A Practical Arrangement (19 page)

Her practical nature pleased her in this moment; it would serve her well in her role at Cherry Hill. Despite the enormity of the task, her confidence remained intact. If only she felt as confident where her husband was concerned. That thought intruded on her peace, and she stepped up her pace. Anxious to gauge his reaction to their meeting this morning after...Well! Best to have it done with.

“
Good morning, Mrs. Masterson,” Mrs. O'Leary greeted. “Will you be taking breakfast?”

“
Thank you, yes,” Evangeline answered. “Has Mr. Masterson taken his meal already?”

“
Oh, yes, ma'am,” the woman responded. “Mr. Masterson had a visitor, and they've gone near the field house I believe.”

“
I see. Thank you.” A slight sinking feeling dampened her high spirits. After last night, she'd hoped beyond reason that her husband harbored true affection for her. His absence this morning confused her. No sense jumping to conclusions! With no real idea of what to expect, Evangeline decided it wise to withhold any hasty judgments. “I shall have my meal, Mrs. O'Leary, and then a report on general daily activities before I begin writing my letters. Will that interfere with your duties?”

“
Not at all, Mrs. Masterson!” the good natured woman exclaimed with a broad smile. “Would you care to examine the menu as well?”

The cheerful response revived Evangeline's confidence. “That would be wonderful, Mrs. O'Leary. Thank you.”

By mid-afternoon she'd exhausted her tasks. Cherry Hill's schedules needed little adjustment at present, Evangeline discovered. Mrs. O'Leary, whom Dorcas had informed her oversaw the kitchen and the female servants, had matters well in hand. A delightful woman, Betsy O'Leary exuded enthusiasm in all she did or spoke of. Evangeline rather thought her wild, red hair matched her personality well and found the woman a joy to work with.

She sighed, adding a sugar cube to her teacup and stirring absently. Thomas had yet to return to the house. Truthfully, relief mixed with anxious wonder, for she could not imagine what to say to him when he did appear.

Of all the nonsense! Sitting around and fretting like a ninny!

In that moment, Evangeline determined to go about her business and push all thoughts of Thomas Masterson from her mind. Nodding at her own return of sound sense, she sipped the deliciously warm brew, cozy contentment blossoming. A brisk walk after tea would set her to rights completely. The aroma of warm bread stole her attention, and she indulged in a slice with jam, a favorite treat, before calling for her hooded wrap.

“
Mrs. O'Leary, I shall not wander far,” Evangeline assured the nervous woman.

“
The wind is bitterly cold and it looks like rain! I'd not forgive myself if you took ill, ma'am. Mr. Masterson will not like it.”

“
I've a strong constitution,” Evangeline announced, ending the discussion. “Afternoon walks are a regular habit of mine. Mr. Masterson is aware.”

Stepping out the door without a backward glance, Evangeline set off. The wooded patch she'd spied from the sitting room window practically begged her to explore. Frozen grass crunched beneath her steps as icy air stung her nose and cheeks, the sound and sensation fueling her sense of adventure. Nature consumed her, quieting her torrid thoughts as the rustling of frozen leaves betrayed scampering squirrels, and frosted branches hung wearily under the drab, cloudy sky. Wholly consumed with the spectacle before her, she slowed her pace.

The tree line stretched further than she'd estimated, and before she’d traveled half its length, cold, sleeting drizzle began to pelt her from the menacing gray clouds, forcing her to turn back. Rejuvenated from her vigorous dash toward the dry warmth of indoors, Evangeline sloshed into the great stone house cold and sopping wet but in high spirits.

“
Oh, there you are!” Mrs. O'Leary hurried to meet her with what could only be described as nervousness. “Mr. Masterson has ordered your bath, ma'am.”

“
My bath?” Evangeline sputtered, caught off guard.

“
Yes, indeed, ma'am. Told me to send you upstairs right away.”

Having found the woman so transparent in their earlier interactions, Evangeline paused and wondered at her choice of words. She could gain nothing from the woman's tone, but her countenance hinted at an anxious state of mind. “Very well,” she responded, a nervous flutter in her middle stifling the questions on her lips.

Was her husband angry with her? She could imagine no reason why he should be, but something about Mrs. O'Leary's manner set her on edge. She hurried up the wide, wooden staircase.

Thomas looked up from the fire at her entrance, dismissing the two servants who had only just poured steaming water into the tub. His gray-green eyes flashed with little contained fury, setting the flutters in her middle to full-blown shudders. Evangeline remained inside the door, dripping, waiting for his impending set down.

Chapter Ten

“
Have you frozen yourself completely?” Thomas' voice was taut with tension. “Are you mad, traipsing about in this wet, frigid weather?” Anger simmered in his eyes, their hazel hue alive with heated emotion.

Evangeline stood before him, a coldness chilling her to the bone that had nothing to do with time spent in the icy downpour.

“
Answer me,” he barked.

She flinched at the harsh command. “I am not
mad
, as you put it, and assure you I am quite capable of enjoying the outdoors without freezing myself
completely
.” There! Her reply came out much bolder than she'd expected.

“
Evangeline,” Thomas warned. “I'll not tolerate you endangering your health.”

“
I beg your pardon?” she breathed. “I took a walk, as I do every afternoon. Why on earth are you so riled?”

He sprang from the chair, gaining her and grasping her close in an instant. Immediately, Evangeline went rigid with trepidation, but his hands were gentle and loving.

“
Please, Evie,” Thomas rasped, hurt plain in his expression at her mistrust. “Please do not expect the worst of me.”

His plea cut straight through her heart. Recalling her own supplication - that her mother think the best of her father rather than the worst - smothered her burning outrage. She found herself wanting to comfort him, the idea contrary to the anger and offense she had only just reined in.

“
I was worried. I
am
worried, Evie.”

“
Thomas, I am fine,” she said softly. “Why are you so upset? I do not understand.”

“
Let me undress you.” He waited not her permission one way or the other, frantically stripping her sodden wrap and gown from her. “Get into the bath and warm yourself.”

Evangeline allowed him his way. It seemed to soothe and console him where words failed. Sinking beneath the warmed water so soon after coming indoors set her frozen feet on fire. She hissed at the stinging burn.

“
You see? I was correct; you are much too cold.”

“
Really, Thomas, you overreact. It is only that I have not thawed sufficiently before getting into the bath.” Spoken with the intent to reassure, Evangeline realized too late her words provoked him further as his jaw hardened.

“
Since you insist on continuing in stubborn denial, you leave me no choice, Evangeline. You will not venture out of doors without me.”

“
Mr. Masterson,” Evangeline addressed firmly. “I may be your wife – and I've no wish to perturb you, rest assured – but I am no silly child and do not expect to be ordered about as such.”

Assuming her husband to be in the grasp of an emotional fit akin to those her mother succumbed to, Evangeline reasoned the best course of action to continue unyielding and firm. It certainly worked with her mother. “I enjoy my afternoon activity and intend to carry on with the pleasant exercise. If it will set you at ease, I shall don extra layers for warmth.”

Who could argue with such practical sense?

“
Mrs. Masterson,” Thomas practically growled his address, although his lip curved upward at the corner and his brow arched speculatively, “do you mean to inform me that you will disobey?”

Disobey? Oh! Why couldn't she read his expression clearly?

Uncertain how to respond considering the mixed signals she perceived, Evangeline opted for tempered frankness. “Disobey is a tyrannical word, Mr. Masterson. I prefer we come to an understanding.”

“
Then understand, Evangeline, that I will not bargain with you on this issue. You will obey me.”

Of all the nonsense!

This man was nothing like her mother, she realized anew. How had she convinced herself she could reason with him? He had every right to demand her obedience – and she had no recourse. Exactly the reason she had never wanted to marry. Staring into the bath water, her cheeks ablaze with anger and humiliation, she crossed her arms over the tops of her breasts. Nakedness before him in this moment was more than she could bear.

“
Come out of the bath before the water chills,” Thomas invited, all traces of anger gone. Wrapping a flannel drying cloth around her and rubbing her vigorously, he added, “Trust me, Evie. I act in the best interest of us both.”

She did not respond. What would it matter?

When silence stretched on, he lifted her chin and studied her intently. His gaze burned with an emotion she could not decipher before he scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bed, laying her back and stripping the flannel from her with deliberate care. She covered herself as best she could, but his hands captured hers and brought her arms to her sides. Evangeline remained just as he had positioned her and turned her head away from him. His clothing hit the floor along with his boots, and his weight settled alongside her on the bed. Still, he did not speak.

Surely he could not think to use her body at such an inappropriate moment!

His hand caressed down her side, revealing without doubt his interest, and he tasted the flesh of her shoulder and collarbone with soft kisses. She did not move a muscle.

“
Do not be upset, Evie,” he murmured against her skin.

Upset was not the word she'd use. A much stronger term was in order, she railed silently. Did he think to order her about one minute and then expect her affections in the next? His kisses trailed to her breasts. Oh! He was infuriating! She closed her eyes against the delicious pleasure spreading outward as heat suffused her body.

“
Come back to me, Evie. Please.” Trailing his caress across her breast, he kissed up her neck and sought the corner of her mouth.

Bread and butter!

She could not refuse him, couldn't bear to punish him any longer as understanding flooded her. Thomas did not seek to
use
her body; he sought
reconciliation
through his touch. Her anger and frustration melted under his tender ministrations, and truthfully, she'd thought often of his attentions throughout the day.

“
Mr. Masterson, I never left.”

“
Thomas,” he insisted.

“
Thomas,” she whispered in return.

He captured her lips, devouring her, beseeching her to abandon herself with him. As her lips opened to him, he gentled his kiss, murmuring against her mouth. “I am sorry, sweetheart. I'll walk with you every day, I promise. But I need to protect you...to keep you safe. If you became ill because I failed to...”

He couldn't finish, was unable to admit how his foolish and selfish behavior had cost his brother's health and life. Thomas loved her tenderly, holding her close as he pushed inside her body and moved within her. She gave him such pleasure, her warmth, her closeness hurtling him toward his crisis. “Evie,” he groaned, pouring his essence into her.

Stroking her silken hair, wrapped around her body securely, he savored the contentment found in her arms. He'd bedded many women, pleasure no stranger to him, but this was new. She was
his
to enjoy, his responsibility to care for and please. No returning husband to avoid, no hiding. He belonged in his bed with her, and she belonged in his life. Thomas intended to make sure she knew it well.

“
Thomas,” Evangeline spoke softly in the sweet aftermath of their coupling, “why were you worried?”

An explanation was warranted, he realized. For the first time in his life, Thomas confessed his secret shame, the woman in his arms gifting him the ability to confront his actions through her quiet comfort. “My brother became ill after catching a chill,” he answered flatly, struggling to maintain his composure. “He died a few days later.”

“
Oh, Thomas,” she comforted, her hands stroking his hair, “I remember when he died. I am so sorry.”

Thomas pulled her closer, sighing against her hair. “It was my fault. I dared him to stay outside...to jump into the pond. I was so intent on besting him, that I endangered him. I don't ever want to feel that guilt again. I'd never forgive myself, Evie, if I failed you as I failed my brother.”

The confession hung in the air, Evangeline gaining a wholly new perspective on her husband. “Thomas,” she whispered, “it is in the past. Look at me.”

He obeyed, and she kissed him tenderly.

“
It is all right,” she repeated, holding him close. “I understand now, Thomas. I understand.” Her sister's words rang in her ears. Melody had told true. Her husband desired more than her body, he sought comfort in her arms, opening his heart to her after loving her.