Chapter Twenty-Six
Euphoria filled Rachelwhen she heard Evan’s words. She hadn’t let herself dream of this kind of storybook ending and yet it magically unfolded as her new fiancé kissed her soundly again in front of the entireton. She laughed against his mouth, thinking what a scandal the St. Clairs were causing tonight. Luke, rogue that he was, would have to do something unique to top tonight’s gossip. Knowing her brother, he’d somehow manage to do that very thing.
Evan’s lips finally left hers and he said, “I love you, Rachel St. Clair,” so softly that only she could hear.
“I love you,” she repeated.
As he released her and she saw looks ranging from glowing approval to outrage at the way they’d flaunted convention, she caught sight of the one person who’d been hurt tonight.
Merrifield.
He gazed at her wistfully, causing her throat to tighten. Turning to Evan, she said, “I must speak to Merrifield.”
Evan nodded. “I understand.”
Rachel stiffened her spine and courageously walked toward the man she’d thought would be her husband. He watched her approach, waiting patiently.
“I’m sorry, Merrifield.”
The earl gave her a rueful smile. “I suppose it always was Merrick.”
She nodded. “I love him. I always have.” She reached and took Merrifield’s hand, surprising him. “But I thought I would wed you. You would have made me a good husband. You’re bright and witty. I think we would have laughed a great deal.”
“I would have enjoyed that. I will miss our bantering.”
“As will I. You are certainly made for entertaining sons and daughters.”
“I do love children,” he admitted and sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to reenter the fray and see who else is available on the Marriage Mart if I’m to get those children.”
“Stay away from the Three B’s,” she advised. “They’re not good enough for you.”
Rachel leaned over and kissed his cheek as she squeezed his hand and then released it.
“This may sound odd,” he began, “but I still like you, Rachel. I even like Merrick. I wonder... if someday... we might all be friends.”
She motioned Evan over. He slid an arm around her waist.
“I know you and Merrifield got along at Fairfield,” she told her new fiancé. “I also get along with him. I think the three of us should be friends.”
Evan’s brows rose and he looked to Merrifield. “Is this your idea—or hers?”
The earl shrugged. “Both, I suppose. I know Polite Society will see me as a jilted suitor. I’d rather look at my situation as having lost a possible wife while gaining two very good friends. If that’s even possible.”
“I think you mean it,” Evan said, surprise in his voice.
“I do. Maybe the two of you can help me to one day find the happiness and love that you share—with the right woman.”
Evan offered his hand and Merrifield took it. Rachel heard the gasps and glanced around, realizing that many people continued to watch their little drama unfold. She ventured that no one would have guessed how tonight would turn out, with the two men who vied for her now friendly—if not true friends.
“We’ve certainly given thetonenough to gossip about for weeks, if not the entire Season,” Merrifield said. “I am honored that you will accept my friendship, Merrick. You, too, Lady Rachel.”
She chuckled. “Well, if we’re going to be such good friends and help you find a wife, the least you can do is call us Rachel and Evan.”
Merrifield smiled broadly. “I can do that.”
“We’ll find you a bride,” she promised. “It might not be this Season but you are quite a good catch, Merrifield. Somewhere in London—or perhaps beyond—is the woman you will give your heart to.” She turned to her fiancé. “Just as I have given my heart to this wonderful man.”
“Don’t think I’ll ask you to stand up with me,” Evan said, humor laced in his tone. “That’s Alford’s job.”