The Rebel Heir (14 page)

“My… Do I need to further explain to you what I do, St. James? There isn't a real steam machine. I collect investors; we split up the profits—”

“I know how the business works,” St. James grumbled as he pulled Ash to the side to allow a group of gentlemen to pass. “Wouldn't it appear a more legitimate operation for gentlemen to invest their money in if you had a prototype? I asked Dean for the diagrams, but then he mentioned a model, turning gears and all.”

“Do we need turning gears?”

“It's a far sight better than you waving your hand over a cup of steaming tea for the effect of it.”

“I thought it rather clever,” Ash said.

“It wasn't.”

“Very well. At any rate, I have the diagrams now.”

“Nevertheless, I'm going to have Dean continue his work.”

“Until then, this will do,” Ash said, holding up the roll of paper in his hand.

“You memorized the terminology?” St. James asked, nodding toward the diagrams.

“Along with Dillsworth's financial investments in the past year. I've spent every night since I arrived in town poring over the document I retrieved from his library.”

“Anything of use?”

“He sold his interest in corn in the last year and invested in two different factories.”

“His investment in the factories was in the
London Chronicle
,” St. James pointed out. “I hope you have more information than that for your trouble.”

“Did the
Chronicle
mention how heavily invested he is in iron and tramways over on the continent? It's nearly his entire fortune.” Ash whispered the last bit out of respect to Brice, who was about somewhere in headquarters. They were discussing the man's family finances after all.

“No, it didn't,” St. James said.

“I plan to use that to point to steam and industry being the future. If Dillsworth is out of farming, others will want to be as well. It's 1817, mate. If we can cart goods about the continent on iron rails, we can have steam for every home.”

“Is that the new line?”

“Did you like it?”

St. James shrugged. “It's improving…”

“Glad to hear it. I'm off to meet with Rightworth.”

“Not to call on his daughter?” St. James asked with one brow raised in question.

“No.”
Not today
, Ash finished to himself.

“Be careful there, Crosby,” St. James warned as he turned.

“This job is why I'm here. You have no need to worry on my account.” Ash watched the head of the secretive club walk away before he moved toward the door. St. James had every reason to worry on Ash's account. Ash was worried on his own account. He'd spent the better part of last night and this morning thinking about his ride with Evie in the park. But now was not the time to dwell on the man's daughter.

He took a breath, focusing on the plans in his hands and the words he'd rehearsed. Tomorrow he would seek out Evie. Today…today was spoken for.

* * *

“Evangeline?” She heard her mother call from somewhere in the house beyond the door to the small receiving parlor.

Evangeline hated the way her mother said her name. From the woman's lips, her name sounded like a weapon, all sharp edges and piercing points. Evangeline didn't wish to spend the remainder of the afternoon reviewing proper conduct and the many ways she fell short of perfection, but she also couldn't hide in this parlor forever. Or could she? She pressed herself against the window frame in an attempt to blend into the draperies, allowing the sun to warm her skin for one more stolen moment before stepping back with a sigh. It was pointless. No one could hide from that woman, especially not Evangeline.

“Evaaaaan-geliiiiine!” Her mother's voice grew shriller the longer she was left alone in her search of the house.

With a sigh, she moved away from the sunny window where she'd spent a precious few minutes enjoying the view of the day on the other side of the glass. She should know better. There was no place for the sun in her life; she could only speak eloquently of it. Her mother's footsteps grew louder, and Evangeline scurried across the room to grab her abandoned embroidery from the one chair that sat in a shadowed corner far from the touch of sunlight. Falling into the chair, she arranged a pleasant look on her face just as the door was flung open.

“Good afternoon, Mother.”

“Did you not hear me?” Lady Rightworth asked with accusation in her voice as she stepped into the room.

“Apologies. I must have been absorbed in my needlework. Did you call for me?”

“Never mind that.” Her mother marched into the room. Blinking into the bright sunlight for only a second, she went straight to the closest window and slung the heavy brocade fabric over the opening. The room dimmed in an instant and her mother turned to stalk across it. “The moment you finished with your dance instructor, you were to come and see me, Evangeline. We have much to prepare for this afternoon. I daresay you aren't giving this season your full effort. Now, on your feet.”

“I am trying, Mother,” Evangeline stated as she laid her embroidery aside and stood.

“Yet your attempt is disappointing to me.” Her mother stepped closer, examining her. “You don't wish to disappoint me, do you?”

“Of course not.”

Lady Rightworth pursed her lips and looked closer at Evangeline's day dress. “A smaller waist.”

“Pardon?”

“We must increase your appeal to the gentlemen this season,” her mother explained. “I had a nice chat with Lady Smeltings yesterday at that awful garden party. She advised that I purchase stays that lace tighter and have your gowns taken in. Your gowns will still be fashionable, mind you. But tighter nonetheless. She's quite wise, and
her
daughter was betrothed within the first two weeks of her first season.”

“That's quite fortunate for her daughter,” Evangeline said, wishing the same had been true for her so that she wouldn't be standing here at this moment. Even tighter stays? She was already bound into every gown she wore, none of which were gowns she liked. She never complained about it, but her mother discussing her underthings with a neighboring lady was too much. “You discussed my stays with Lady Smeltings?”

“She only wants to help, darling. You do wish to find a husband, don't you?” her mother asked, squeezing her fingers around Evangeline's ribs.

“Certainly. I only…”
Want to breath while doing so
, she finished to herself.

Her mother's fingers bit harder into Evangeline's sides. “Are you complaining? I already allow you too much liberty as it is.”

“No, ma'am. I…”

“Don't stammer, Evangeline. It's so unbecoming.” Her mother's hands fell away from Evangeline. “I thought you were fashionable. If a much-admired lady like Lady Smeltings believes that you require more tightly laced stays, then tighter stays you shall have. Anything for you, my special daughter. Maid!” she called with a snap of her long fingers.

“Her name is Jane,” Evangeline whispered as she watched the young maid step into the small receiving parlor.

“My daughter requires a tightening of her stays. Take her to her bedchamber and do what you can to cinch in this sack of a day dress. Tomorrow we will buy tighter ones.”

Jane nodded in acceptance of her orders, but then her gaze shifted to Evangeline's. The maid's brows drew together as she seemed to read the discomfort Evangeline was feeling despite her efforts to keep it from showing on her face. The young maid took a breath and straightened her spine, a new light turning her eyes bright. Then she shifted her gaze back to the lady of the house. “Am I to do that before she's to go to the park with Lord Winfield in ten minutes' time?”

“Lord Winfield…in ten minutes' time?” Lady Rightworth fairly screamed. “Why was I not informed of this?” She spun back toward Evangeline. “Did you know of this event?”

“I…” Evangeline began, not knowing how to answer. Truthfully, this was the first she'd heard of such, but she could hardly admit that to her mother. Someone must take the blame for the oversight—and it was either Evangeline or Jane. She froze, her gaze going to Jane who still stood just inside the parlor door.

“He left word with Lord Rightworth this morning, my lady,” Jane offered with a kind smile, saving her from her mother's wrath—for the moment, anyway.

“Oh. I see.” Her mother took a step away as her temper waned. “Well, my husband is a busy man. It must have slipped his lordship's mind. Go on then, Evangeline. Your tighter stays will have to wait until your return.” She pierced Evangeline with a glare when she didn't immediately move. “Why you're still standing here with me, I have no idea. Go!”

“Yes, Mother.” Evangeline moved toward Jane, not understanding what had just happened. Lord Winfield hadn't seen Father today. Father had been in the library with Ash all morning. Then she saw the maid's mouth twitch with satisfaction in the same fashion that Victoria's did when her cousin was planning some scheme. That was when Evangeline understood. There was no plan to go to the park with Lord Winfield. Jane had lied to save her from her mother for the afternoon. If her mother found out…

“Do wear the new gloves I got for you, and the hat that matches that dress,” her mother commanded.

“Mother, those gloves…”
Don't fit at all
, she finished to herself. She should stop this charade. She'd get a brief reprieve from her mother's company, but she would pay the price later. And the price with Mother was always too high.

“Maid, tidy up her hair before she leaves the house.” Her mother tugged on Evangeline's dress until it hung in a manner that caused the look of disgust on the woman's face to diminish slightly. “Lord Winfield won't appreciate her arriving in such a state.”

“Yes, my lady,” Jane said, already pulling pins from her pocket and sticking them in Evangeline's hair.

“Evangeline, you do recall what you're to discuss with Lord Winfield?” her mother asked with narrowed eyes.

“How could I forget proper conversation?”

“Quite easily, it would seem, or you wouldn't require practice every morning. Remember this, no man wants your company for your opinions.” Her mother stuffed Evangeline's fingers into the too-small gloves and yanked them up over her palms. “You are to look smart on Lord Winfield's arm and keep quiet. That is all. And you
will
do as I say.”

Of course she would do as her mother asked—she always did. This woman whose tight grasp left Evangeline tender and somewhat bruised must be kept happy. But that was the problem. Lady Rightworth would never be happy. She would never be satisfied with Evangeline. Evangeline looked down at her hands, crushed into the gloves her mother had chosen for her. Her life was comprised of fashionable appearances made to raise her mother's standing in society. This wasn't for Evangeline's sake. This was about her mother. Evangeline cared nothing for fashionable appearances; she only wanted a moment's peace and the freedom to feel the sun on her face.

Her mother placed a hat on Evangeline's head, blocking any sun from reaching her skin and causing her to freckle. “It's all wrong, of course, but I suppose it will have to do.”

“Jane, didn't you say we're to go to the park for this outing?” Evangeline asked.

“Yes, my lady,” Jane said with a sly smile. “And we don't want to keep his lordship waiting.”

“I do so enjoy the outdoors,” Evangeline replied. “The trees provide nice shade in the park. Good day, Mother.” Evangeline walked to the front door and stepped out into the bright spring afternoon with Jane at her side. If she was to talk of the weather for the remainder of her life, the least she could do was experience it just once.

* * *

Evangeline stepped away from her maid on a wave of whispered encouragements, leaving Jane to sit alone beneath the shade of the large tree.

Her mother would be furious if she knew Evangeline hadn't come to the park with Lord Winfield, but instead had come to enjoy the day beyond the confines of their home. And Evangeline was quite certain that she would bring the roof down upon her head by leaving the shade of a tree to walk the sunny paths of Hyde Park when she spotted Ash from a distance. But Mother and her rules weren't present today.

Her maid's quick thinking had provided Evangeline with a much-needed break from such things even if for an hour or two, and for that she was grateful. Jane, of course, would be gone within the week—kindness never seemed able to survive under the same roof as her mother—but Evangeline accepted the woman's gesture today anyway.

Her heart pounded in her chest. The grass dampened her stockings at her ankles, and the sun beat down on her head with delicious freckle-causing heat, but she only moved faster toward Ash. It had only been a day since she'd seen him last, but it seemed a lifetime. Their carriage ride yesterday had changed everything, and not in the way she'd imagined.

Although logic told her to avoid him now that she knew who Ash Claughbane really was and why he was in town, she was walking faster in his direction. Granted, Evangeline had been told repeatedly that she made terrible decisions, and perhaps this could be counted in their number. But when he'd explained his decision to lead such an unusual life, when outrage should have filled her, she'd found she only felt a sense of rightness, justice even.

Evangeline had seen the evil that lurked beneath the surface of society's most respected members. She'd experienced it firsthand in the case of her own parents, having been ignored by her father and managed by her mother her entire life. Did the two of them not deserve to have her mother's pin money taken to afford Ash a nice meal? Let him take it. Evangeline would never steal from her family, but if Ash chose to do so, she wouldn't stop him. After all of her mother's schemes, it would be rather fitting to see the woman on the receiving end of someone else's plot for a change. As for her father, he would no doubt gain from Evangeline's marriage. What was a bit of money? Even if Ash was swindling her father, she trusted Ash.