Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set (4 books in 1) (17 page)

Radford made his way upstairs, taking care to miss the third step that creaked. At this late hour, he didn’t want to wake William or the doctor, and especially not Evelyn, whom he’d purposely kept away from all evening. His arms itched to hold her, but after seeing Kyle’s face when Rebecca asked Evelyn to be her mother, Radford knew he’d be encouraging a disaster.

He crossed through his room and entered the nursery, but was stopped by a vision so lovely it took his breath away.

October moonlight slanted through the nursery window and fell like gold dust upon Evelyn and Rebecca, who were sleeping in the rocking chair. Evelyn’s cheek rested lightly upon Rebecca’s curls, her arms circling the small bundle in her lap. Rebecca’s ankles peeked from beneath her yellow blanket, her bare feet a miniature work of art against the slender length of Evelyn’s silk-covered thighs.

Evelyn’s hair draped her shoulders and the side of the chair in long, ebony waves. Her legs were bare to the knees and her gentle hands rested upon Rebecca’s back.

Her dark lashes contrasted with the ivory of Evelyn’s cheekbones. Radford moved closer, wishing he could see the emeralds they concealed, but he didn’t wake her. He knelt beside the chair and gathered her hair in his palms. He rubbed the luxuriant strands between his fingers, reveling in the midnight satin. He loved her hair. He loved her callused hands. He loved... her.

He lifted his face and looked at the woman he had unwittingly fallen in love with. How could he not love her? Evelyn had drawn him from the darkness of his lonely world. She’d become his sun. For him, it was the first time in years that tomorrow seemed like a promise.

He touched her cheek and her eyes fluttered open. They were sultry with sleep and confusion as she sat forward.

“What’s wrong?”

He placed a finger across her lips. “I need to ask you something. Why are you marrying my brother? I’ve never heard you say you love him.”

“We need each other.”

I need you more, he thought, and so does my little girl. “What about love, Evelyn?”

Sadness filled her eyes and she looked away. “Let it go, Radford.”

Searching her face, he waited for her to explain, to make him understand how she could marry his brother when her eyes said she didn’t love him. But she was silent, the anguish in her expression matching the pain in his chest when he finally understood that she was going to go through with her wedding plans.

Resolutely, he lifted his daughter from her lap, intentionally filling his arms to keep them from reaching for Evelyn. He stepped away from her. “I’ll put her in bed. Goodnight.”

She stood up, but hesitated as if she wanted to say something.

“Go, Evelyn. Please,” he said, turning away from the need in her eyes.

* * *

At five-thirty in the morning, Evelyn poured coffee for herself and the doctor. “How ill is my father?” she asked. 

A flicker of discomfort crossed the doctor’s face as he looked into his coffee cup. “If he rests and doesn’t have another attack of apoplexy, he’ll be fine.”

“Is that the truth?”

The doctor glanced up. “Yes, but he needs his rest.” Evelyn nodded and the doctor laid his elbow on the table. “How often does Radford have nightmares?”

The bluntness of the doctor’s statement surprised Evelyn. She knew Radford’s belt of anguish last night had been loud enough to wake everyone from a sound sleep, but she assumed no one would speak of it. She had desperately wanted to go to Radford last night, but after their brief meeting in the nursery, she knew she would cave in the minute she touched him.

She met the doctor’s concerned gaze and thought maybe she’d finally found someone who could help Radford. Leaning against the sink, she cradled her cup in her palms. “Radford has nightmares quite often. Do you know of anything that can help him?”

“It depends on whether he wants help or not.”

“He doesn’t,” she answered without hesitation. Radford kept his past shut up like a condemned house.

“Then he may be in for some problems.”

“Like what?” Evelyn asked, a sense of dread filling her.

“Well, other than his nightmares, he could experience anything from unexpected acts of violence to complete insanity.”

Evelyn gasped. “Are you saying it will happen?”

“Not at all.” The doctor smiled like a patient grandfather. “Under the right circumstances, though, any one of us could be pushed beyond our limits. I’ve seen perfectly sane men lose their sanity over an event that seems insignificant until I discover the horrifying events preceding it. People who have suffered traumas seem to be more susceptible.” The doctor drained his cup and set it aside. “Has Radford acted out of character since coming home?”

Evelyn’s first thought was of the day Radford shoved Kyle away from Rebecca in the garden. He had overreacted to his own fear, but the feral look in his eyes and the animal snarl that had come from his throat were not normal. She’d had her own experience in Radford’s bedroom, but she would never reveal that. “He is as sane as I am.”

The doctor studied her, his white brows perplexed. “You’ve had conversations about his nightmares, though?”

More than that, Evelyn thought, but she merely nodded.

“Then maybe he’ll talk with you when he feels safe.”

“Shouldn’t he be talking with his brothers, or his mother?”

The doctor shrugged. “Maybe Radford can’t bare his soul to his family.” He looked at Evelyn. “I think he needs a friend to talk to. You are friends, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, but in her heart, they were much more than that.

“Then he’ll open up when he feels safe, when he believes he can trust you with the truth.”

“Is that the only way to keep him from leaving?”

The doctor wrinkled his forehead. “Hard to say. I think Radford needs to ease his conscience before he can settle down. In my opinion, he won’t find peace until he spits out what’s eating at him.”

Evelyn’s hope flagged. Radford would never talk about something he was trying so hard to bury. “I’m sorry to sound so doubtful, Doctor, but I know Radford. No matter what I say to him, it won’t convince him to tell me about his past.”

“Don’t be so certain. My wife found a way to reach me.” At Evelyn’s look of surprise, the doctor smiled. “It was her love and understanding that encouraged me to talk. I carried grief and shame so deep that I couldn’t stand to look in the mirror.  She held me many times while I wept the poison from my soul, and she mended my battered heart with love, time and time again.”

“Radford doesn’t have a wife, Dr. Kendall.”

“Then he should find one.”

On the last Saturday of October, Evelyn experienced an excruciating attack of nerves while getting ready to attend the neighbor’s wedding. In exactly one week, she would be speaking her own vows with Kyle. She would be promising to love, honor, and obey her husband. She would be consigning herself to a lifetime of friendship rather than love.

“Are you finished yet?” Rebecca asked, squirming on the bench at Evelyn’s dressing table.

“Yes, but I have a present for you.” Evelyn dangled an emerald silk ribbon in front of Rebecca. It was the silk ribbon her mother had given her the day before she died, but Evelyn wanted Rebecca to have it.

Rebecca’s eyes widened and she raised the ribbon to her mouth, rubbing the satin across her lips. Rather than the joy Evelyn expected to feel by giving something so sentimental, she felt a deep sadness for Rebecca. How could this child’s mother have given her up? The idea that any woman could abandon her own daughter was simply beyond Evelyn’s comprehension.

While she tied the ribbon in Rebecca’s hair, her heart strained toward the little girl who sat, ankles out, on a ratty old dressing stool with her tattered yellow blanket resting in her lap.

“There you go,” Evelyn said, swallowing the lump in her throat as Rebecca climbed off the bench.

Rebecca grinned as she admired herself in the looking glass, patting her curls with tiny palms and twirling in a circle to fluff her new dress. “I want to show Grandpa how pretty I am!” she said then wheeled from the room and barreled downstairs. 

Evelyn sat on her bed and pressed her fingers to her eyes to stop the sting behind her lids. How was she going to live without the daily presence of that little girl? How was she going to bear seeing Radford and Rebecca turn to another woman?

More importantly, how was she going to live with her conscience if she married Kyle knowing she could never give him the love he deserved? Despite the promises they’d given each other, it was wrong to mislead Kyle about her feelings. Somehow she would tell him the truth tonight. Though she and her father could use the security Kyle would provide, they would all ultimately suffer if Evelyn took her vows with Kyle. He’d be furious at her for breaking their engagement at the last minute, but she knew Kyle’s anger would stem from a deep sense of hurt that she had broken a promise he’d invested his heart in. Still, it would be kinder than letting him find out five years from now that she couldn’t love him. Maybe someday he’d forgive her. If not, at least Evelyn’s honesty would allow her to reclaim the integrity she’d lost the night she gave her heart to Radford.

Radford hadn’t spoken privately to her since the night in the nursery, and despite the ache in her heart, Evelyn respected his decision to honor his brother. She’d never wanted to come between him and Kyle. She’d never meant to make a promise to one and fall in love with the other.

With resolve, she drew herself up and turned toward the wardrobe. Kyle would be arriving soon to take her to the wedding and she wouldn’t keep him waiting.

She took out the green silk dress that her father had purchased for her three years ago. The fabric slipped luxuriously beneath her rough fingers, but when Evelyn saw her plain face reflected in the mirror above the shimmering beauty of the gown, she understood why she’d never worn it. She would look ridiculous in anything fancier than britches and work boots. Taking a last, hopeful look at her dismal wardrobe, Evelyn realized nothing else would do for this occasion.

Resolutely, she opened the drawer and removed a package wrapped in tissue that her father had given her with the dress. She shrugged off her wrapper then withdrew the beautiful undergarments. Slipping the chemise over her bare skin, she marveled at the heavenly texture of it against her ribs. The nainsook corset was decorated with Valenciennes lace and a green interwoven ribbon that tied up the front. The matching tie-top drawers were also nainsook and trimmed with a three-inch embroidered ruffle that rested prettily above her knees. Gathering her nerve, she stepped into the gown and attempted the column of tiny pearl buttons, but her nervous fingers kept slipping. She was used to handling shovels and harnesses, not buttons the size of nail heads.

She smoothed the dress across her hips and cringed when it snagged on her rough hands. Slowly, she turned in a circle and raised her eyes to the dressing table mirror. The silky richness swirled outward then settled around her ankles like a limpid green pool. The afternoon light reflected in warm waves along the material and upward to the tailored bodice where her hair lay like a black sash across the rich fabric. Her hair... her awful hair.

Trancelike, she drew her hand over her thick braid. She loosened the crisscrossed skeins and finger-combed it into tumbled disarray. One look at her disheveled reflection reminded Evelyn she was a woman who didn’t know the first thing about dancing and flirting. Her skin had grown used to woolen shirts and rough denim britches and her feet were accustomed to the height of boot heels, not pretty sandals.

Turning, she eyed the pair of matching green kid sandals with hand-turned soles and fancy ribbon laces that lay on the bed. Bought to match the dress, they beckoned until Evelyn perched on the mattress beside them. With unsure fingers she drew on her hose, careful not to snag them then slowly slipped her feet into the shoes and tied them closed with the silk ribbon. The feeling of the sleek, cool interior sent shivers up her neck.

She stood and wiggled her toes then took a couple of steps. Her hips became fluid, swaying of their own volition. Her legs felt longer, sleeker. The narrowness of the shoes offered less solidity than her boots and shortened her stride. The bows crossing her arched feet looked so feminine that Evelyn covered her mouth. She couldn’t possibly wear anything so rich—so feminine. She’d look ridiculous.

It was all she had, she reminded herself, privately coveting the sleek material snugging her skin. Her back became straighter, her chin a bit higher, her hips swaying gracefully as she walked. Disconcerted, she tightened her buttocks and stiffened her legs. Four more steps and still the sway.

Ignoring her inner doubts, she brushed out her hair while her curling tongs were heating on her lamp. She had no idea how long to heat the iron and her first attempt singed her hair. After they cooled some, she tried again and managed a tight curl. It took several minutes to curl her thick hair and keep the tongs heated, but when she finished and looked in the mirror at what she’d accomplished, her hands flew to her mouth in horror. “Oh no,” she whispered to her wild reflection.

 Her hair flew in umpteen different directions and spiraled around her like a bushel of wood shavings. In a state of panic, she brushed through the unruly mass until she could gather it on top of her head and secure it with a tightly tied ribbon. Despairing that it could ever be contained with pins, she wrapped, tucked, twisted, and pinned, until finally the thick mass was resting on top of her head—and tumbling down the back of her neck—and spiraling around her pink-stained cheeks.

It was not the artfully coiffed hairstyle that Nancy had shown her how to arrange, but it would have to do. Kyle would be arriving any moment. She clipped on her mother’s pearl earrings and took one last look in the mirror. It felt divine to be wrapped in silk so shimmering and alive it seemed to breathe. Her reflection lifted her heart, her feminine cascade of curls appealing to her woman’s ego. But reality weighed her hopes, taunting her for wistful thoughts, reminding her that she was plain Evelyn Tucker who knew more about the workings of a livery than that of a woman.

Defiantly, she fastened the matching pearl necklace around her neck, pausing to smell the jasmine on her wrists. Mrs. Brown had given Evelyn the soap last week when she made her first payment on Rebecca’s doll. Evelyn had used the scented cake on every inch of her body this morning, and for the second time in her life, she felt feminine. The first time was in Radford’s strong arms.

* * *

Radford heard Evelyn’s bedroom door close and purposefully stepped into the hall in front of her, halting in stunned appreciation when his eyes met hers. The emerald vision before him left him speechless. He could see the breathless rise and fall of her chest, but his own breathing seemed to have stopped. His gaze traveled the length of her gown and returned slowly to her face that had flushed to the color of spring roses. Her eyes were the exact green of her dress and that hair... that glorious abundance of shining black ringlets that he loved unbound and swirling around her hips, surprised him that it could be so magnificent styled any other way. A single strand dangled seductively over her ear and trailed between her collarbones.

Unconsciously, he moved forward and cupped her arms in his palms, letting his hands slide down her silk sleeves until they rested at her wrists. “You’re magnificent.”

“Thank you.” Her voice shook and she lowered her lashes.

He gently squeezed her wrists, regaining her attention. “I need to talk to you.”

“Evelyn!” William called up the stairs. “There’s an overdressed young man down here that says he’s willing to give you a ride to the wedding if you’re ready to go. You are ready, aren’t you?” William hollered from below.

“Yes, Papa,” Evelyn said over the railing.

“Tell him you forgot something in your room,” Radford urged, desperate to steal a few minutes alone with her.

“I can’t.” Evelyn ducked her face. “I have to go.” He tightened his hold around her wrists, but she stepped around him and gently, but firmly, pulled free. “You don’t have to explain about honoring Kyle,” she said quietly. “I understand. And I admire you for it.”

* * *

Kyle stood by the door, as spit-shined as his Sunday shoes, and incredibly handsome. Evelyn flushed as his eyes raked her from her tumbled curls to her green-encased toes, staring until her father cuffed his shoulder.

“Come here, pixie, before this boy drools on himself,” he said. He put his thin arms around her and hugged her. “Sometimes you remind me so much of your mother it tears my heart out.” He kissed her cheek then steered her toward Kyle. “Go on before I start rainin’ all over myself. I’ll follow with Radford.”

Kyle didn’t move and Evelyn squirmed beneath his intense regard. “Will you quit staring like you’ve never seen me in a dress before?” She whisked her palms down the front of her gown. “I’m the same girl you chased through the apple orchard.”

“Sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. He stepped aside and opened the door for her, but the instant it banged closed behind them, he reached out and caught her elbow. “You’d better stay away from that orchard tonight,” he said, his voice alarmingly seductive. “I wouldn’t let you get away this time.” In a moment he would be trying to kiss her and she just couldn’t let him. She cared too deeply for him to let him pursue a relationship with no future. Instead of commenting, she tugged him toward the carriage, let him assist her inside then talked about her horses all the way to the wedding.

The church was packed when they arrived and she heard the murmur begin when they entered. She huddled beneath her shawl, blushing from the surprised stares of all the guests. When the ceremony began and the bride and groom gazed at each other with adoration, Evelyn knew she’d made the right decision about Kyle.

Her legs quaked as he escorted her from the church and took her to the reception. Radford stood just inside Colter Hall beside Duke and Boyd, holding Rebecca’s hand in his long, bronzed fingers. His hair was brushed back into thick, deep-brown waves that fell over his white collar. Even next to Boyd’s extraordinary good looks, Radford was more attractive, more compelling in his cheviot suit of charcoal gray that complemented his lean height and dark features.

All eyes turned toward Evelyn and Kyle as though they were unknown guests. The men gawked at her the same way Kyle had earlier and she had never felt more conspicuous in her life.

Kyle touched her back and she looked up into his beaming face. “I believe you’re creating a scene. The girls are green and the older ladies are breaking their necks to get a look at you. Not to mention the men.”

She stared at him for a second before she laughed. “Oh, bosh. They’re probably trying to see if I’m wearing my work boots beneath my dress.”

He laughed and gestured toward the crowd. “Look.”

She did then clasped his arm for dear life. “Get me out of this doorway and find our table.” She heard his deep chuckle and silently cursed him as he winked at his brothers on the way by. The strutting cock was enjoying this while she was dodging the stares of men like Greg Hopper who was having trouble finding his mouth with his beer mug.

Kyle took her to the table their families were sharing then brought her a glass of punch. “Don’t drink that too fast. I heard that Perry Morton laced it with corn liquor.”

Evelyn gulped it down, hoping to calm her quaking limbs. Her father raised a gray eyebrow and she shrugged.

He laughed and shook his head.

She glanced at Kyle’s mother, but she was playing with Rebecca and Helen who were ducking behind Doc Kendall’s chair.

Evelyn drew a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. She watched the dancers twirl by, swirling scents of lavender powder and cologne, their laughter cheerful as they clung to each other. As her gaze traveled the room, she smelled the musty old wood, tobacco, yeasty beer, and beeswax, smells unlike her livery or Brown and Shepherd’s store.

Radford stood a few feet away, laughing with his brothers and their competitor, Tom Drake, but when he spotted Evelyn, his smile disappeared. His eyes grew dark, searching hers as if asking her a silent question.

Tom’s daughter, Amelia, joined their party and Radford turned away to greet Evelyn’s friend. Amelia’s chestnut-colored, long hair was pulled up in an elegant twist and secured with a pearl clasp that matched the buttons on her dress of mocha brown. Evelyn admired Amelia’s simple elegance, but she envied her Radford’s attention. When Amelia smiled and waved, Evelyn returned the greeting with sincerity. Still, she was relieved when Boyd swept Amelia into a dance and away from Radford.