Page 58 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
“Lady Evangeline,” the butler said, giving him a cursory glance. “Your… Well, you must see for yourself. Come with me.”
Her hand reached for Zachary’s, and he gripped it as he followed the butler through into the drawing room. Evangeline paused at the doorway as the butler announced them, and for the first time since his father’s death, Zachary was confronted with the Duke of Wellton.
The very much alive Duke of Wellton.
He was a tall gentleman, broad despite his age which Zachary estimated to be around his fifties. His gray hair was neatly brushed back, and he had an air of fashion that became him utterly.
Most notable, though, were his blue eyes which perfectly matched his daughter’s.
“Papa,” Evangeline gasped, one hand flying to her mouth. Lady Emily and Lady Pevton were sitting on the sofa embracing one another, their cheeks wet with tears, but Zachary could not tear his eyes away from the gentleman.
“Evangeline.” He held out his arms. “My dear.”
Evangeline stayed where she was, her eyes wide. Zachary glanced at her, sensing the shock and the hurt in her face. “Papa,” she said again. “I don’t… I thought…” Her nostrils flared and a tear streaked down her cheek. “You weredead.”
He dropped his arms. “Yes, I understand why you might have thought that.”
She didn’t move. “You left us a note.”
“I did. I let you know that I had tired of my life, and I wanted a break from it.” He frowned. “Not that I had chosen to end it.”
“But you were gone.” Evangeline stamped a foot and put one hand over her face. “You were gone, and what could be the reason for such behavior if you did not intend to—to take your own life?”
Silence followed her words. Her sister and aunt huddled together as though they had not seen her behave like this. Perhaps they hadn’t; she’d done an admirable job of concealing her grief from her family.
Zachary loved that strength even as his heart ached at the sight of her now, glaring at her father through teary eyes.
He understood her pain and the level of her betrayal. If his father had walked through the door, he might have felt something similar. Relief and fury and confusion.
The greatest difference was that he had not loved his father as she loved hers.
“Your aunt,” the Duke said, glancing back at Lady Pevton, “made it plain there was a level of miscommunication, and I’m sorry for it, my dear. It was a selfish decision made on the spur of the moment. I believed you would be fine without me for a few months, and I needed time to evaluate my priorities.”
Evangeline’s bosom heaved. “Priorities that did not include your family.”
A tired, worn smile crossed his face, and he strode to a chair. “If we are to have this conversation, I believe I need a drink.” He turned his attention to Zachary for the first time. “You are the man set to marry my daughter?”
“I am,” Zachary said. “I did not know you were still alive, or I might have—”
“Sit, boy. I’m not here to criticize your decisions when mine have reflected so poorly on the family.” The Duke stood by the mantelpiece while Zachary and Evangeline sat together. Her hand was still in his, and Zachary held on tight; if she released him, he feared she might fly at her father.
Her rage—he understood that, too.
“I fully intend to marry the Marquess regardless of your opinion on the matter,” Evangeline said, “and if you try and insist I marry another after—”
“Peace, Evangeline.” The Duke sighed as he sat and rang the bell for refreshments. “I came because I saw the announcement in the paper, but that does not mean I am angry at you. At any of you.”
Lady Emily reached across and took Evangeline’s hand. “Are you not content?” she asked. “Papa is back, and he is well.”
“He may be back,” Evangeline said, her voice tight, “but heleft.”
“If I may?” The Duke looked around the room, commanding attention in a way Zachary wished he could. There was something authoritative about the way he held himself, even when he was tired and grief-stricken. “I left because I found life without your mother to be difficult,” he said once even Evangeline had fallen silent. Zachary squeezed her hand. “I loved her very much, and I felt, selfishly, you would be better off without a father so consumed by the loss of your mother he forgot to live.”
Evangeline’s nostrils flared. “We miss her too.”
The Duke looked at her for a long while, the warmth and sadness in his eyes matching Evangeline’s. “I know,” he said eventually, “and I came to see that in time. I repented leaving in such a hurry, especially given you are both at a marriageable age. My travels across the Continent reminded me of England’s charms and the charms that come from quiet family life. I was in France, I believe, when I concluded I missed you far more than I craved a traveler’s lifestyle.
“Then, purely by chance, I possessed myself of an English newspaper and saw the announcement.” He looked at Evangeline and the way she clasped Zachary’s hand. “I confess I was surprised at such a swift match, and I did everything in my power to return at once.”
