Page 50 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
Well, now was the moment, no matter how he felt about it.
He rose to his feet and tapped a teaspoon against his glass. The conversation fell silent.
“It warms my heart to see you all here,” he said. Evangeline smiled encouragingly up at him. “Especially considering the events of earlier today which I would like to sincerely apologize for.” He nodded to Percy. “You are my friend, and I should not have treated you as I did, no matter the provocation. I’m sorry.”
Percy’s smile widened. “Should I get that in writing?”
Zachary tried to glare, but deep down, he was relieved his friend wasn’t angry. He ought to have been—no one should forgive their friend throwing them in the lake—but Zachary would not argue against the acceptance. He had few friends and hoped to keep those he had.
“You were no doubt shocked at my behavior,” Zachary said, turning to the others. Mr. Trimly swallowed nervously, his throat bobbing, and Zachary did his best to relax his expression. Thetondid not need more to gossip about. “And with good reason. But I would like to assure you that I will not behave in such a way again.”
His mother looked at him approvingly.Not when you are Duke, she seemed to say.
He sat, and after a moment of silence, conversation started up again. But Percy leaned in closer, lowering his voice.
“You ought to have told me you harbored feelings for her,” he said, nodding to Evangeline, who was laughing at something her sister had said. “I would not have interfered had I known.”
Zachary frowned at his plate. “I had not thought there was a chance she might feel something for me in return.”
“She is no fool, and I think you will be good together.”
“You are not angry with me?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“If you are referring to the pond incident, then yes, I am somewhat annoyed. My valet will be more so when he sees the state of my waistcoat.” Percy glanced up at him, and there was something unexpectedly soft on his friend’s face. “But you should know I never intend to stand in your way, nor in the way of your happiness. If marrying Lady Evangeline will make you happy, I should not wish to be the one to prevent that.”
Perhaps this was how it felt to be blessed with unconditional love. Aside from his mother, who had been distant since even before his father’s death, he’d never known what that was like.
Love.
He had craved it for such a long time without ever knowing how it felt.
“Thank you,” Zachary said, unsure whether that was the right sentiment to express or whether he should be saying something else. Condolences, perhaps, over his failed proposal. Zachary had, after all, effectively stolen his bride-to-be.
“Do me a favor and make the most of her,” Percy said, leaning back. “And don’t worry about me—I suspect I can find a bride elsewhere if necessary.”
“Not Lady Emily,” Zachary said hastily although he hoped his imminent marriage to Evangeline might solve the issue of the girls feeling obliged to accept gentlemen they didn’t care for. “Her affections are already engaged.”
Percy followed his gaze to where Emily gazed adoringly into the face of Mr. Trimly. “So I can see,” he said dryly. “Fear not, my friend. My days of trifling with this family are over. I shall set my sights elsewhere.”
Zachary allowed his gaze to return to Evangeline, who sent a glimmering smile back at him. For the first time since he had returned to England, his path forward seemed clear. There was a chance, after all, that he could be happy.
ChapterTwenty
It was late before they were able to retire. Lady Pevton offered to have a bed made up for Lord Riffy and Mr. Trimly, who gratefully accepted, and Evangeline went to bed near midnight. Emily followed soon after.
The moment she had truly been dreading had come.
Evangeline had been delaying it. There was so much to say—any more to conceal. She could not ever reveal the true nature of her relationship with the Marquess. Yet how could she explain her change of heart without referencing the way he lit her up like a flame?
Evangeline undressed quickly and slipped into bed. It wasn’t long before her bedroom door opened, and Emily slipped in, closing it behind her. She hurried in, blonde hair loose across her shoulders and her shawl clutched to her chest.
“How long have you loved him?” she asked without preamble.
Evangeline choked, turning the reaction into a cough, and hit her chest. “Good evening to you too,” she said. “Would you like to take a seat?”
“I’m not angry,” Emily said, raising her gaze to Evangeline’s. “Truly I’m not. I had long hoped you might make a match of it—I thought him to be in love with you soon after he arrived, but you seemed so determined to ignore him and flirt with the Earl.”
Evangeline smiled ruefully. “I suppose I have been particularly stubborn.”
