An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady (16 page)

BOOK: An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady
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“To meet whom?” Brahm asked, lifting a thick dark brow, his suspicion clear.

Evelyn hesitated, her mind spinning, not certain who would seem plausible to meet here.

“Well, not meet someone,” she hedged as her minded raced. “I was to deliver money to the man that’s been blackmailing me,” she blurted and cringed at her ridiculous lie.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked dumbstruck.

“I’m being blackmailed,” she stated clearly, straightening her back, but not before she saw Jo’s mouth fall open. If the situation didn’t call for superb acting she would’ve laughed at the shock and disbelief playing across their features.

“Why would anyone blackmail a lady?” Brahm asked, his anger all but forgotten.

“Well, you see... because I... because there...in the darkness…in a garden... me... did I mention it was dark?” she trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t make her spell out what her little scene brought to mind, but by the dawning expression on his face he certainly got the picture.

“Who is the bastard?” Brahm boomed, his anger returning tenfold.

Evelyn had nearly jumped out of her skin, but really, what had she expected? This was Brahm, his emotions always came out in extremes.

“Uh, I would rather not reveal his identity,” she said hesitantly, aware Jo stifled a laugh. Evelyn shot her a glare.

“You will tell me his name, Lady Evelyn.”

When Evelyn didn’t answer he boomed, “Now!”

“The Earl of Grey,” she muttered.

The name rolled off her tongue without a moment of hesitancy. Perhaps if she had thought about it, she might’ve realized it was an exceedingly bad idea, since it became clear he would run straight to her brother. Wesley would’ve have been a safer bet. Matthew on the other hand would know she’d lied and demand the reason for being found in White Chapel. Was it possible part of her wanted him to find out?

“Son of a bitch,” Brahm bellowed, once more causing both girls to jump.

The best she could hope for was that the Marquis escort her home and pray her brother was off sampling the busty charms of some widow. But even so, Evelyn doubted Brahm would leave the matter before her brother was apprised of her wrong doing.

He gave her a long look. “Why didn’t you go to your brother?”

How very male of him to ask.

Evelyn shrugged. “If I paid the blackmailer then my brother would never be the wiser.”

His face darkened even more.

“Did you not even consider the possibility that the blackmailer would never stop blackmailing you and would get more daring over time?”

“I considered that,” Evelyn lied with a nod. “However, since I’m not used to being blackmailed I’ve no clue what to do except react to the immediate threat.”

“This is exactly why women your age should be married.”

Heat flared in her cheeks at his matter of a fact comment. “Now you’re just being rude.”

“Wait a minute,” Jo intervened, the amusement gone from her face. “We have as much right to stay unmarried as you.”

Brahm snorted. “Rights, Josephine?” he sneered. “No woman has any, and just as well, seeing as you’ve yet again proved the stupidity of your species by being caught in this neighborhood be-cause you didn’t know any better than to take this situation to the head of your family.”

“Stupidity?” Josephine shouted at her brother. “We didn’t take it up with you or Westfield yes, but the real question you should ask is why we never took it up with you in the first place!”

Brahm clenched his teeth, “Enlighten me.”

“You’d have gone all brutish and beat your chest like a mindless ape and locked us away until the situation was resolved, like some nitwit ninnies who cannot fend for themselves.”

“You can’t fend for yourselves!” Brahm shouted back. “Have you taken a look around these streets? Have you even considered that the blackmailer may have planned to kidnap or murder you?”

“Yes Brahm,” Jo said snippily. “The blackmailer would kidnap or kill his source of income. Do you listen to your way of reasoning? I’m not some mindless nitwit who cannot assess dangerous situations. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I joined this endeavor.”

Evelyn had a distinct impression their conversation wasn’t about her anymore.

“So you freely admit you are aware of the danger and you still continue to venture on, consequences be damned?”

“I...” He had her there. Brute. “There may be times, like now, but only because we could resolve this issue without incident.”

Brahm lifted an infuriating brow. “Without incident you say. Well we will see what Westfield has to say about this little incident, won’t we?”

He motioned them to his carriage standing down the street. Drat. They should have noticed it when they exited the building. Obviously they needed to work on their attention to detail.

Evelyn groaned. Her brother didn’t know about her indiscretion, only that Matthew had singled her out and was now courting her. If he believed her to be compromised he might throw all his weight behind the courtship. And if Matthew somehow received word about this little meeting, he would not only watch her like a hawk but be determined to find out what they were up to. Perhaps it might work in their favor, and they would need favor if they were to succeed in their plans to kidnap Madeleine Loveday.

 

 

Chapter 14

Her brother’s study had always been a place of solitude for Evelyn. Sometimes she would read in the very chair she sat in now while he worked on his accounts. Other times she would enjoy a glass of brandy in secret, when he was off at his club. Today however, no solitude was to be enjoyed. She sat, arms folded in her lap, with not one, not two, but three glinting pairs of eyes glaring her way.

They had yet to say a word after Warton shouted his tale of finding them in White Chapel, and after which he promptly stormed out. Apparently the mere sight of Matthew was enough to set his anger to biblical proportions, and his booming voice travelled through the halls of her home moments after they arrived, together with flailing arms and stomping steps.

How unfortunate that her bother wasn’t the only witness to her being dragged home, but St. Aldwyn and Matthew as well. Their shock at the sight of the Marquis of Warton in front of them all, shouting like a madman, waving his arms about before storming out, had been quite comical. For the briefest of moments, when they all stood in the hallway in stunned silence, Evelyn thought mayhem would break loose. Unfortunate really. She could have slipped away amidst the turmoil.

Now she sat, in her place of usual solitude, waiting for the confrontation that would soon follow.  Her eyes shifted to lock with the heated gaze of Matthew and her breath hitched. Those brilliant green eyes were alight with anger and passion. She imagined his mind mulling over every detail, no matter how small. He would either accept her ridiculous tale of blackmail as truth, but for another reason, or he knew her story was hogwash and another purpose existed for them venturing into that part of London. Either way, no conclusion would be a good one.

But all was not lost. Now that she had their undivided attention it placed her in a unique position to help her friend, even herself.

That she would go to such lengths to concoct a ridiculous lie, meant she wasn’t about to divulge the real reason for their journey into White Chapel. It was why, in Evelyn’s estimation, they thought to stare her down without as much as a word. They meant to intimidate her. She did not intimidate so easily.

Her brother’s voice was the first to pierce the silence. 

“Do you mind telling me what you were thinking wandering about in White Chapel, with only Lady Josephine as an escort?” 

Evelyn wondered what they would do if they knew about the others. This tedious attempt at extracting information would have been much more vigorous, to be sure. She would however give her brother points for effort.

“Now that I think on it Simon, I’m not certain what I was thinking wandering about only escorted by Lady Josephine,” she said with a shrug.

Simon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Evelyn! This is a serious matter!”

“I am aware of that,” Evelyn said, and then raked a glance over Matthew and St. Aldwyn, “But shouldn’t we be discussing this in private.”

Matthew, who’d been silent up till then, stirred. Their eyes locked, keeping her immobile.

“Under any other circumstance this discussion would be been between you and your brother, your legal guardian, at the moment.”

At the moment?

“However,” Matthew continued, “since I am the reason you’re being blackmailed, I have every right to be part of this discussion.”

Evelyn didn’t miss the edge to his voice.

“I lied, as you are well aware,” she admitted, glaring at him when he only lifted an arrogant brow.

“You lied about being blackmailed?” Simon asked in disbelief.

Oh for heaven’s sake! He’d actually believed her ridiculous lie? Of course he did, he was her brother.

“Well, yes,” Evelyn said flippantly. She didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but she’d had just about enough male interference in her life. “I lied about it being Lord Grey in the garden with me.”

She smothered a bubble of laughter when their expressions turned comical. Neither Simon nor Matthew had expected that. When their expression turned blank, so effectively removing any emotions from their features, Evelyn had this ridiculous thought of them gathering in secret, learning how to school their expressions, which was obviously meant to intimidate. St. Aldwyn’s eyes on the other hand, held a sparkle of mischief. He understood she was having sport with them.

“And who, dear sister, is this man you were alone with?” Simon asked in a furious whisper, and every word would have felt like a lash against her skin, if she hadn’t been having so much fun.

“Well, let’s see—”

“And don’t you dare lie about this, Evelyn,” Matthew interrupted.

Was she mad to shiver at the rough timbre in his unmistakably mad voice?

“Fine, if you must know, there was no man in the garden and there was no blackmailer.”

At their narrow regard, Evelyn probably should have felt a pinch of nervousness but it would seem her self-preservation had evaporated. She knew Simon well enough to know he wouldn’t demand the truth from her, because he knew her well enough to know that she would never tell, no matter how much he ranted.

“Why the hell would you lie to us?” her broker asked.

“To protect her troublemaking friend no doubt,” St. Aldwyn said as he straightened, alert now. “Lady Josephine didn’t escort your sister, Westfield, Lady Evelyn escorted her.”

Evelyn shrugged, deciding they could figure it out on their own. At the very least it would keep them distracted from their plan to kidnap Madeleine Loveday. Evelyn inwardly smiled. This couldn’t have worked better if she’d planned it!

 

Matthew stared at the vexing little trouble-maker sitting in her chair like she owned the damn world. Turmoil raged within him though he kept his expression blank. How she came up with these unbelievably ridiculous stories was beyond him. In fact, it was as ridiculous as the one she’d conjured of him being a villain.

He understood the need to protect a friend, that was admirable, if not stupidity, but what did she gain by provoking them into indignation? Or was this a ploy to distract them? The thing about Evelyn, to his utter frustration, you never truly knew whether it was just another elaborate story or whether her stories held some truth.

What would she be distracting them from? The thought jumped into his head and wouldn’t leave. It seemed to bounce back and forth in the edges of his mind. The key to what they were doing in White Chapel seemed to lie in that one single thought.

He hated being lied to, especially by her. Yet she seemed to revel in it. He’d told her once before to never lie to him. She hadn’t taken him seriously. And while it was a bad habit of hers to creep around in the dark with strangers, she wasn’t being blackmailed for it.

If she wanted his attention, she needn’t have bothered, she had it. Always.

“Well, a venture into White Chapel must have been exhausting,” Matthew began dryly, “what with having to lurk about and all that. Wouldn’t you agree, Westfield?” he gave Westfield a knowing smile. “Some rest for a few days wouldn’t be amiss, or until she decides to speak the truth.”

He smiled when her lips parted in a gasp and her eyes widened in pique. Fate had picked him the most stubborn, defiant wench on the planet. He would thank fate later.

“I will not be sent to my room like a child!” she steamed.

“You will enlighten us to the truth then?”

Evelyn wanted to stick out her tongue in a childish display of defiance, but refrained. Did he expect she would be so easily maneuvered into telling the truth? Men were so pigheaded. But he would learn soon enough that when she put her mind to something, she could be as pigheaded as any man.

“You cannot be considering this?” she asked her brother, gesturing wildly toward Matthew.

Her eyes sparked in anger.

Simon straightened. “His idea holds merit, sis.”

“Beg your pardon?” Evelyn jumped from her chair, glaring at her brother. “You would take his advice into consideration? You are my brother and this is my home, not a prison!”

“True,” Simon nodded as if he agreed with her, “but your behavior of late has been uncharacteristic and at times inappropriate. I let it go, mostly because I assumed it to be one of your silly woman phases, but it ends now.”

Evelyn stared at her brother, her eyes wide in horror.
Some silly woman phase?
The words of that blow crushed her. It was no secret of man’s belief that women were silly and dependent, but never had she viewed her brother as a man that held the same belief. Had it been naïve of her to presume his opinion would be any different from that of any other man.

Through her haze of horror she saw her brother reach for her but it was too late, the betrayal of his words stung deep. There were some things that once said, could never be taken back.

“I can’t believe you said that,” Evelyn whispered, betrayal evident in her voice.

“Evelyn, I—”

She lifted her hand for him to stop, “Silly woman phase, Simon?”

He flinched at the hurtful note in her voice. Good.

“I suppose I should thank you for reminding me that I will never have the opportunity to live my life the way I see fit if I am under the control of a man.”

She looked over to Matthew. “I will never marry you or any other man and if you push, I will push back, harder. I will never give up my freedom, not for you, not for any man, not for any reason.” Evelyn paused, tears stinging her eyes. “I have given you a chance to persuade me otherwise and my brother has reminded me why you would always fail.”

With that she exited the room, slamming the door shut, aware the men watched her departure from the room, head held high.

“That went well,” Simon said on a heavy sigh as he sat down behind his desk.

St. Aldwyn snorted.

Matthew gave him a knowing glance. “If that went well I would hate to be here when it does not.”

He didn’t say that his friend had made things infinitely more difficult for him with his careless words. Matthew had seen the look in Evelyn’s eyes before she’d walked out. Stubbornness he could handle. He could even deal with her anger, but the betrayal and disappointment in those violet depths would not be so easily healed. He was defenseless against her argument because she was right. She would never live her life as she saw fit if she married him, he would hold all reins to her life. It also became undeniably clear that her reservations ran deeper than first imagined. She would now adamantly refuse any of his advances, believing they viewed her as some silly chit, like the rest of her species. Damn Westfield and his careless mouth.

“She will be wary of you now,” Simon confirmed, staring at the ceiling, deep in thought, ignoring his statement.

“I am undoubtedly certain they are up to their necks in something they shouldn’t be,” St. Aldwyn murmured.

Matthew nodded. He’d already surmised as much. “You may be right. We will have to keep an eye on all of them if we want to determine what the hell is going on.”

“I agree. There are three of them and three of us. It shouldn’t be too difficult to keep track of their actions,” Simon commented.

Matthew’s lip curled at what was not said. St. Aldwyn would make up their party of three. He glanced at the man who now leaned against the wall, deep in thought as he stared out the window. He hadn’t interfered much in the confrontation, but he had stayed. Matthew didn’t know why, but he had the distinct impression that St. Aldwyn only stayed because Evelyn had been found with Lady Josephine, and even though he hated involving him, he admitted that they did need his help.

He had a bad feeling that whatever Evelyn was involved in, it was dangerous.

“Well that settles it,” Matthew said, grudgingly rising to his feet, too engrossed in his disgust to notice the smile that formed on Westfield’s face. He didn’t know it but things couldn’t have worked out better for Westfield. He had almost lost hope that his two sparring friends would never let go of the past, but he had a feeling that working together toward the same goal would be just the medicine these reluctant friends needed to let go of their hatred toward each other. Westfield doubted it was hatred though, but rather pure stubbornness that kept them at each other’s throats. It would not be easy to get them to work together in peace, but it seemed they were tolerating each other’s presence readily enough. He just hoped it didn’t backfire.

 

Later that day Evelyn lay propped up on her bed listening for the muffled sounds of her friends sneaking down the hallway. She was still furious with her brother even though he had every reason to be angry with her. Still it did not excuse the fact that he implied she had silly phases.

Years ago she’d entertained silly dreams of finding a love that lasted through eternity, a love that didn’t wither or die, a love beyond the scope of what man could imagine. But love didn’t come in one big grand package. It, like all other things, was exactly what you made of it. She loved her brother, but right now she wasn’t making much of her love for him. She was angry and well, a bit fearful.

Fear had her questioning her dreams. Could she be wrong? Could her dream of freedom be just that, a dream? And if a dream was but a dream and true love was but an illusion, was freedom not the biggest illusion of them all? Gah! All this reasoning and doubt gave her a pulsing ache in her head. The fact of the matter remained, Matthew wanted complete control. And he wanted her. He would not let her go without a fight. Dream or no dream, love or no love.

BOOK: An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady
7.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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