Page 28 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)

CHAPTER 27

A fter Evelyn’s outrageous actions at the church, challenging the banns, she had returned home to a quiet house. Although it brimmed with servants along with her father in residence, Rosewood Manor could not have been any more silent. Her father had received word of her shenanigans before she had a chance to explain and refused to speak to her.

In fact, she abandoned her place at the dining room table where her papa’s silence had become oppressive and continued her meals in her room. So when she heard her name bellowed, echoing from the foyer, bouncing off the high ceiling, and ricocheting off the second-floor walls, she jumped to her feet, dropping a book of short stories from her lap. She hurried from her room, dashing down the hallway until she practically slid into the polished railing that surrounded the gallery.

In the middle of the foyer, her father stood as stony-faced as the marble floor. With his neck tipped back to see her and his jaw resolute, he yelled, “Are you happy now?”

Seeking a proper response from her bumbling head when they hadn’t spoken for almost a week was nearly impossible.

“Get down here,” her father said, pointing to the floor, then he marched in the direction of his study, out of sight before Evelyn moved from the balcony.

She proceeded on shaky limbs, her soft slippers shushing along the waxed floor. The doors to the study stood open, and her father had already taken his place of authority at the hearth. Sitting at his desk would have been better for her nerves, but the mantel generally meant a tedious lecture. Now, if there were only a bust of Wellington opposite his stance, he would look official. The ridiculous mental picture lifted her spirits.

She sat on the sofa facing her father, her hands primly folded and waited for the storm.

“Do you know what this is?” Her father held up a folded piece of paper, shaking it as he spoke.

“A contract?”

“Does it look like a contract?”

“I wouldn’t know since I’ve never been consulted on one.”

“You’re not clever enough for that, dear girl,” her father said, leaning in for emphasis.

“The contract or the cheeky response?”

“Evelyn Markham, you try my patience, and I’m not certain you want to do that.”

She sighed while readjusting her skirts. “My apologies, but you haven’t spoken a word to me since I’ve returned, and I know for a fact you’re aware of my actions at the church.”

“Your foolish actions? Yes, I’m aware and am paying for it now, quite literally.” He tossed the paper on the table.

It was from Cumberland, an official cancellation of the betrothal contract, and a fine for breaking it.

“What say you now?”

“I still say I did not see a contract or sign one. Can you imagine my embarrassment when it took a trip to our local parish to appeal the banns?”

Her father shook his head to clear whatever words were about to fall out of his mouth. No doubt they would not have been kind. “Evelyn,” he said slowly, more controlled than before. “Let us not speak of embarrassment, shall we? I think it best if we agree on that.”

“I concede that point.”

“Lovely. Then tell me why you would stand up in a church—our church—and announce that you’re not in love with Lord Cumberland?”

“I don’t believe those were the words I actually said. But I did ask if he loved me or my dowry more, in not so many words.”

“How could you? Why not?—”

“Come to you, Papa? What a notion when that is the first thing I did.”

“Oh, no, my dear. You did not come to me. You went to him .”

Him being Rochester, of course. “I went to the man who could and would help me. A man I happen to love with all my heart, by the way, which you might have known had you consulted me about Cumberland in the first place.”

“I didn’t think you’d object to being a baroness. But I see a viscountess was more to your liking.” He shook his head vigorously as she sat with her mouth agape. Her father held up a hand. “That was not called for, I know. My apologies, but for God’s sake, I swear I don’t have a clue how to do this.” He looked wildly about the room, his eyes batting away a watery sheen. “I’m just a man who hasn’t the foggiest notion how to raise a daughter in these times.”

Once again, Evelyn’s throat constricted at the depth of her father’s grief. She couldn’t fault him for it, but she shouldn’t be made a victim of it either. “Aren’t we all learning, Papa? You most of all. If you think you’ve been a poor father, then you’re gravely mistaken. But in the matter of my happiness, I should imagine that I am a better judge.”

He gave her a half smile and a glance full of devotion. “Do you think I want anything else? I need to know you’ll be taken care of, and love isn’t always the most reliable source.”

“Nor is money. And I’m sure Rochester will pay the fine.”

“He has said as much, but Lord Cumberland wants a thousand pounds for his damaged pride.”

“I spoke with Lord Cumberland, and he has no ill-will toward me. He was under the impression that I agreed on the contract, and that I signed it.” She held her father’s gaze. “Did I sign it? Did it carry my signature?”

Her father rubbed his forearm. “Not exactly your signature if not your name. I believe the handwriting was mine.” His voice grew quiet.

She smiled. “As I suspected. I can’t imagine why you didn’t consult me first. I admit it angered me to hear it, but I know you want the best for me. What I don’t understand is why it can’t be Rochester. Has he not made amends?”

“Has he told you the whole story of his part in the debacle that Winn got himself wrapped up in?”

“I believe he has.” She fell silent, waiting as her father’s temper cooled.

“He did come here and force money upon me.”

“How dare he,” she said sheepishly. Her father tried not to smile.

“A man capable of squandering such a fortune on a game of chance is not trustworthy or disciplined enough to support a family. He can’t know what that means.”

“What about Winn? Is he not a good husband for Adeline because he manipulated a card game to even the odds because his friends had been taken advantage of?”

“His friends were drunk. Did he tell you that too?”

She laughed, shaking her head, feeling a loose curl tickle her neck and wishing Rochester was there. “Drunk young men. How scandalous. And normal.”

“How foolish. And childish.”

“Have you never done anything so foolish in your life?”

“No,” he said, then softened his gaze. “But your mother’s father might have said differently. And I will admit that my part in this fiasco was too foolish by half. Control is difficult to relinquish when a father is talking about his favorite daughter.”

“His only daughter.” She wanted to cry. She could see his heart opening, and his soul bared to all the pain and loss he’d experienced. She felt it, too. “You like him, Papa, but your pride won’t say so. He’s paid you back, and he’s made amends. Can we not forgive and start again? Will you please reconsider Rochester?”

“I’d be surprised if you hadn’t planned an elopement.” He turned away and sat on an adjacent chair to the sofa. “Before you reply, please know I want to see my daughter walk down the aisle, and I would be humble enough to beg that you not elope.”

“No one is eloping.” It might be a lie; she wasn’t quite sure. Not yet. “If Rochester pays the fine as promised, will you bless us?”

He scratched his forehead. “We shall see.”

“May I ask a favor?”

He gave a simple nod.

“Would you make my dowry available to use as I please?”

His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I wish to be a helpmate to my husband.”

“Number one: you do not have a husband. Number two: your dowry is to be your future should you ever need it. So, the answer is no. And do not ask me again.” He added as an afterthought. “Did he ask for your dowry?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Has he bothered to ask for your hand?”

Evelyn grimaced.

“I didn’t think so.”

How could she explain to her papa that Rochester’s actions spoke volumes of love that went far beyond any formal gesture. He’d rescued her time and again. He’d loved her so completely and thoroughly, and he’d been her safe place to fall, quite literally. “If you will but hear me out before you pass judgment, perhaps I can persuade you to give him a chance. There are things I think you should know. Information that would help you understand what kind of man he is.”

He lifted his hands helplessly. “How much worse can it get? I’m listening.”