Page 33

T hat evening, Evelyn lay in bed and stared up at her canopy. She hadn’t spoken to Nathaniel yet. She had planned to—just as she’d promised—but he hadn’t been home when she arrived.

He had gone out again. To the club. Just as he had nearly every night.

What was it about that club that drew him so much? A woman? She groaned and shook her head. No, surely not. And why should she care? Their marriage wasn’t real. It was just on paper. Something that could be crumpled up and tossed into the fire at a moment’s notice. It meant nothing.

Yet, as she tossed back and forth, her stomach churned as if she’d eaten too much marzipan. It did not matter. What had happened between them mattered. They had almost kissed—more than once. It was clear there was something more between them. So why was he acting this way?

She turned to her other side, eyes fixed on the curtains. Her lips were pressed together, her thoughts spinning. Why was Nathaniel acting so strangely?

And why did it bother her so much?

From outside the window, she heard the clatter of a carriage arriving. Instantly, she sat up ramrod straight and swung her legs out of bed, like a soldier ready to march on Napoleon herself—in nothing but her nightgown.

She dashed to the window, pushed back the curtains, and saw him tumbling out of the carriage. His hair was askew, but he walked as though still in complete control of his faculties.

She grabbed the candle from her nightstand, its flame barely clinging to life. The clock in the corner showed it was one o’clock in the morning.

Before she had even made up her mind what to do, she was already in the hallway, her bare feet pattering across the floor.

What was the word for this? Dutiful? Determined? Marching down the hall in her nightgown, hair loose, footsteps soft but unrelenting? Perhaps not proper, but she decided this was one of the few advantages that came with being a duchess. In her own home, she would do as she pleased.

If she wanted to, she could perform a handstand and walk on her hands, and the servants could say nothing to Nathaniel.

What was she even thinking? Where were these thoughts coming from? She was sleep-deprived, she realized. Perhaps this was not the best time to confront him.

Then again, who knew when she’d see him again? He had practically turned into a night owl.

She was at the staircase now, descending as the thick red carpet swallowed the sound of her steps.

A fire had just been lit in the parlor, and a footman emerged. He stopped short when he saw her, his eyes widening, shoulders stiffening as if he’d seen a ghost. He bowed instantly.

“Your Grace.”

“As you were,” she said, walking past like some kind of military general. She noticed her arms were swinging as though she were marching. Well, wasn’t she walking into battle?

“Nathaniel!” she called as she entered the room.

He looked up, his eyes slightly red.

“Evelyn,” he said. “What are you doing here? Can’t sleep?”

“No,” she replied. “I would ask the same of you, but I see you’ve just returned home.”

He scoffed and sauntered to the sideboard, pouring himself a glass of sherry. Without asking, he poured another and handed it to her.

“Did you write to my mother? Did she tell you to ensure I’m tucked into bed at a proper hour?”

“No,” she said coolly, “but I do wonder what she might say if she knew how you’ve spent your first year as Duke—hiding in this house all day and stumbling off to your club every night to do… who knows what.”

“If you wish to know what I do at the club, you can ask me,” he said. He glanced her up and down, as though only just noticing her nightgown.

“I have no interest in what you do at the club,” she said—even though she was burning to know.

“Very well,” he replied. “So, how goes your venture with the dower house?”

“Well enough,” she said. “We are planning to raise funds to feed the climbing boys. But I had hoped to do more to improve their conditions.” She was relieved they had moved on to this, the actual reason she’d come downstairs.

“A worthy venture.”

“Indeed, they say it is. I had hoped you might be willing to donate. So we could advertise that the Duke of Sinclair supports our cause.”

He shrugged. “Of course. Speak to Stuart. Tell him how much you need—any amount will do.”

She pursed her lips and tapped her thumb against her index finger. Could she hope for more? Push for more? If he wouldn’t be a true husband—if he wouldn’t even be her friend—perhaps she could at least make him a benefactor.

“Would you consider helping the children through the House of Lords?”

He looked up. “The House of Lords? And pray, how would I do that?”

“A bill. Mandating how they should be treated. We cannot have children with burns or stuck up in chimneys and left there to die. It isn’t?—”

“It isn’t right,” he agreed. “But I will not be the one to bring about change.”

“Why not? You are a duke. You are a member of the House of Lords. You can speak, you can make?—”

He rounded on her. “If you know how to pass bills and build alliances, why don’t you go to the House of Lords and do all these wonderful things?”

Her eyes went wide. Her hands curled into fists. “You know very well I cannot. I am a woman.”

“That is right. You are. Perhaps you should remember where a woman?—”

Her jaw dropped. He had not just said that. Where her place is?

“Who are you?” she asked. “Do you hear yourself? ‘A woman’s place’?

I’ll tell you where a woman’s place is not —in a fencing outfit, sparring with a man who thoroughly enjoyed it.

And yet you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you enjoyed it.

I see you watching me when I practice in the gardens.

A woman’s place is not wherever you think it ought to be when I’m outside fencing. ”

He raised his hands. “I beg your pardon. I did not mean it. You know me. You know that’s not who I am?—”

“Do I?” she said, voice sharp. “Because it seems I don’t know you at all, Nathaniel. I thought I did. But you… You’ve changed. You’re not the man you used to be.”

He looked down and dragged a hand across his face.

“Why do you always do this?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Do what?” he fired back.

“Walk away. Push me away.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully.

She hadn’t meant to say this—at least not now—but eventually, she would have to.

They were married, after all, bound together whether they liked it or not.

“I know that I matter to you. I know I was more than a distraction. I saw it in your eyes. I felt it in your breath the night we almost kissed. That’s what brought us here. That’s why we’re married.”

“I already told you?—”

“Do you really mean to say it meant nothing?” she interrupted. “That it was all in my head?”

“Was what in your head?” he asked, avoiding her gaze.

“That there was something between us. That I wasn’t just a burden. An obligation you didn’t want and were trying to dispatch as quickly as possible.”

“No, Evelyn. But what does it matter now?” he said, gesturing broadly. “You have everything you wanted. Your pre-marriage freedom. Your precious dower house. Access to your funds. What more could you want?”

“That isn’t everything I ever wanted,” she said quietly. “Yes, I wanted to be free of the obligations my father forced on me. But not like this. Not to live beside you while we ignore each other. Not to pretend that… that nothing ever existed between us.”

“Was there?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I thought there was,” she said, crossing her arms.

“If you believe there was, I won’t take that belief from you. But if you think there wasn’t… I cannot change that either.”

“So I was mistaken?” she asked. “I threw away my chance at something real for a moment that wasn’t real at all?

What was it then? Why were you looking at me that way?

Why did you come so close, as if you were going to kiss me?

You were so close I could smell the peppermint comforts you’d been sucking on. ”

“I doubt that.”

“Peppermint,” she repeated flatly.

He pressed his lips together. “Lucky guess.”

“No. You suck peppermint comforts when you’re nervous or upset.”

“I didn’t know you knew me that well.”

“I thought I did,” she said. “I thought I’d come to understand you. But you vex me.”

“I vex you?” he asked, arching a brow. “How?—”

“You know how,” she snapped. “You’ve done it since the day we met. Starting construction outside my bedchamber so I couldn’t read, trying to chase me out of the house. Setting me up with those horrid suitors?—”

“That was all for your own good. If you hadn’t been living here, there wouldn’t have been a scandal, and we wouldn’t be married.”

“So I was just an obligation,” she said. “Tell me, once and for all, that’s all it was. That you’re pushing me away because you can’t stand me. Because you think I ruined your life.”

His eyes widened, and he threw up his hands.

“ I ruined your life! Halston was right—I was never meant to be Duke. I was the unwanted spare. My uncle tried desperately to have a legitimate heir, and until he failed, I was nothing but dirt beneath his boots. I was never meant for this life. Not to be a duke. Not to be a husband.”

“You can’t believe that,” she said, stunned.

“I do. That’s why I haven’t lifted a finger for your climbing boys—because I don’t know how. I have no influence, no legacy?—”

“That isn’t true,” she cut in. “Nathaniel, you told me you had influence. You’re one of the richest men in the country now.

Power comes with that title. That’s why I’ve been doing this work.

Because I believed in it—and in you. You already have a friend who is a lord.

You could do something. But you haven’t even tried.

You’re not the same man you were. What changed? ”

She paused. But they both knew the answer.

“Halston,” she said quietly.

“Yes,” Nathaniel said, voice low. “He reminded me of who I used to be. When I was a boy, I was proud. I had plans—big, foolish plans. I wanted to ensure that no widow feared for her survival. That no child went hungry during a poor harvest. I made speeches in school about it. I truly believed I’d change something. ”

“And then?”

“Then I stopped being heir. I became no one—just a dead nobleman’s son with no claim. My stepfather wasn’t even aristocracy. I was a fraud. And now, somehow, I’ve become a fraud with a title. And Halston reminded me just how foolish I was to believe I could be anything more.”

“And me?” she asked. “What did I do?”

“Nothing,” he said. “It wasn’t you—it was the circumstances. First, I couldn’t throw you out, like any other man in my position would have. Then I tried to find you a husband—and failed. Then I tried to convince myself not to care, not to feel… because I—” He waved a hand.

“Because you wanted me?” she asked, stepping closer.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” she insisted. “Why do you let men like Halston define you? You’re wealthy. You’re powerful. You could do anything—be anything.”

“I let you down,” he said quietly. “I made you a promise, and I broke it. I ruined your future. Your chance to be with someone who truly admires you.”

“I thought there was someone who truly admired me,” she whispered. “But then he changed.”

“Evelyn—”

“I’ll ask again. Was I wrong? Was there really never anything between us?”

“Of course there was,” he said, voice raw. “But I didn’t know if you cared for me, or if you just wanted a way out. A title. Security.”

“I cared for you,” she said. “I still do. Not this version of you—the one Halston’s brought out—but the man you were before. The man who made me believe I could belong somewhere.”

He smiled faintly. “I don’t much like this version of me either.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And what of the ladies at the club?”

He let out a breath, exasperated. “There are ladies at the club. But I don’t trifle with them. Not anymore. I used to. I haven’t in some time.”

Her eyes widened. “The other day, you came home looking disheveled?—”

He waved a hand. “A foolish brawl with another gentleman. Nothing more.”

“Then why did you let me think otherwise?” she asked, clicking her tongue. “You are?—”

“Impossible,” he finished, shaking his head. But she was smiling now, and so was he. She took a step toward him.

“So… there was no other woman?”

“No. Only the one right in front of me.”

“I thought so,” she said, softer now. “But I wasn’t sure. Not after what you said about Halston. That he only wanted me because he couldn’t have me.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he said. “I was a fool. A complete fool.”

She took his hand, feeling its warmth. “Yes, you were. But perhaps… I could forgive that. Perhaps you could be my fool.”

He smiled, raising his hand to her cheek. She leaned into it, and he brushed his thumb softly across her skin.

“I would love nothing more,” he said. “Maybe next time we could avoid all this? Skip the arguments?”

She looked up at him, amused. “As you know, I’m never averse to talking. In fact, some say I cannot stop…”

Her words were cut short as he leaned in and kissed her. She froze at first, eyes wide in surprise—but then melted into it. His lips were soft and warm, full of longing, of need. Her arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer.

And at last—finally—she let herself fall completely into his arms, into the sweetness of the kiss she’d been waiting for far too long.