Page 30 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)

CHAPTER 29

T he request? Breakfast in the morning room, and Rochester hoped like hell it meant good news. Who plans an ambush over sunny eggs and honeyed scones?

“At least you’re on time,” Mr. Markham said when Rochester was announced.

Markham waved him over to a lovely round table set with fine china and crystal. The sun, at Markham’s back, illuminated him like the Christ child with a halo of innocence, and Rochester was glad for the view of the back gardens, a perfectly peaceful reminder to keep his temper in check today.

He didn’t feel like eating but graciously accepted the offered plate filled with buttered eggs, toast, and ham. Scones were set on the table with jam and cream, and tea was poured before either man could speak a word.

Markham used his knife to push a bite of egg onto his fork. His appetite didn’t seem to be affected by Rochester’s presence.

“I’m told you arrived late last night. I apologize I wasn’t there to greet you.”

Rochester cleared his throat and kept his hands busy spreading jam on a scone. “It’s better you didn’t. I was hardly presentable.”

“My steward tells me you rode in.”

“I took advantage of every post to change horses. Your letter sounded urgent.”

“How so since you’ve managed to effectively cancel the banns and foil my plans? It would seem I have all the time now.”

“I won’t apologize for that.”

Markham smirked. “You think that’s why I asked you here?”

“One might say demanded.”

“Feel free to interpret my underlying meaning any way you choose. It doesn’t change anything.” He took a deep breath. “Why are we always at odds?”

Rochester stayed silent. The question was meant to bait him, and he wouldn’t answer the call.

“All right, enough of that. You’ve had plenty of time to speculate. What did you come up with?”

“I can only guess.”

“The blasted banns. You had to make it public, and now Cumberland wants restitution for his time, which I can’t blame him for, but the amount is exaggerated in direct retaliation for your?—”

“Intervention?” Rochester interrupted.

Markham sat back. “Gross public display, in my opinion.”

“Which you can blame yourself for since I had no other choice after you forged a name on a contract and refused to see me. Should I take responsibility for that, too?” Rochester had offered, and at any other time, he’d be happy to pay it, but just now, he was broke.

“Me? You blame me? Your argument might have worked better had you not locked my daughter up in your house for a week!”

Rochester rubbed the tight muscle in the back of his neck. It wouldn’t do to mention she was relieved to have a week to consider her life. Not with Markham spitting fire and angry as a dragon.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

With his mouth gone dry, Rochester wet his lips. “Miss Evelyn informed me of your conversation. I’m simply shocked that you would mention it?”

“Why? Because we’re proper gentlemen, and we don’t speak of such personal matters? Except this one concerns my daughter and the last man I would see her with. Perhaps you’re feeling guilty because something else happened while she was there. Did it?”

“Not that I’m aware.” Hopefully, that sounded solid and not the lie it was because it was frankly none of his business.

“Pardon me? She was under your care, and you don’t know how she fared?”

“No. I mean, of course, nothing happened.” He nervously slid a hand through his hair. In truth, it didn’t matter because her presence in his house was enough to ruin her. “You know she begged me? I suppose she didn’t tell you that.”

“Did she?” Markham crazily looked caught between a scowl and a smile.

“Not at all what you’re thinking, sir. She was desperate to get far away, and I truly felt as if her mental health was at?—”

“A disadvantage?” Now Markham was smiling ear to ear, but still Rochester could not decide if it carried any warmth. What was painfully clear was that Markham seemed to enjoy Rochester’s chagrin.

“If you pardon my frankness, you raised her. You know how stubborn she can be. What would you have had me do when I saw her dangling from a second-story window?”

“What were you doing here in the first place?” Before Rochester could answer, Markham continued. “Oh, yes, the notes. You simply couldn’t resist the notes.”

Rochester watched him closely, tallying the score. Markham knew about the window; he knew about her stay in Mayfair; he knew about the notes. And he must know they traveled alone but nothing else, or he’d have shot Rochester on the spot. “I could, and I did resist the first several, but the last had an edge of…”

“Desperation. Do go on. I’m fascinated.”

He sighed heavily. “Of fear.” He pinned Markham with a look and hoped he conveyed the right amount of stunned concern. “She was afraid of something, but I didn’t know if it was Cumberland. Or you.”

Markham tilted his head, grinding his brows together in a tight grip of pain and scorn. “You dare say such things in my house? She’s my daughter, Rochester. Mine .”

Rochester emotionally pulled back. The words had been unfair, but he wouldn’t take them back. “And I am not disputing that fact. Quite the opposite. I may have honored her request, but I did not intend to take her to my home. And by the way, my cousin Mrs. Lovie Hawke was also there. It’s not as if she didn’t have company, since we both know it’s my company you’re worried about.” He stood. He simply couldn’t sit still any longer. “For God’s sake, she fell out of that window—did she tell you that? Thankfully, I was there to catch her. But she refused to go back inside the house and stubbornly refused to listen to reason, so I agreed to take her to Winn’s.”

“I’m not sure Winn believes you.” Markham stayed seated but rested his elbow against his arm and rubbed his mouth with his index finger like a man noodling through a witness’s statement.

“Winn is as angry as you are, and rightfully so. Do you think I blame you or Winn? No. I do not. And I don’t suffer him for the cuff he gave my jaw, either. It seemed as if I deserved it at the time, which I can promise I did not. But I took it without returning it in kind because if I were in his shoes, I’d have done the same thing.”

“So what happened? Why didn’t you follow through with taking her to Winn’s after she fell out of her bedroom window?”

“Because of the storm. If you’ll recall, it was a grave downpour.”

“I’m listening.”

“We became stuck. The coach wheels were sunk in mud like quicksand. If we hadn’t acted fast, we’d have been stranded for the night in the middle of nowhere. We couldn’t continue on, and I couldn’t bring her back here. She was soaked even though I insisted she stay in the coach. She was determined to help. It was cold. An argument would have gained nothing, so I did the only thing I could. After that, it didn’t seem to matter if she stayed one day or a week because the damage, if anyone found out, had been done.”

“But she wasn’t ruined?”

“No. I like to think I’m a man of honor.” He tried not to roll his eyes and look guilty. In his playbook, he had honored her with his love. “I realize my past will be hard forgotten, but being drunk and losing money is not a crime.”

“No, you left the business of crime to your friend. My son.” He batted a hand in his direction. “Stupidity should be a crime.”

“And I’ve paid my penance for it and you as well.”

“Not quite. There is still the matter of Cumberland.”

Rochester had avoided the subject because he didn’t have the means to make good on his word. If Cumberland chose to file against Markham for breach of promise, it had to be a goodly amount—else, why try?

“Do you recall our conversation?” Markham asked.

He turned his back to the room and to Markham. “I do.”

“And?”

He folded his arms tightly. “What’s the fine?” He threw the question over his shoulder.

“A thousand pounds.”

Rochester flinched. A thousand bloody pounds after the fortune he’d just paid. He didn’t have it and had no way of getting his hands on it. Hudson and Darrington had already fronted him money. His father certainly didn’t have it, quite the opposite. And he couldn’t ask Hawke; his cousin-in-law had a family to protect. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. You have my word.”

“As if that’s good enough.”

Rochester turned, his jaw grinding back and forth. “I believe I’m finished with this conversation. I’ll send the funds as soon as I can. I’ll see my way out.” He quit the room without apology and went in search of Evelyn. He planned to say goodbye and be done. If they had to elope, then so be it.

After grabbing his things from his room, he left a message that Evelyn should meet him in the back gardens before he left Rosewood. Already he’d been standing for thirty minutes near the hedgerow that bordered the walkway leading to the stable.

Evelyn skipped down the terrace steps, elated after having a grand conversation with her father. She expected a lover’s rendezvous but was sorely disappointed when she saw Dalton tapping his foot and shading his eyes while looking toward the sun. “You’re scowling,” she said with a decided upbeat in her voice.

“There you are. I sent that note half an hour ago. Where have you been?” His hands went to his lean hips, and his demeanor demanded attention.

She stopped three steps away. “I don’t care for your attitude.”

“I don’t care for your father’s. He practically threw me out, and I thought it best to say goodbye first.”

She backed up another step, her hand pressed to her chest. “Goodbye? But why? I just came from Papa’s study, and we discussed your finances.”

His face turned an angry red, and his eyes pinned her to the spot. “ My finances! What do you know of my finances, and what gives you the right to discuss them with my enemies?”

“My father is not your enemy, and neither am I. Now, I can understand why you’d say that after everything we’ve been through, what with the banns and the betrothal to Cumberland, but I certainly don’t deserve your anger. I’d think you’d be grateful.”

Tilting his head, he squinted at her. “What exactly did you say to him?”

“I told him that you’re a bit cash-poor, currently, and that if he had any notion of you paying Cumberland’s fine, he should forget it, at least for now. I think he’s close to blessing this wedding.”

“What wedding? At this rate, there won’t be one.”

“Dalton?”

He gave her a menacing look that spoke volumes.

She raised one eyebrow and refused to be intimidated. “What? Am I to be punished for calling you Dalton again?” She delivered the question with cheeky hauteur.

He closed his eyes slowly as if gathering the storm he was stewing in. Then he stalked her. “You try me, Evelyn, you truly do.”

She stood her ground and let him reach for her, his hands warm but firm on her upper arms. “I’d just as soon you kiss me than shout, but do your best, darling.” She calmly measured each word, bravely holding his stern gaze.

He sighed, pulled her forward, and kissed her forehead. He also visibly relaxed. “What did you hope to gain by speaking to your father about my business?”

“A blessing.”

“He’ll never bless us. He doesn’t trust me, and he never will.”

“He’s agreed to give your money back.” She thought her simple statement would put a smile on his face.

“Oh, for the love of God, Evelyn, I won’t take his money.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked several feet away, his back partially turned from her.

“Why?” She truly did not understand. She saw her father’s willingness to help as an olive branch.

“Because I don’t want it.”

“It’s your money.” She leaned to see around his shoulder, her brows knit with concern.

He turned and faced her. “It’s not mine, Evelyn. I owed it to him. He doesn’t owe it back.”

She felt defeated again, like they were always at odds. “At least he wants the best for me. What do you want?”

“Are you trying to wound me?” His hazel eyes penetrated her, and he reached out, grazing her cheek with his knuckles. “I want you. I want to provide for our family. I want to start a life without being indebted to your father.”

“Because of pride? It’s misplaced, Dalton. I can’t believe your unwillingness to accept his offer. What if we have a family right now, inside me?”

“Don’t play me with guilt, please. It’s too early to tell, and besides, children do not make a family. Believe me, I know. People who love each other and want the best for one another. That’s what makes a family.”

She watched him for a quiet moment, then shook her head. “I’m not in the mood for one of your distracting life lessons.”

“Listen to me. I want a life with you, not your father.” He held her face between his palms. “With you,” he whispered. “I can’t do that with money looming over my head.”

She wrapped her arms around his middle and gazed up at him. “Because your father is the kind of man who would lord it over you does not mean that mine will. I don’t say that to hurt you.”

He hugged her to him, resting his chin on her head. His chest expanded with a deep breath, and his arms grew tighter. “Is that what you want? To start a life where your father is still taking care of you?”

She turned her face up, bumping his chin. “You apparently do not understand women.”

That got her a smile.

“Because if you did, you would know what it’s like to depend on others all the time.” She reluctantly pulled out of his arms and walked to a bench. She sat, her fingers gripping the edge of the wooden slats. “What I hear is that you think I’m a spoiled girl because I don’t want to wait to marry you.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever called you a girl.” His eyebrows raised matter-of-factly.

She scowled at him. “How does your boot taste?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “The same as always, and that was not a strike against your age. If anything, it was a compliment.”

“There are times when you are incapable of a compliment.”

“I cannot argue that.” He ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair.

She watched a spider crawl into the flower bed. “If you won’t elope with me and you refuse to take money, then I am left to assume you don’t care for my opinion on the matter. What I want is unimportant. My wishes are like chaff in the wind, and all the blustering hot air is coming from you.”

He looked side to side, then pointed to his chest. “Am I blustering?”

“You were. And despite what you think, I am trying to understand. It’s your pride and your risk.”

“No.” He shook his head and sat beside her. “Evelyn, we’re partners. That’s how I see it. This decision is for you as well as me and our children because if something should happen to us, then our children would assume the damages and debt. I can’t start a life that way.”

“An excellent reason, I agree, and I am all for creating a solid foundation for our family, but your argument assumes a single key for a lock that has many. Our family is bigger than us.”

“We are not starting a family with your father. I cannot allow his say in my ventures. Our ventures.”

“Fine, then we’ll start with my dowry.” She knew her father would not agree to that, but she also knew Dalton would disagree as well. She sighed dramatically, pushing his limits on purpose. “I’m so happy that’s settled.”

He rolled his head to the side and gaped at her. “Far from settled. I dare to tell you that I am not accustomed to the happenings between husbands and wives. My own mentors were nonexistent on that account, but I cannot dislike your independent shortcomings.” He grinned.

She gave him a dry look, silently screaming solidarity for all women. “Shortcomings, indeed. You don’t seem to mind my independent shortcomings in bed.”

“Never.” He tilted her chin and kissed her softly. “I’ll consider your offer and maybe your father’s. Is that a good start?”

“Well, you’d better consider it quickly before I rescind it.” She laced her fingers with his. “Dalton, I can’t know your feelings, but I can understand wanting the best for those you love. And I love you. I don’t care how we get married, and I don’t care where we live—the city, the country—it doesn’t matter. Do you know why? Please say that you do.”

“I can’t live without you either, Goose.”

“Then we look at all the options, and we make it happen. Together. If we go into debt, we do it together. If we sell a property, we do it together. If we buy a bloody candlestick, we do it together.” She smiled and squeezed his hand for emphasis.

He leaned close, his mouth almost touching hers. “On one condition.”

“Anything,” she breathed.

“If we have children, we do it together.”

“I’m willing to practice and work very hard on that.”

He met her lips, and she ignored their proximity to the house, kissing him back with her whole soul. She wrapped her arms around him. He tasted like love and life. When she put her hand on his thigh, he grabbed it, chuckling into her mouth, and she burned for him. All of him, rich or poor.