Page 52 of Her Devil of a Duke
“Why take me out of there?”
“Pah! You think your uncle and I do not have an understanding?” He suddenly leaned forward. His superior height made her feel very small. She slunk back into the corner of the carriage, her spine slumping.
She found she unconsciously compared the two men again. Where Rafe’s greater height made her feel safe, protected, Mr. Windham’s made her feel terrified, small.
“An understanding?” she whispered in fear. He reached for her hand and bent it back, capturing her wrist and dragging her forward so that she was near him. “Ow. Mr. Windham, you are hurting me!”
“Good, then perhaps you will pay attention,” he hissed. “I am marrying you, Evelyn. And that is final.”
“Marrying me? Still?” she spluttered. She tore her wrist out of his grasp, hardly caring that his nails grazed her skin and even drew blood. She’d rather have his hand off her. “After you kissed another woman? After you despise me so much for being in another man’s house and could disparage me so? Why in God’s name would you wish to marry me still?”
“That dowry of yours.” He suddenly smiled, a wicked grin that made her stomach clench. “It’s no small amount, is it?”
“It was about that all this time? And you say thatIdisgust you?” She sneered at him, seeing Mr. Windham and his true colors for the first time. “Abhor me for being in that man’s house if you must–”
“Do not mention him. I will not hear him mentioned once we are married. Nor will you speak of this past week to anyone ever.”
“Why not?” She laughed at the idea. “It’s acceptable for you to have affairs, Mr. Windham, but apparently not for your wife?”
“Since when did you get such a loud voice?” He moved toward her again, but this time, she didn’t let her spine slump.
“It was always here. I merely chose to wait until the right time to use it.” Her voice was firm. “Wake up and see the hypocrisy of your words. Do not think ill of me for what you yourself have undoubtedly done.”
“When we are married, I will teach you to curb that sharp tongue of yours.” He sat back, looking strangely calm as he drummed his fingers on his knees. “You won’t make such noises again, and I will never, ever, find you in the company ofthatman again.”
Evelyn breathed deeply, feeling tears prick her eyes. All her anger at Rafe didn’t seem so important anymore. Yes, she was upset about his lie, but the mere thought of never seeing him again cut her open, as if her heart bled in her chest.
* * *
Evelyn didn’t know what was worse, her Uncle Peter’s judgmental glare or her Aunt Mavis’ refusal to face her at all.
Evelyn stood in the drawing room of the house with Mavis crying into a handkerchief, her hands shaking as she sat in a plush armchair. At her side was Peter, glowering at Evelyn as if she was muck beneath his feet.
“I cannot condone this,” Peter whispered, voice almost trembling. “To think that you…you,Evelyn, of all people.” He shuddered and looked away, leaning with his hands on the back of his wife’s chair. “You found her there then?” he appealed to Mr. Windham who sat calmly in a Chesterfield settee a short distance away.
“I did.” Mr. Windham seemed strangely in control of the room as he took his pipe out of his tailcoat pocket and lit it.
Evelyn shot a glare at him. It was traditional for men to smoke away from ladies, but apparently, he no longer cared for such propriety. He puffed the smoke into the air, his eyes never once looking at Evelyn again.
“It was as we all feared,” Mr. Windham said, insufferably calm. “She has been in that rake’s company for far too long. If anyone discovers it, her reputation, her name,yourwhole family’s name…” He paused for dramatic effect, looking to the skies, “It will be scandalized.”
Evelyn balled her hands into fists at her side, tempted to walk across the room and slap him. He was trying to manipulate her family against her and into accepting their match now. She would be rushed into a quick marriage, to ensure no one heard of her misdemeanors. While he would get away unscathed, with his reputation still intact.
“No one need ever know where I was,” Evelyn murmured, finding her voice finally as she looked at her aunt and uncle. “The family name is safe.”
“Safe? Safe!? Do not act even more the foolish child than you already have been!” her uncle’s voice boomed. She tried not to flinch at the sound, but her body acted involuntarily, jumping as his voice thundered off the ceiling. “The servants of that house know you were there in Sussex. There will be whispers, there probably already are.”
“Oh, this is too awful!” Mavis suddenly wailed into her handkerchief. “How could you do this to us, Evelyn? After all I have ever done for you? Raised you as my own, loved you.” She placed a hand over her heart.
“As your own?” Evelyn asked with derision, arching a single brow. “I was always the niece you didn’t want under your roof, Aunt. If we are to be open and honest about everything at this moment, then let us not begin by telling lies.”
Her words made Mavis squeal louder. She flung herself back into her chair, covering her face with her handkerchief as Peter reached down and took her shoulder.
“Ungrateful child,” he snapped in Evelyn’s direction. “You are fortunate Mr. Windham came to retrieve you at all. By the end of the week, the Duke of Ravensworth would have had enough of you. He would have deposited you somewhere far from London, a mere harlot in a coastal town probably, raising a bastard child–”
“Oh, Peter,” Mavis cried harder again.
Evelyn looked away, out of the window. Snow was falling lightly once more. Evelyn knew she would have done anything to be away from this conversation, even stride out in that snow. The mere thought of walking through the snow made her think of the day that Rafe had been so reluctant to walk in the snow himself.
