The School for Brides (36 page)

Read The School for Brides Online

Authors: Cheryl Ann Smith

BOOK: The School for Brides
10.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
The duchess shook her head and indicated the chair. “Please sit down, Miss Winfield. There is no need to flee.”
A desperate pull to escape weighed on Eva for a long moment before she reluctantly sat.
“It was not my intention to embarrass you, Miss Winfield. However, I do like to speak frankly.”
Frankly? The duchess was brutally honest. “Lady Seymour suffers from the same condition,” Eva said, defeated.
A smile broke across the duchess’s face. “I have discovered that Lady Seymour, Noelle, has very strong opinions. I admire her for that.” She leaned forward on the settee and encompassed Eva with her full stare. “I wish for us to talk freely and honestly, Miss Winfield. I realize you are very important to my son, and I understand your reasons for refusing him. What I want to know are your feelings for him.”
Dejected and embarrassed, Eva knew she had little left to lose, so she would give Her Grace what she wanted, and take her punishment. She sighed. “I love him.”
“I see.” There was a long pause. When Eva lifted her eyes, the duchess was peering intently into her face, her expression unreadable.
Eva swallowed. “I realize my feelings are foolish. I assure you I have no aspirations regarding His Grace. I have told him I will not marry him. The problems between us are insurmountable.”
The duchess stood without comment. She walked to the window. Mottled patches of sunlight danced around the walls and floor as it filtered through a tall elm. For all she’d just learned, her face was surprisingly serene.
“Fortunately, my son and I are of the same mind in regard to you.” She tapped her fingertips on her crossed arms. “I think you and he are a fine match. If only we can convince you to accept his suit, you will give my son the love he deserves.”
Eva uttered a surprised sound, and the duchess turned back to her. Had she heard correctly? “I don’t understand, Your Grace.”
“Then let me explain, Miss Winfield.” The duchess fingered the drape. “When I was young, I fell in love with a bounder, a rake, though my parents warned me his intentions were dishonorable. He was a duke, I had no dowry, and my family teetered on the edge of poverty. They eventually relented and allowed me to wed him, in exchange for a large settlement from His Grace.” Her eyes shadowed. “I quickly discovered he was everything I’d heard, and more. He was a despicable scoundrel.”
She returned to the settee. “I lived twenty-two miserable years with that man. When he died, it was as if darkness had been lifted from my heart.” Her Grace smiled tightly and apologetically. “I suppose it is awful to say so.”
“We agreed to be honest,” Eva said with a wicked glint in her eyes. It was impossible not to like the duchess and feel sympathy for her years of living in an unhappy and loveless marriage. Many women did so for financial security.
Her Grace laughed brightly. “I do like you, Miss Winfield. You are just the sort of woman to keep my son on his toes.” She leaned an elbow on the armrest. “All I have ever wanted for Nicholas was that he not make the mistakes of his parents. I want him to have love and laughter in his life.” She paused. “Still, as I’m sure you have discovered, he has much of his father in him. Both could be hard men when crossed. Yet, he is not, and could never be, Charles. He just doesn’t know how to let his father’s ghost rest and accept that he is capable of love. I think that between the two of us, we can teach him the error of his ways.”
Eva sobered. “He is a good man,” she admitted. It had taken her some time to see that beneath his gruffness was a caring heart. And then there was the fact that he’d risked his life for her. “I’m certain your son and my sister have informed you of my circumstances and about my mother,” Eva said. “No, please don’t deny it, Your Grace. Noelle is set to match us, and of course she’d include you in her plot. How could you know the details of my life otherwise?”
A slight nod confirmed her suspicions. Somehow, somewhere, the two women had conspired against her.
“I appreciate your kind words, Your Grace, and your acceptance of me as a potential daughter-in-law. I know having your son involved with a courtesan’s daughter is not an ideal situation, and I have my mother to think of. Between the two, the wall is too high to climb over. I beg you to accept my refusal and convince His Grace it is for the best that we part now, before the truth of our relationship is discovered by the Ton.”
 
 
E
va quickly excused herself and left the manor with a heavy heart. Her Grace was a fine lady and cared very much for Nicholas. She felt like she’d wronged them both. Still, if she had to be stubborn, so be it. In time, Nicholas would find a satisfactory wife, and soon enough his mother would have grandchildren to love.
She walked along the weedy path in the expansive garden for some time, with no particular destination in mind. She eventually stumbled upon a narrow bench near a row of trellises, and sat with her thoughts.
Not a quarter of an hour later she heard the rush of feet behind the trellises, and the sound of soft feminine sobs. The trellises kept Eva from discovering the identity of the distraught woman. She had readied herself to sneak away when the sound of heavy boots crashed through the underbrush as a second person strode up to join the first.
“Margaret, please,” Harold’s voice called out, low and pleading. “You must allow me to explain.”
Eva froze on the bench.
“You lied to me, to all of us,” Margaret said between hiccups and sniffles. “I thought you cared, Harold. How could I have been so foolish?”
Harold moved closer. Eva closed her hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing. If she ran off now, she’d draw attention to herself. She had to remain still and hope they would walk away. This was a private conversation. She had no business spying.
Still, she had to admit she was curious. Margaret and Harold? All sorts of questions filled her mind. When had their bond begun? How far had it taken them? Were they lovers?
“You were not foolish. I didn’t intend to fall in love with you, Meg.” He expelled a harsh breath. “I was a groom. You are a lady from a well-connected family. I never expected we would be friends, and certainly not anything more.”
“But you were not a groom,” Margaret protested, her voice rising. “You are a baron. You kept the truth from me.”
“Would it have mattered? Do you think your mother would allow an impoverished baron to wed you?” Harold sounded anguished and his words were dejected.
Eva couldn’t believe her stoic servant had fallen in love with her shy sister, and she hadn’t seen a hint of the truth in either of them. Would the secrets ever end?
She pursed her lips to keep silent.
“You think I would wed you now, even if you had the fortune of a king?” Margaret sniffed. “You are not the man I thought you were, Your Lordship. You were part of Mother’s plot to ruin Eva and her mother. I no longer know you.”
“You know my reasons, and they were not so unlike yours. You also wished the worst for Eva before you knew her,” he said gruffly, and moved closer to the trellises. Eva could see his blue coat through the latticework. She prayed he wouldn’t look behind him and discover her eavesdropping. “I have refused to take money from Lady Seymour. I cannot betray Eva and Charlotte. Or you.”
“Yet, you did betray me,” Margaret said bitterly. “I loved you.”
Harold stepped forward. Eva caught a glimpse of a faded frock. He stood close enough to reach for Margaret. This conversation certainly explained why Abigail-Margaret had fled the room when he confessed his identity and ownership of the manor. For once, it hadn’t anything to do with Eva. He wasn’t the groom Margaret loved. What an unwelcome discovery!
“Don’t touch me,” Margaret begged, stepping backward. “Don’t ever touch me again.” A sob cut off their conversation, and she fled toward the manor house.
Eva resisted the urge to go after her and commiserate over their shared betrayal by Harold. He’d lied to Margaret and had given Eva such trouble over the duke; he should be taken to task by both sisters. He deserved to suffer for his love as she had suffered for hers.
She smiled brightly and wanted to laugh. Her diminutive sister had taken down her bear of a servant with her love.
Eva must have made a sound that betrayed her presence. In the next moment, Harold was standing before her. She looked up with laughing eyes. Harold appeared ruffled and beaten.
“How much did you hear?” he said, his eyes accusing. Deep lines cut across his hard face. He
was
miserable.
“All of it.” She beamed, and didn’t bother hiding her satisfaction. “In all fairness, I was here first.”
He snapped off a twig from the dormant rose bush and broke it into several small pieces before tossing it away. His wide shoulders slumped forward. “I have made a mess of my life. I never wanted to love her, Eva, you have to believe that.”
Eva put a finger to her lips and looked him over. “I never imagined you falling in love or that you were capable of such a strong emotion. You were positively awful to me over my feelings for His Grace. I thought you were completely heartless.”
Harold took a seat beside her. “Our situations are very different. I didn’t take Meg’s innocence.”
“Perhaps you should have. She’d have been forced to marry you then,” she teased. Eva tried to imagine her strongwilled servant wed to sweet, shy Margaret. Still, the young woman had rattled him to his core. Perhaps the match wasn’t so impossible to imagine.
“I think you should take Lady Seymour’s money,” Eva continued. “That witch deserves to have her accounts lightened. I’ll help you with an outlandish tale to tell her about Mother and me. She’ll eagerly pay you then.” She looked around the garden. “Then you can hire someone to find the grass beneath these weeds and paint the trim on the manor house. The mildewed carpets and drapes require a good airing out and cleaning, and the settees need new upholstery. If you want to marry my sister and give her a good life, you must have a house befitting her station.”
Looking at her sidelong, Harold lifted a brow. “Margaret will not have me. She would rather wed a toad.”
“Nonsense.” Eva waved off his argument. From the emotion she’d heard in her sister’s voice, she knew that Margaret just needed a little push to forgive Harold. “Do something outrageously romantic. She will be unable to refuse you.”
 
Y
vette proved more resilient than anyone expected. After a day and a half of rest, she joined them in the parlor for tea. Her face was weary, and dark smudges tinged the skin beneath her eyes. Otherwise, she was fit. Eva and the other women did their best to lift her spirits, and she rewarded them with an occasional weak smile.
She refused to speak about the earl or her time in captivity, and they respected her privacy. Yvette insisted that she be included in the upcoming party for the potential husbands and thanked everyone for saving her life.
An investigation had been launched to find the killer of the earl, and there were rumors about a mysterious woman, a fight, and a robbery, but no one at the abbey had actually seen anything useful. The Bow Street Runners were rumored to be leaning toward a robbery turned deadly.
“Do you think Yvette will ever be truly happy again?” Eva quietly asked Harold. Several times she’d seen Yvette look out the window when she thought no one was watching, and there was intense sadness in her face.
“It will take time, but she is strong,” Harold said. He stared at Margaret, who refused to look at or speak to him. “She has suffered through much in her life. I think she is looking forward to a new start. I overheard her telling Rose so.”
Eva nodded slowly and smiled warily. “And what of Margaret? Have you come up with a way to turn her heart around?” She’d spoken to Noelle, and Noelle was just as surprised as she had been to discover Margaret had had a secret romance with Harold. Noelle knew they were friends, but no more. “I have seen the glances she sends your way. I know she loves you.”
Harold gave her a sharp, hopeful stare. Eva shrugged. “We women often see things with our hearts that men do not.”
He expelled a breath. “Then perhaps you can advise me how to woo and win her hand. I cannot come up with a single idea of a grand romantic gesture.”

Other books

Lucid by A.K. Harris
Blaze of Glory by Mandy M. Roth, Rory Michaels
The Frankenstein Murders by Kathlyn Bradshaw
How to Curse in Hieroglyphics by Lesley Livingston
Touching Smoke by Phoenix, Airicka
Breathe Me by Alexia Purdy
The Hollow by Agatha Christie