Page 49 of The Wrong Duke

“I know what you meant,” he chuckled. “And thank you. Although I think I preferred beautiful.”

She pretended to roll her eyes at his comment but couldn’t keep herself from smiling. They had a natural repour, one that three days apart couldn’t stifle. And even now, mere seconds in, it was igniting again in ways that were wholly familiar.

Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly the music began, and Evan was quick to lead her. There were a dozen couples on the floor, positioned in a circle, moving clockwise as they waltzed in perfect synchronicity to the music and the other couple’s rhythm. Evan couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time he and Amelia had danced together, how long ago that felt, how different things were now. A shame then that this dance would likely end under similar circumstances.

“You were surprised to see me tonight,” Evan said with wry smile.

“Maybe a little,” Miss Baker admitted, matching his smile. “I thought I told you that we shouldn’t see one another again.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Evan grimaced. “I didn’t know if I should come.”

“I’m glad that you did,” she said quickly, her wry smile turning sincere. “Truly. Despite what I may have said, a small part of me was hoping to see you tonight. And here you are.”

This was going to be harder than he thought. It might have been nice if he had asked for a dance, and she had denied him. Or if she had accepted, only to use this moment to chastise him for daring to speak with her. If there was a chance that she hated him, as she ought, then maybe Evan wouldn’t have had to go through with this. Easier to live with himself knowing she loathed him. At least that way, it was only his own wretched emotions he’d have to deal with.

“We need to talk,” Evan started simply as he guided her across the floor. The music was loud, but he could barely hear it, so focused on what he had to say that they might have been the only two in the entire hall. “The way that we left things in the cabin, it has haunted me.”

“Me too,” she said softly, her words filled with hope. “And I didn’t mean it. What I said, it was just —”

“Please,” Evan spoke over her. “Miss Baker, if I can just...” He sucked through his teeth. “Before you say anything else, I have to get this out. I have to make you understand.”

Her brow creased. “All right.”

“Everything that has happened between us, I need you to know that I take full responsibility. From the moment we met, it was I who attacked and forced myself on you. I was the one who hounded you and refused to leave you be. If it wasn’t for the way I acted, none of this would have happened.”

“I think I can take some of the blame,” she chuckled. “You were, after all, only trying to help your friend.”

“Which I had no right to do.” Evan swallowed. “I see that now. I thought I was helping him — that he needed my help. But Lord Malnor is an adult, and what you were trying to do... it was perfectly acceptable. You told me once that it was a normal thing for a marriage to be agreed upon between a lord and lady without any chance of love. That in our world, that is how it usually is. I dismissed it because I was suspect of you, but now, I see that you were right. I might not like your father, but he has every right to try and... and convince Lord Malnor that you would make a splendid wife. Which, by the way, I think you would.”

“All right...” Miss Baker said carefully, sensing that this conversation wasn’t going the way she might have hoped.

“The simple fact is, none of this would have happened if not for the way I behaved. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Miss Baker said. “I don’t regret it for a —”

“But you should.” The music picked up, those around them started dancing faster, and Evan was quick to match their pace as he continued to lead Miss Baker. “I had no right to put you in that position. None. And now, because of what I have done...” He gave his head a shake, hoping she would see the regret. “I fear I may have misled you.”

She leaned back. “Misled me? How have you done so?”

“I told you of my father,” Evan said softly, voice cracking because he hated speaking about this. “How my stepmother pretended to love him so that he might marry her. How once they were wed, she bled him dry, knowing that he was too love blind to see what she was doing to him. And it was obvious too, or I thought it was. She used his fortune to fund her own projects, siphoning the money out of his accounts, setting herself up for the moment she would leave him. Which she did do.”

“It’s abhorrent,” Amelia agreed, not entirely sure where this was going.

“And my younger brother...” He sniffed. “I told you of him.”

“That he lost his life,” she finished for Evan. “You said he was attacked when he tried to retrieve the fortune.”

“Knowingly attacked. I blame myself for it...” Evan’s heart cracked as he was forced to recount one of the most painful experiences in his life. “My brother suspected what our stepmother was doing, but I refused to believe it. I’d seen her and my father together, I had witnessed how much they loved one another. But my brother... he was wiser than me, even though he was younger. He saw through it, realizing what my step-mother was doing. He tried to tell our father, but our father refused to accept the possibility. Again, he was so stricken with love he could not see the truth, even thought it was right in front of him. So, fed up, my brother investigated the situation himself, thinking that he might be able to bring proof to my father and then finally my father would be forced to admit it. Our stepmother found out what he was doing and rather than trying to convince him otherwise, she hired a group of thugs to kill him.”

Miss Baker gasped. “I had no idea.”

Evan nodded. “Few do. Even my father, after everything that happened, refused to believe what my stepmother did. And because of that, he died alone, clinging to the last vestibules of hope that she might one day come back to him. So in love was he, so convinced by it, that he refused to give it up, and it killed him.”

Miss Baker looked up at Evan, into his eyes as she studied him. There was concern there, he knew. A real sense of care and worry over the pain that this story was causing him. But there was also fear and knowing as she tried to reckon why he was telling her this and what it might mean.

“I don’t want you to turn into my father,” Evan said.

“Wh — what?” she balked, nearly tripping over her dress.

---