Page 48 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
ChapterNineteen
Before she could settle and celebrate her engagement to Zachary, Evangeline had two unpleasant tasks. The first was explaining to the Earl of Riffy that she would not be marrying him—although she felt there could be little confusion on this point. The second was explaining to her aunt that Zachary was not what she had thought. He was not a monster. He was not cruel.
He loved her.
And she loved him.
She found the Earl of Riffy in the drawing room, standing alone and no doubt awaiting her. His clothes were still damp from the lake, and a lock of blond hair fell over his forehead as he turned to her.
“I see my friend rather pipped me to the post,” he said with a wry smile. “I had not thought your affections already engaged, or I would not have placed you in the unfortunate position of having to refuse me.”
Already, this was going better than she could have imagined. Evangeline abandoned the speech she had spent her walk to the house curating. “Are you not angry with me?” she asked. “Or perhaps, more so the Marquess?”
“I’ve known the Marquess a long time,” he assured her. “That he loves you surprises me, but his behavior does not.”
“It was poorly handled.”
“I shall not be the first to disagree with you.”
Evangeline looked the Earl over once more. He was taking the news remarkably well, all things considered; just an hour ago, he had been flirting determinedly with her.
She was right when she’d thought he did not care for her in that way. But although the thought was a relieving one, given the circumstances, it rankled a little. If he had been so uninterested in her, he ought not to have flirted as he did.
She extended a hand to him. “Can we at least still be friends? I should hate to lose your friendship over this misunderstanding.”
His smile, as he looked at her, was both frank and understanding. “We all do the strangest things for love, do we not?”
“We do,” she said self-consciously, thinking about everything she had done with Zachary for love—although she had not known it was love then.
In truth, she had only known it was love when he had told her although she had yet to say those fateful words back. Soon, she promised herself. As soon as the unpleasantness was resolved, she would tell him how she really felt, and how she had felt for a very long time.
The Earl kissed her knuckles. “I should have done my utmost to make you happy,” he said, releasing her, “but perhaps fate has a way of handling these things, after all.”
“You must stay for dinner,” Evangeline said, “and allow someone to find you a change of clothes.”
“You are all kindness.”
“I am not,” she said honestly, “but then, perhaps, neither are you.”
He gave her a queer smile. “Perhaps not. Dinner should be lovely, Lady Evangeline. If I may now change?”
She summoned a footman to lead him away in the hopes that her father’s clothes should fit; Zachary’s most certainly would not.
And now for the conversation she was truly dreading.
She found her aunt upstairs in her dressing room, powdering her cheeks with a distracted air and snapping at her unfortunate maid. When Evangeline entered, Dorothea turned with such vehemence that Evangeline was half tempted to leave again.
“That will be all,” Evangeline said to the maid and stood beside her aunt, hands folding behind her back. Although she was a woman and capable of making her own decisions, she felt as though she were an errant child standing before her mother.
“So,” Dorothea began, looking at Evangeline with an expression of mingled fear and horror, “did you accept him?”
“I did.”
Dorothea gave a cry and pressed her smelling salts to her nose. Evangeline remained still and waited for the fit to pass; there was no point in attempting to reason with her aunt when she was seconds from falling into hysterics.
“You must understand,” Evangeline said as soon as Dorothea replaced the bottle, “he is not what you think him to be.”
“Do not think I am blind,” Dorothea snapped. “He is a cruel man with a cruel temper. He threw his own friend into the lake.”
