The Rebel Heir (21 page)

Ash drew back. Waste of flesh? Who spoke to their daughter in such a way?

“This isn't the same,” Evie pleaded. “I've changed. I would never…”

“You were to be special—the shining gem of society. My darling daughter.” Evie's mother grasped her chin between her long fingers, and lifted Evie's face toward the moonlight filtering through the trees. “This strumpet who struts about in the dark is no daughter of mine.”

“Mother, I'll do anything you ask.” Evie staggered back a step as her mother released her. “Please, don't send me away—not until season's end. I'll be the lady you wish me to be.”

“Your lessons will begin at daybreak tomorrow, and there will be no tea and biscuits, no rest from our task. Clearly I've been too lenient with you.” She sneered down her nose at Evie, seeming to relish the way she was treating her daughter. “If you prove your worth, perhaps I'll allow you dinner tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Evie dipped her head to the woman. “I won't disappoint you.”

“That, Evangeline, is doubtful.”

Ash couldn't listen to any more. He pushed from the trunk and began to prowl through the trees, not knowing what he may do once he reached Evie's mother and not caring one bit. He was only a few paces from the path where they stood when a hand wrapped around his arm and dragged him back into the shadows.

“What the…” Ash turned to face his attacker, only to find Kelton Brice staring at him.

“You can't help her,” Brice said in a whisper.

“The hell I can't.” Ash pushed against his friend's hold only to receive a shove back toward the concealment of the woods.

“If you wish to marry her by special license in the morning, be my guest.” He released Ash's arm and waved for him to lead the way.

Ash didn't move. His body still reeled from his time with Evie. He longed to surge forward, but his mind refused to budge. He didn't get involved—it was his own rule. “I…”

“That's what I thought. No man wants to gain a wife in that manner. I would know.” Brice sneered at the thought, clearly thinking of his own situation.

“I can't hide here and allow her to take the blame for my ideas. The things her mother said…” Ash's voice trailed away with a shake of his head.

“There is no assistance a gentleman can provide a lady on a moonlit path in Vauxhall Gardens without it involving a leg shackle.”

“Are you suggesting I allow her mother to berate her and browbeat her into submission while I watch?”

“Yes.” Brice eased his grip on Ash's arm but he didn't release him. “You must. Save her tomorrow, but not tonight, not like this. Or you seal your own fate.”

“Why are you even here?” Ash finally asked, shaking free of his friend's restraint and pulling his coat back into place.

“Meeting with my future father-in-law,” Brice bit out. “People speak of wives as if it's a prize to be burdened with a woman for the rest of one's life.” He turned and started walking through the woods toward a different section of the path. “This lady in particular… I don't mind telling you, she's a right nasty piece of work.”

Ash fell into pace with his friend, glancing back one last time to where Evie and her mother had been. They were moving down the path toward the garden's entrance now. He knew his friend was right, but his thoughts were still fixated on her.
There is nothing you can do for her tonight
, he reminded himself fiercely. Forcing his attention back to his friend, Ash said, “You have my condolences. St. James mentioned you got a title for heroism as well. It's Hardaway now, isn't it?”

“I was doing Spares business. Do you think I want a title and a wife to draw attention to my work with the Spare Heirs?”

The new Lord Hardaway didn't pause for Ash to answer, only plowing forward with, “Now, everywhere I go I'm getting congratulations and thanks.
Oh, how heroic you are, Lord Hardaway. Tell us how you saved your future wife from the fire
,” he mimicked. “I'll thank them to keep their bloody traps shut about that fire. If anyone guesses why I was there when it happened…”

“Why were you there?” Ash stepped over a log and kicked aside a fallen branch in their way. “St. James didn't reveal much after it happened. It had nothing to do with my business dealings—that much I know.”

“Do you think yours is the only work the Spares are involved with?” Hardaway shook his head with a frown. “St. James has his hands in more pies than we could eat in a year, and I enjoy pie. Cook makes one with a sauce so rich—”

“Then it
was
a different Spare Heirs job,” Ash cut in. “I can see why you don't want the title linking you to the fire.”

“Who gives two damns about the title? I don't want a blasted wife.”

Ash couldn't blame the man. As much as he wanted to help Evie this evening, he didn't want to trade his freedom for a life he hadn't chosen. “Did the lady's father see reason tonight?”

“I never got around to speaking with him on the subject,” Hardaway ground out, his blond hair catching the lantern light as he looked up and sighed. “My
betrothed
stormed off when I arrived, and had her mother chasing after her. I thought I had my chance when she fled. But the lady's twin sister kept shooting me these looks across the gazebo. Like a wounded puppy, that one. At any rate, I couldn't very well discuss the matter while someone who looks just like the lady herself stared me down with sorrow-filled eyes.”

“Bad luck, that,” Ash offered as he pushed a branch away.

“It's not my favorite encounter with twin ladies, to be sure. There was this time in the country…”

Ash stopped listening. Hardaway didn't seem to require someone to listen when he told one of his stories, and Ash's mind still lingered on the other side of the patch of woods and Evie's encounter with her mother.

He'd often wondered what scared Evie so terribly that she couldn't speak her own thoughts. Now he knew. A few pieces slipped into place even though he had no details of her story. Summer of madness. What the devil had that meant? Whatever she'd done, it couldn't justify the way her mother was treating her. Nothing justified such treatment.

It was no wonder she'd hidden herself from him. From the world, really. She was scared of revealing everything her mother hated, everything that woman had stripped from her one hurtful word at a time. Sometimes words were more powerful than the strongest fists. And yet, she'd told Ash that she wanted him. She'd laughed and smiled up at him, kissing him with the command of a woman who knew her own mind. He knew the real Evangeline Green—she'd shown him.

The knowledge of what she had risked to meet him, to open up and let him into her world, made tonight that much more precious. He would treasure every second. No regrets. Even if it had ended badly, the taste of Evie was still on his lips. She'd told him she wanted him, and he'd held her in his arms. He wanted her too. The memory of her body pressed close to his seeped through every crevice of his mind, filling him with longing even while a slow grin began to cover his face.

Was Evie smiling over their time together as well? Or had fear taken the place of such memories? Her mother's arrival had certainly stomped on any embers that had burned bright between them tonight. Would that fear keep her beyond his reach from this day forward?

He didn't know where things were headed with her, but as long as he stayed, he needed her to stay with him. He couldn't lose her, not yet.

Ash moved through the Pepridges' garden party like a dog on the scent of a fox. Hang his objective, his commitment to his parents, or his responsibility to the Spare Heirs. He needed to see Evie.

“You're certain this was where she was to be today?” Ash asked Ethan, Lord Ayton, as they moved through the crowd gathered in the shade of the trees near the Pepridge home.

“I've told you yes twice already, Crosby,” Ayton ground out.

“And?” Ash glanced back at his friend, who was now a step behind him as they squeezed between two groups of chatting ladies.

Ayton caught up to him in one long stride, muttering in a low voice only Ash could hear, “St. James arranged your invitation today for Spares business.”

“I'm not sure of your point,” Ash lied, tossing out a smile for the ladies they passed.

“This lady of yours seems to be falling into the category of your business, not Spares business,” Ayton said with a lopsided, sympathetic smile.

Ash surveyed the side of the garden where they now stood. There—Evie was talking with a friend on the outskirts of the party. “It's rather complicated, to be honest,” he said as he watched her for a second.

“Nothing involving a lady is simple,” Ayton grumbled in return as he stared in the same direction. It only took one glance to see who held his friend's attention, as his gaze locked on the lady speaking with Evie.

Ash shot his friend a smile, already moving in Evie's direction. “I've always enjoyed a challenge.”

“Does my hat match this dress?” he heard the lady beside Evie turn to ask as he moved within earshot.

“Your hat always matches your dress. As does mine.” Evie was staring off into the distance. She hadn't seen him yet.

He slowed his pace, taking in how together she appeared today. How odd. Ash felt bruised from her encounter with her mother last night, and yet she showed no evidence that anything had occurred.

“Roselyn,” Evie asked, “do you ever want to
not
wear a matching hat? Perhaps arrive at a garden party with no hat at all, lift your face to the sun, and encourage freckles?”

“One of my dear friends has freckles, and I find them charming on her,” Roselyn returned. “I don't know that I could pull off the look myself.”

Ash glanced back over his shoulder in search of Ayton. He'd clearly had his eyes on Roselyn a few minutes ago, and Ash hadn't intended to abandon him to society so quickly. Perhaps Ayton had been wise, unlike Ash, and had decided against tempting fate by going near the woman. But then Ash spied him caught in conversation with a gentleman Ash didn't recognize. So much for abandoning him to society. “Sorry, mate,” Ash whispered to himself as he turned back to Evie and her friend.

“I find I no longer care how it will look,” Evie was saying, her face lifted to the sun. “I want to feel the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair.”

Ash paused at her words. That was his Evie, the true Evie. Perhaps her mother hadn't stomped out every burning ember of rebellion she possessed after all. Hope surged through him, making him realize why people were willing to pay such a high price for a vial of it.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Evangeline?” her friend asked.

“I know. It's shameful, isn't it?” Evie chuckled. “Mother would scrub me down and cover me in perfumed powders at the mention of such a thing.”

“I won't tell anyone,” her friend told her as Ash moved with silent steps through the thick grass.

“I may not be as trustworthy,” Ash said from just behind them, making both ladies jump.

Evie turned, her expression somewhere between surprise and relief. His mind was a bit muddled at the moment as well. His need to see her again had led him here. Now that he stood in front of her, what the devil was he to do? Silence stretched out between them, laden with the heat and turmoil following last night.

“Lady Roselyn Grey,” Evie blurted out as she blinked up at him. “This is Lord Crosby. Crosby, Lady Roselyn is—”

“Far too busy to talk to the likes of you,” Ayton finished with a grin as he joined them.

“Never,” Roselyn said. “I hope you will pardon my friend Lord Ayton, who has
no
control over
my
schedule.”

“I believe I approve of this friendship, Ayton.” Ash gave the lady a nod, then turned to his giant of a friend. “Anyone who can put you in your place deserves a medal of some sort.”

“I fear she would be so weighed down with awards, she would cease to move,” Ayton said as he stared at the lady.

“Then she won't mind when I steal her friend away for a turn in the garden?” Ash asked.

“Of course not,” Roselyn replied, glancing back and forth between the two of them with a curious look in her eyes.

Evie gave him a small nod. “Roselyn, if my mother comes looking for me, tell her I've gone inside to avoid the sun.
That
activity I'm sure she would condone.”

His heart clenched in some way he should most likely avoid as she slipped her hand around his offered arm. Where should he begin, when he wasn't even sure what needed to be said? He only knew that what he'd seen last night overshadowed any thought of what they had shared beneath that tree, and that was a difficult task. “I need to speak with you.”
Good start, Ash. Statement of fact. Facts are helpful.

“Is it about last night?” Her smile was false. One of the numbered ones, no doubt.

Any hope he'd possessed when he first saw her today was snuffed out at the sight of that smile. But he had to try. He needed to see her true smile again as much as he needed air, water, and a stiff drink about now. He sighed. “Yes, it's about last night.”

“Then, no, you may not.” She nodded to another lady as they strolled around the end of the hedgerow.

“Why not? Evie, what I witnessed wasn't right. You can't tell me that you…”

Evangeline laughed to cover his words with a glance over her shoulder to where a group of older society matrons had gathered to gossip. “Oh, Lord Crosby, you do jest. I too have had a fine morning.”

What? He blinked for a second, before following her gaze and catching on. She couldn't risk being heard. Searching the surrounding garden, he spied a gate in a tall wall of greenery and adjusted their direction. “My morning was less than grand due to my concern over rain clouds.”

She glanced up at him as they moved step-by-step closer to the gate and the ability to speak without blasted weather metaphors. “It rains here every day, my lord. Every day.”

“Then you understand my concern.” He couldn't bear the look of complete sorrow in her eyes that one glance held. He longed to knock her mother to the ground in a most ungentlemanly fashion.

“I've become quite resistant to a few puddles.”

“You shouldn't have to be.” His voice sounded harsh, even to his ears. He swung the gate open a bit harder than he'd intended because it slammed into the wall of shrubbery and became stuck in the dirt.

Was her father aware of her treatment? Surely he was. How could he not be? They lived in the same home. Ash tensed at the thought of Evie trapped there, a prisoner in her own family.

Anger surged anew within his veins. The revenge he would enact on Rightworth would be sweeter because of what her father had allowed to happen to Evie. What kind of man said nothing while his daughter was held captive in a life not of her choosing? But Ash knew the sort of man Rightworth was—he'd known that unfortunate truth for some time. Rightworth was the sort of man who destroyed families, and after what Ash had witnessed last night, apparently the man's own family was included in the number. He would pay not only for what he had done to Ash's family but what he was still doing to Evie. She had no one—no one but Ash. He had to protect her.

“Not all of us are free to appreciate the sunshine, my lord.” She stepped through the gate, taking in the maze they'd entered. She turned back to him with a thin smile. “But enough about the weather.”

“This has nothing to do with the weather.” His words were harsher than he'd intended as he worked to tamp down the rage that filled him. Glancing in both directions, Ash turned left, since either direction led into a vast green unknown.

“I know.” She gave him a shy smile. “Any chance of us discussing something happy? The gardens last night were beautiful. I enjoyed…my time with you.” She blushed and looked down at her feet as they walked into the vibrant green maze. “I didn't want it to end.”

“Neither did I.” He squeezed the fingers that wound around his arm, holding on to her as if she might dart away like a wounded animal. He sent a questioning glance in her direction, but otherwise remained silent. In the absence of words, they moved farther into the maze, turning one corner, then another. The only sound was that of crunching gravel beneath their feet as they twisted on a directionless path.

“Mother has always had great plans for me. I'm sorry you had to see that.”

“I'm not,” Ash said in complete honesty.

“Yet I find myself embarrassed by it today.”

“You shouldn't be. Now you're not alone in your dealings with her.”

She nodded as they rounded another corner of the maze. “I try to act as if all is well.”

“You don't have to act with me, Evie.”

“I know.”

“What great plans does your mother have for you that I threatened to spoil last night?”

“Marriage,” she stated.

“Is that all?” he asked as he studied her. Surely there was more to it than that. Marriage was accomplished rather easily, wasn't it? He'd escaped it with Hardaway's assistance only last night.

“Marriage to a gentleman who meets her needs—someone with wealth and a title greater than Father's,” Evangeline clarified. “She sees me as her second chance at success.”

“Did she do so poorly in her own attempt?” She was Lady Rightworth with an estate, a house in London, his family's money… What more did she want?

“I believe she wishes to look down in disdain on all those around her who have the misfortune of not being her.”

“A noble goal,” he teased. “What's success in life without being able to throw stones at those who are less fortunate?”

“Indeed.” She laughed and her hand relaxed a bit on his arm.

“Evie…” He shouldn't ask, but his curiosity needed to be sated. “What was the summer of madness your mother mentioned?”

“Oh that.” Evie took a breath, her blush deepening to a dark pink on her cheeks. “She finds a way to remind me of that failing every day. I suppose she doesn't want me to mistakenly forget the largest regret of my childhood. It isn't likely that I would dismiss it, even without her reminders. Mistakes large enough to shape the remainder of our lives aren't often forgotten. I was twelve when it happened. Old enough to know how a lady should act, but sometimes people can be pushed…” Evie pressed her lips together and stared down the winding path ahead for a moment before continuing.

“My great-aunt—and benefactress to our family at the time—was visiting us for the summer. My sister and I disliked her. She was and is a hateful woman. The season never seemed to end that year. Such cruelty. Sue and I would sit together at night and dream up ways to be rid of her for good. We kept a list. False letters calling her home, painting her skin a hideous color while she slept—that one was Sue's idea. It was innocent.

“But then Great-Aunt Mildred taunted Sue one day, told her she would never find a husband. She said that she would take away all funding for Sue's paints and canvases. You would have to know my sister to know how hurtful that was. Anyway, I couldn't stand by and watch for another day. Sue was devastated, and I was angry. So we took the most horrible items from our list. That night while she was in the drawing room with our mother, my sister and I stole into my great-aunt's bedchamber. We replaced her face powders with flour, poured oil on the floor beside her bed, and wrote awful insults on every piece of paper on her desk.” Evie squeezed her eyes shut for a second as if blocking out the memory. “Then we went to the kitchen and put…ipecac in her evening tea. Or so I thought. It was childish.”

“Actually, I find I wish I knew you when you were twelve. You sound quite amusing.”

“Great-Aunt Mildred didn't find it so amusing. You see, it wasn't ipecac that we put in her tea. It was strychnine. It was a mistake. I don't know why they were kept together in that old mess of a cupboard, but they were. The bottles were similar. It's no excuse, but that is what happened. She was so vile. But I didn't mean… The doctor arrived in time to save her, but not the situation. When she was well enough to return to Scotland, she did so, and she took her funds with her. My family was left destitute. And it was my fault.”

Silence fell between them for a moment as numbers crashed through Ash's mind. Nineteen, twelve, seven…seven years… Her family was left with no funds because Evie had accidentally poisoned a cruel relative seven years ago. Rightworth had taken everything his family possessed around the same time. That was more than coincidence.

Her actions when she was only a child had destroyed his family but had ultimately led him here to walk arm in arm with her. The knowledge should make him despise her, and yet all he could feel was grateful that he was here walking on this path with Evie at his side. He must be losing his mind. It was poor timing indeed, since he'd just realized the mess he'd mired himself in. If he completed his task in town and had his revenge on her father, Evie would watch as her family lost everything once again—just as had happened when she was twelve. But the man deserved Evie's wrath as well, didn't he? Somehow Ash didn't think Evie would see things in those terms.

With her hand wrapped around his arm, they walked in synchronized steps. When Ash took all the man had, would Evie take the blame again, even though she had no knowledge of his plans? Ash had never considered Lord Rightworth's family when he'd dreamed of taking his revenge. He'd known the man had daughters, but they hadn't been real people to him then. And he certainly hadn't imagined he would meet Evie and feel… He didn't know what he felt for her, but he knew whatever it was, it was going to complicate everything. Ash blinked the passing shrubbery back into focus.