Page 31 of For a Scandalous Wager (Breaking the Rules of the Beau Monde #3)

CHAPTER 30

“ M iss Evelyn,” Mr. Holcomb said, hurrying to a stop, his face respectfully turned away and partially hidden by the hedgerow where she and Dalton sat close together.

Dalton helped her stand.

“What’s the urgency, Mr. Holcomb?”

“It’s Master Winn and Mistress Adeline. They request your immediate presence.”

She turned to Dalton. “It must be the baby. You can’t leave now.” She tried to keep desperation from seeping through, but she couldn’t face her father alone at a time like this. His worry could fill an ocean.

“Of course, I’m staying.” And then to the butler, he said, “We’ll be right there.”

Evelyn held tight to Rochester’s hand as they entered the study, where Mr. Holcomb informed them her father was waiting. She left Rochester several feet behind her and stepped forward to ease her father’s concerns, which were written in the pull of his brow and the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “What’s the news?”

Her father looked from her to Rochester. “It would seem the babe is coming.”

“What can we do?” Rochester moved farther into the room.

“She’ll need you, Evelyn. Can you handle it?”

Her father spoke more of himself than Evelyn. She wondered how he would handle a babe coming into the world seemingly early. She nodded. “What did the letter say?”

“Winn wrote that Adeline wishes you there, and I am to bring you as soon as possible.”

“I’m not leaving Rochester here. We’re all going, and I won’t hear another word about it. I need his support, Papa.”

Her father looked astutely toward Rochester. “Winn is your friend. I’m certain he could use the distraction. We’re leaving as soon as the horses are harnessed, so I suggest you pack Evelyn,” her father announced, leaving no room to argue.

“With all due respect, sir, I have a horse.”

“Congratulations,” her father said blandly. “You’re the budding owner of a horse. Believe me when I say your choice is my preference, but my daughter will be an unbearable travel companion if I allow it, and I’m too worried, if you must know, to argue with either one of you.”

Evelyn shot Dalton a pleading look while she reassured her father. “I’m sure the doctor is there, and everything will be fine.”

“I’ll see to the horses and help with any luggage,” Dalton said. “Why don’t you have a seat, sir?”

“Yes, Papa, you’re as pale as an eighteenth-century powdered dandy.”

He smiled weakly at that. “And just as handsome.”

“Always,” she said as she patted the back of a well-stuffed chair. Rochester dipped his head furtively toward her, and she mouthed thank you before he quit the room.

Evelyn requested the butler to keep a sharp eye on her father, who seemed to be preoccupied with his own memories, while she packed a small valise and transported it out front where Dalton was loading the coach.

“I’ll get Papa, and we can be on our way.”

After passing off the last bag, Dalton turned and quickly grabbed her arm, his brows drawn. “Are you worried? Or did you expect this?”

She knew what he was asking. Was the babe on time? Or was it early? “I’m not worried,” she reassured him. He seemed to relax a little.

“This trip is going to be hell, you know that, don’t you?”

“Only because he’s fearful and distressed. There are many ghosts here for him, so whatever you do, do not upset him. Please? For my sake?”

He rubbed her cheek. “I’ll do my best, Goose.”

Evelyn sat next to her father while Dalton took up the opposite seat. She was desperate to ease her father’s fear and searched for a safe topic for conversation, anything but betrothals, contracts, and investments. All subjects that women were encouraged to avoid. She caught Dalton’s gaze and gave him a barely noticeable prodding nod.

He cleared his throat. “What an exciting event. I know Evelyn is beside herself with joy at becoming an aunt. I can only guess what you must feel like, sir, to be made a grandfather. A great privilege.”

With Evelyn’s arm linked through her father’s, she felt tension and his thumping pulse under her hand.

“A very great privilege, let’s hope.” The cryptic response spoke volumes, and an eerie silence fell over the cabin.

Evelyn tried to ignore it. The echoing chasm between the two men was greater than the distance between the coach seats.

Her father’s coach was almost as luxurious as Dalton’s. The tufted squabs were a more conservative tan color, but the brass buttons were an accent above most because they were embossed with her mother’s favorite flower, a tulip. The studs were her father’s choice over the customary silk-covered ones that the trimmer had argued for.

The well-padded walls muffled the sounds of jingling tack and made the occasional creak of the wheels less noticeable. The cabin bounced on its springs as they drove over a rough patch, reminding her of the ride with Dalton the night they escaped from Rosewood in the rain.

Across the expanse, his boot bumped against her foot, grabbing her attention. Dalton raised a solitary eyebrow; his arms were folded, and she imagined him thinking about the same incident where they passed this particular part of the road. The coach swayed and dipped as Dalton grabbed the strap for leverage, and Evelyn gripped her father more securely.

She took the opportunity to lean close to the window and peer out. “Papa.” She patted his arm as she continued to watch the terrain pass. Trees lined the way, and deep ditches ran parallel to the road for collecting rainwater. Her heart lurched when she realized how close they’d come that night to falling into a trench, something she had failed to notice before.

Evelyn tugged her father’s coat sleeve. “This is where we became stuck. Do you see how the road has dried in cakes? It’s been repaired nicely, but there are still remnants of the horrible storm.”

Her father leaned toward the opposite window and explored for himself. He grunted, and to Evelyn’s surprise, her father knocked on the roof.

Dalton caught her eye and shrugged.

“Put the steps down,” her father called to the footman as he moved from his seat, preparing to leave. Barely waiting for the steps, he lunged forward and left her and Dalton alone, staring at one another.

“What do you think he’s doing out there?” she asked Dalton.

He turned up an ironic smile. “Isn’t it obvious? He’s looking for proof to corroborate the story.”

“Do you think it wise if you show him precisely where the wheels sank and perhaps the drive where we turned about?”

“I’m not showing him a thing. If my word is not good enough, I’d just as soon not say another.” He folded his arms again. Everything about him was closed off, even to her. His smile lacked sparkle, and his gaze was indifferent.

She bit her lip. “Dalton?”

He gazed at her, and for a moment, she saw him as he was that night. The man so concerned for her well-being that he’d stolen away with her in the middle of a storm that had quickly turned her life into a hurricane—wild, unpredictable, and frightening at times. Her heart gave an aching leap.

“Thank you for coming. I know how difficult this must be for you. It means a lot to me that you’d agree to ride with us.”

He fanned his fingers where they gripped his folded arms. “I’m not good with fathers, and the reasons for that have little to do with yours. Although, I’m not denying he has been a thorn in my side.”

“What happened when you went home?”

He gave her a penetrating look and then sighed, uncrossing his arms. “Nothing. Now’s not a good time to discuss my home life or my upbringing. Which I’m sure you’d agree is not all glitter and cakes.”

“I wouldn’t say so. But I would say that you are a stubborn man.”

“Touché, my dear.”

“Will you promise, when you’re ready, to share your past with me? Someday? A decade from now will do.” She wobbled a smile.

His beautiful mouth, that kissed her so tenderly and ravished her with heat and desire, was now resolute and hard as granite, seeming to hold in pain more than anger. He looked away. “Someday.” As if he regretted his tone, his gaze swept back to her. He reached across the seats and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I survived my childhood because I had Lovie and Hudson, not because I had a good father or even a brother.” He gave her hands a little tug. “But Noah and I have come to an agreement, and I think there’s hope on that account.”

She wanted to cry because that was more than he’d ever said before. “Thank you for trusting me.”

He let go and sat back, leaning his head against the squabs, watching her leisurely with a rakehell smile. “I don’t trust you, my dear. You stole my heart when I thought I’d guarded it rather well.”

“And I’m not giving it back, but I will be happy to pay the fine.”

“With interest.”

“I shall bring my best negotiator.”

“You may bring the goose but not your father.” He winked, preferring her goose-like behavior above everything.

They smiled secretly as Evelyn’s father opened the door and placed himself effectively between their lover’s discussion.

“Well, it would seem there are a good many deep gutters out there.”

She glared at Dalton as he rolled his eyes, but she spoke to her father. “Can you see how dangerous it was for us?”

“I grudgingly concede, my dear.”

“I suppose it’s too much for you to apologize to Dalton?”

“Dalton? I see where this is going.”

Dalton rubbed his eye with an index finger. “I don’t need your father’s concession or an apology for something I had no control over.”

Her father grunted.

“You two are very much alike, do you know that?”

Both men looked at Evelyn.

“You are. And I’m not certain it’s a good thing. Stubborn to a fault.”

Now Dalton and her father looked at each other. Her father smirked, and Dalton chuckled, and before she knew what happened, they were both grinning and laughing.

“If I’d known an insult would have you men acting so agreeable, I’d have thrown you plenty several weeks ago.”

“I’m not sure about you, Mr. Rochester, but she’s thrown plenty my way.”

“Oh, I’ve had my share, I vow.”

Evelyn let out a hardy breath. She wanted to fold her arms and glare at them, but her heart raced with the joy of seeing the two most important men in her life laughing, even if it was only nerves that caused it.

She rubbed her earlobe, hiding a smile. For the rest of the journey, there was companionable silence, the sort of quiet that amiable travelers partake in.