like that. When Rochester wouldn’t help me break the rules, I took matters into my own hands.”
“Evelyn, you didn’t.”
“I tried. I was desperate. My hope was to drive away this baron, whom I hadn’t even met before a contract was made. And Rochester, in his wise equilibrium for rightness, made certain I didn’t defame myself in doing so. He rescued me in the dead of night—in the pouring rain—and tried to bring me here, but we became stuck in the mud. He had no choice but to either take me back to Rosewood, where I would have been forever brokenhearted, or take me to his home.”
“Who knows you were there?”
“You. And I imagine Winn does now. But nothing permanent happened there. That part is true, and the part that Winn was most angry about.”
“For good reason.”
Evelyn didn’t blame Adeline for defending her husband, and in truth, she knew Addy was right. Winn did have good reason to believe Rochester had acted untoward. And in truth, he had, but not to the full extent. “My father cannot know, and if he believes I’ve been here for a week…” She let the rest hang between them.
“I’m terrible at lying, but I won’t offer any information.”
“Thank you. What do you think Winn will do?”
“If he doesn’t know that Rochester snuck in here last night, then I believe it’s a matter of accepting that you love him and Rochester loves you. And that, my darling, has been obvious for some time.” Addy sighed. “Now, for the important bits. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? I remember being a bit sore the next day.”
“I feel full and in love and so happy to have a confidante.”
“How about a soothing bath with chamomile?”
“Would you stay with me? I don’t want help, just company, and it seems awkward having a maid in here under the circumstances.”
Addy nodded. “I’ve already arranged for my personal maid to make up the room. There won’t be any repercussions. And I’d be happy to keep you company.”
First things first, Rochester sent word to Evelyn’s father requesting an audience, which the man denied as expected. He then sought out the parish church where the Markhams attended. If Winn was correct, then he had just two weeks to convince the parish priest that the wedding should be canceled. And he needed to do it all without sullying Evelyn’s name. Claiming an appeal on the grounds of amorous congress would not gain him an ally with her father, or Winn, or Evelyn for that matter.
But what a sweet joining they’d had. He couldn’t be more in love if he had invented the notion. After kissing her shoulder, he’d whispered in her ear that he loved her. Her sweet surrender razed him on the spot. His soul belonged to her. His heart embraced the ruination of his sanity. His reality was made complete in her, and he was nothing without her.
Falling in love was easy. Peacefully dissolving the betrothal contract of a stranger was not.