Page 19 of Hot Duke Summer

“M y mother is coming here?” Victor asked his trusted valet. “With her guests?”

“With your guests. Yes, Your Grace.”

“And you are—”

“The visiting vicar,” Mr. Sloan provided.

Eva could mourn later. For now, she needed to work with the duke’s clever valet. “Of course, because the duchess—”

“—doesn’t know me from Adam.” Mr. Sloan twisted his mouth into a crooked smile and then shuffled uncomfortably. “My apologies, Your Grace. But time is short and Miss Sparrow needs to either leave or hide. As soon as the duchess ordered the coach, I dashed over here. Which means they aren’t far behind me.”

Evalina ought to be embarrassed—scandalized, in fact. Because the valet had no doubt witnessed that kiss.

A kiss. Such a soft little word to describe an event that had given unfathomable meaning to her life.

She would not regret it! Perhaps, if nothing else, she’d reminded Victor that there was more to life than duty and tradition.

But when the duchess arrived, Evalina would once again be just a companion.

The thought was immediately followed by a tightening in her chest, and she looked up at her duke.

At Victor. Because she could not. Of course she could not!

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She would submit her resignation tomorrow, return home, and assist her mother.

They’d have questions, of course. She’d simply explain that she’d become… homesick.

Her father wouldn’t believe her, but her mother would be grateful for an extra pair of hands.

“I’ll walk back.” Eva gave a weak smile, picked up his jacket off the floor, and held it out for Victor to take. He grasped her wrist instead.

“No.” He was shaking his head. “I brought you here. You’ll return with me.”

A sweet sentiment, but one that would cause more harm than good at this point. “It’s all right.” She met and held his gaze, conveying more than her willingness to walk through the rain. He had kissed her, awakening the passion they’d both kept in check.

It was something she’d wanted for months. She’d not been wrong in thinking he wanted it too. But allowing these feelings to run their natural course would only lead to disappointment.

“It isn’t.” His brows furrowed and he tightened his hold.

An approaching carriage, however, carried his guests, but also the urgency of their present circumstances.

“Miss Sparrow.” Mr. Sloan gestured toward the door behind him. “You can hide in the sacristy until they leave.”

“No,” her duke declared. “She needn’t hide.”

Eva tugged, but he persisted in holding onto her.

“Victor…” she pleaded, and then clamped her mouth shut.

This was impossible, and although she ought to regret luring him away from the castle, she couldn’t.

Because she’d lived better—loved better—in one afternoon than she had in her entire life. She would press the memory in her heart like a flower in a book.

She didn’t know exactly when she’d fallen in love with him, but there was no denying it. And now she would leave. She wasn’t a martyr. She would not remain at Glenbrook Castle while he betrothed himself to another woman. There would be a wedding. There would be children…

While all these thoughts raced through her mind, Victor continued holding her wrist, stroking his thumb over her pulse.

“I don’t want to hide you.” His eyes locked with hers. “Ever.”

There was a plea in those stormy depths. What did it mean?

The thump of a carriage door closing nearby, followed by muffled women’s conversation, signaled impending doom. Evalina’s heart raced upon hearing the duchess’s voice accompanied by two others.

Lady Lucinda and her mother.

It was too late to hide. Too late to run.

Eva stood at Victor’s side and watched as the duchess entered the chapel followed by two elegant ladies.

All three women made up the picture of elegance, and their presence immediately transformed the peaceful chapel into something else.

Was this what a soldier felt before charging the enemy on the battlefield?

The duchess, wearing a heavily pleated, tailored chocolate-brown day dress, ignored Evalina to address her son.

“Fairchild.” She spoke in a bright tone—a falsely bright tone.

“Mother.” Victor could have blamed their appearance on the rain. Or moved away from Evalina. Instead, he placed his hand on the small of Evalina’s back.

The duchess did not miss the motion and her throat moved before she folded her hands together over her middle.

Evalina had never, in the literally thousands of hours she’d spent with her employer, seen her looking disconcerted.

The woman’s glare shot between Evalina and her son, and then briefly landed on Mr. Sloan.

Evalina had worked with the duchess long enough to know that, despite appearances, she was searching for the best way to take control of this situation.

“Mister…ah, Vicar. I trust you’ve completed your business with His Grace?” The duchess did not deign it necessary to present either the imposter vicar or Evalina to the two women standing behind her.

“Indeed! We’ll be ordering new pews and a shiny new altar.” Mr. Sloan did an excellent impression of the vicar’s northern accent. “Eh, Your Grace?”

The duke met his valet’s stare with an exasperated one. “Why don’t we purchase a new bell while we’re at it?”

“Oh, that isn’t necessary, is it, darling?” The duchess’s brows furrowed.

“The bell is sounding a bit off key these days,” Evalina added, pinching her mouth together, hysterical giggles rising in her throat.

Oh, but this was bad.

Because, really, being caught alone with the duke was no grinning matter.

“The bell isn’t the only thing that is…off.” The duchess turned to face Evalina. “I understand you were to join the ladies’ guild to deliver baskets to the poor today.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The older woman narrowed her eyes. “But the guild is absent, Miss Sparrow. I was confused when Mr. Frye informed me of your obligation, seeing as Mrs. Markwell said they were planning the fundraiser for the foundling hospital today.”

Evalina blinked. Of course! How had she made such a grave miscalculation?

“I… Er…”

“Has the rain stopped?” Mr. Sloan practically flew down the aisle, placing himself between Lady Lincoln and her daughter and the imminent drama about to play out.

“It has, yes,” the younger woman answered.

“I find myself in need of some fresh air, what with praying for everyone’s sins and whatnot. Lady Lincoln, Lady Lucinda, will you allow me to show you the gardens around back? There is nothing like bluebells to bring one closer to God, wouldn’t you agree?” He miraculously managed to steer them back outside, which was a relief, but only for a moment.

The duchess would have her say now.

“Your Grace.” Evalina braced herself, knowing what was coming.

“I am not a fool.” The duchess stared right through Eva. “Indiscretions will happen. And although you’ve proven adequate as a companion, you are a smart enough young woman to know your actions are cause for termination. You’ll pack your belongings and be gone before nightfall.”

“Of course—”

“No,” Victor said.

Evalina had witnessed delicate confrontations between the two of them on several different occasions. Usually, he complied out of respect, for reasons she didn’t always understand. He’d only ever argued with his mother over important matters. Like when the duchess wanted to turn out three tenant families so she could expand her gardens, and when she’d wanted to sack two servants who’d wanted to marry.

But in most instances, to keep the peace, and so as not to cause a scene, he tolerated his mother’s requests.

And yet…

In that moment Evalina was reminded of all those times when he’d defended her to his mother, when he’d oh, so subtly reprimanded the duchess for speaking to her in harsh tones.

How he had held her gaze in shared amusement. Sometimes, she’d imagined it to be affection. He stepped forward, essentially placing himself between Evalina and his mother.

“Miss Sparrow isn’t going anywhere.”

“But Lady Lucinda—”

“Is a lovely lady, and presently, your guest. Nothing more.” Standing beside but slightly behind him, Evalina admired the set of his chin. Even disheveled, he managed to look stern and aristocratic.

His mother’s cheeks flushed an even darker shade of red. “But…” She blinked her eyes, summoning tears, a ploy Evalina had witnessed on more than one occasion. “They are your guests too, darling. We discussed this. Lady Lucinda is expecting—”

“She is a guest, Mother. Nothing more.” And then he reached behind him, pulling Evalina forward. “I’m going to marry Miss Sparrow.”