Chapter 34
“Lord Lyndale wants me to marry his daughter.”
Three pairs of eyes turned to Jack. Anthony Stevens, James Devlin, and Brent Stone had met Jack at the local tavern for a Saturday afternoon gathering. After his second tankard of ale, Jack had found the courage to broach the subject that had been on his mind since leaving Lord Lyndale's home last evening.
Anthony spoke first. “What the devil do you mean Lyndale âwants' you to marry?”
“He caught us returning home together alone late last evening,” Jack said.
James Devlin slammed down his tankard. “Ha! I told you that you wouldn't be able to resist temptation. You should have crawled back to your former mistress like I advised.”
Christ, I tried!
Jack thought. But the fact that he could not maintain an erection with Molly Adler was not something he would ever admit to any of his colleagues.
“It's not what you think,” Jack said. “We learned that Randolph Sheldon was injured in a bar brawl by a Bow Street Runner. Evelyn insisted she see him. I didn't want her traveling to Shoreditch alone in the middle of the night so I took her in my carriage. It was still dark by the time we returned to her home, and Lyndale was waiting for her.”
Anthony smirked. “How could you be so foolish as to get caught, Jack?”
“You've compromised her reputation for certain. My only question is: Why hasn't Lyndale demanded you marry?” Devlin asked.
“Two reasons. He's aware of his daughter's stubborn nature, and Lyndale is not conventional by any standard. That's what makes him an exceptional teacher and mentor.”
Devlin loosened his cravat with a forefinger. “I'm glad it's not me. I've dodged the marriage trap one too many times.”
“Tell Lyndale to sod off,” Anthony said. “I'd never allow anyone to force me to do anything, let alone shackle myself to an unwanted wife.”
“Do you love her, Jack?” Brent spoke for the first time.
The question and the serious tone of Brent's voice caught Jack off guard. Anthony and Devlin's skepticism and sarcasm on the topic of marriage had been expected. But Jack could never predict what Brent Stone would say regarding the fair sex.
It was a fair question. Did he love Evelyn? He knew he cared deeply for her. He was fascinated by her quick wit and keen intelligence. He desired her. But love?
Was there even such an emotion or was it all fancy, concocted by women and weak men?
He'd never known Anthony, Devlin, or even Brent to fall victim to love. Jack was not a young fool. He was a seasoned barrister who had witnessed firsthand every human emotionâwhether in the courtroom or in his chambers. No plaintiff or defendant he had ever encountered had acted out of pure, unselfish love.
No, he was too jaded, too pragmatic, to believe in such nonsense.
But Lyndale's words haunted him.
Could you bear the thought of her marrying another?
No. He couldn't. But that was jealousy and possessiveness, not love. He wanted far more from Evelyn than a barrister-client relationship. But why couldn't he have what he desiredâEvelyn in his bedâand still maintain an emotional distance?
“I care for her. I respect and owe her father a great debt,” Jack answered Brent.
“What of the man she was to marry?” Brent asked.
“She's had a change of heart regarding Randolph Sheldon,” Jack said.
Devlin slapped Jack on the shoulder. “I was right. You bedded her. Anthony owes me ten pounds.”
Anthony shrugged a massive shoulder. “I guess I do.”
Jack glared at Devlin and Anthony. “You made a wager whether I would bed Evelyn Darlington?”
“I won,” Devlin said with a mocking grin.
Jack should have expected Devlin and Anthony's antics, but it was Brent Stone's close regard and knowing eyes that were most disturbing.
“Does her father know you've been intimate with her?” Brent asked.
Jack shook his head. “I don't suspect he does. He believes only that we are working together. Even Lyndale would demand we marry if he knew.”
“Will you propose to Lady Evelyn, then?” Brent asked.
“That's just it. Evelyn is not a typical woman. Her father knows she won't jump at any proposal. He asked me to
convince
her.”
The corner of Brent's mouth lifted. “You'll have to woo her.”
Jack sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I will do Lyndale's bidding, but the ultimate decision will be up to the lady to decide.”
The troublesome truth was the thought of wooing Evelyn excited Jack. Thankfully, she had come to her own conclusion that Randolph Sheldon did not suit her, and now with her father's blessing, Jack was free to pursue her.
“What about your career? A demanding wife?” Brent asked.
“I've decided marriage need not interfere if I keep my head. As for matters of the heart, that's utter nonsense.”
Brent laughed. “It may not be as easy as you think, Jack.”
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Evelyn had immersed herself in the mundane household task of cataloging and organizing the linen closets alongside Mrs. Smith in a vain attempt to keep her thoughts from the previous evening. It wasn't until the afternoon, when they opened the last closet, that Evelyn succumbed to a fierce sense of urgency. She had to tell Randolph the truth without delay. She had tried last night, but he lay injured, drugged, and when he had clutched her hand and pled, she had lost her nerve.
She could no longer afford such weakness.
She hurried to her room and changed from a plain, serviceable dress to a walking dress of white muslin with a pink pelisse and rushed down to the dining room. Her father was already seated with a plate of stew before him, reading
The Times.
Her heart lurched at the sight of him, thankful that he didn't berate her last night when she and Jack were caught sneaking into the kitchen. Any other parent would have thrust a pistol into Jack Harding's back and escorted him to the altar.
But then he was ignorant of her relationship with Jack. No doubt her father would behave differently if he knew.
“I'm going to see Randolph this afternoon,” she announced.
Lyndale lowered the paper. She was struck by the deep circles under his eyes and his sallow complexion. He appeared to have aged ten years overnight. Guilt seared her breast that his already-fragile health may have suffered due to her careless behavior.
“Why?” His steady gaze bore into her.
“I attempted to tell Randolph that I no longer wish to marry him, but he had been dosed with laudanum, and I fear he misunderstood.”
“Does your change of heart regarding Randolph have anything to do with Mr. Harding?”
Evelyn worked hard to maintain a blank expression. Despite his health and busy schedule at the university, Lyndale still had moments of great perceptiveness. She reminded herself that years ago he had been a distinguished trial barrister who was skilled at obtaining confessions from adverse witnesses on cross-examination.
She dare not confess her illicit affair with Jack.
“I, ah. I'd rather not say, Father.”
“Come close, Evelyn.”
She obliged and took the seat next to his.
He reached out to clasp her hand. “Evelyn, I'm getting old, and I want nothing more than to see you happy. I have regrets in my life, but marrying your mother was never one of them. You look so much like her. You have her golden beauty and rare intelligence. I'm thankful that you have come to your own conclusion regarding Randolph, but I also know you have been fond of Jack Harding since you were a child.”
Sweet Lord, did he know she had been with Jack? She would die of humiliation. Schooling her expression was much more difficult now, and she stirred uneasily in her chair.
“Go see Randolph. Tell him it's over between you, but have Jack Harding take you
and
have Janet accompany you as a proper chaperone.”
She leaned forward and kissed him on his cheek. “Thank you for understanding.”
Lyndale squeezed her hand. “If Randolph's well enough to travel, Jack must convince him to turn himself in to Bow Street.”
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Evelyn opened the bedroom door with foreboding. Her eyes immediately went to the four-poster.
A portly middle-aged man was bent over the bed, stethoscope in hand, listening to Randolph's breathing.
The doctor straightened as she approached and pushed his spectacles farther up the bridge of his nose. “I'm Dr. Astor. Mr. Harding sent me.”
“Yes, Doctor. Thank you for coming. How is Mr. Sheldon?”
“Three cracked ribs and a mild concussion. He should cease taking the laudanum. There can be dangerous side effects from the drug after trauma to the head.”
She nodded, and couldn't help but wonder what favor the respectable-looking doctor owed Jack to convince him to attend a murder suspect.
“Mr. Harding is waiting for you downstairs,” she said.
The doctor left and the door closed behind him.
Evelyn walked to the side of the bed. Randolph's pupils were back to normal size, his face a healthy color. She sighed, relieved he was no longer drugged.
Randolph's gaze roved and appraised her, and he reached for her hand. “Evelyn, what would I do without you?”
A cold knot formed inside her, and she paused to catch her breath. “I'm glad you are feeling better, but there is something I must tell you. I no longer wish to marry.”
“So last night wasn't a nightmare! You meant what you said. Is it because I'm accused of Bess Whitfield's murder?”
“No. I've betrayed our trust. I've had an affair.”
“An affair! With who?” He released her hand and struggled to sit.
“It doesn't matter now, Randolph. What matters is you deserve better. I'm certain you will meet another woman someday. Despite everything, I won't abandon you, and will do everything in my power to see you through your troubles. My dearest hope is that we can remain friends.”
“Friends! After you behaved like a strumpet?”
He threw the words at her like stones, and she flinched as if he had struck her.
“I trust Mr. Harding will still act as my barrister,” Randolph said.
“Yes, yes.”
“Then tell him that I'm ready to surrender to the authorities. Leave now, Evelyn.”
“Randolph.” She reached out, tears in her eyes, but he pulled away.
“Leave, please!”
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By the time Evelyn came down the stairs, the doctor had departed and Jack was pacing back and forth on the floral-patterned carpet. Simon was nowhere to be seen, and Janet was waiting in the carriage.
“I spoke with Dr. Astor. Randolph suffered a concussion,” she told Jack.
“I know. I spoke to the doctor on his way out. He assured me Randolph will be fine and is able to travel,” Jack said. “Tell me what else happened.”
“I broke off our engagement.”
“Evie, love, you were never officially engaged. There was no reading of the banns and you never had Lord Lyndale's consent.”
“Don't mock me, Jack.”
“I apologize. It was not my intention to do so. What did you tell Randolph?”
“That my feelings for him have changed. That I wish to maintain our friendship.”
“And?”
“That I had an indiscretion. I never named you, of course. But he spurned my friendship nonetheless. I doubt he'll ever speak to me again.”
“He may not have whether or not you confessed to an affair. I've never known of a man and woman to remain close friends after one has broken off a relationship and the other continues to have romantic feelings.”
“Randolph agreed to surrender to the authorities, and he wants you by his side as his barrister.”
Jack nodded. “I've contacted a Bow Street constable who is a friend and owes me a favor. He will return with Randolph and hold him in custody for as long as he possibly can before escorting him to Newgate so that we can finish our investigation. He cannot hold him for too long as Randolph's trial will have to start. But he has connections and will ensure Randolph is treated well in prison.”
“Does everyone owe you a favor?”
He grinned. “It comes with the profession.”
“I doubt that, Jack. What will we do if we can't find the killer?”