“Really?”she asked with a smile at the name.Her fingers paused.’Twas lovely to hear of a titled person having empathy for those who struggled, especially a man.Too many did not.
“He had had help—from the woman he later married—with his own recovery and wanted to do the same for others.So I was helping get the remaining rooms cleaned and furnished as the first guests moved in.I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear there were lots of candidates for the program.”
“Hmm.You are correct, I’m not surprised, although I suspect there were plenty who weren’t interested in pursuing sobriety, too.”
“Possibly.I wasn’t involved in that part.But Iwaspressed into servitude.”He shuddered anew at the memory.“I have never seen the like.Grown men crying, vomiting, pissing themselves, and expecting others to coddle them and clean up after them.They acted like spoiled brats.”
Unfortunately, it didn’t shock her because she had encountered many an entitled nobleman.She nodded.
“I’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time at the pub.I’m not a stranger to piss and puke.But even the drunkest of drunks apologizes, especially if I’m trying to help them.Instead, these blokes spat out commands as to what I could do to serve them after cleaning up their mess or complained of the smell as though I was taking too long.One sat in a corner and cried for his mother.”
She almost laughed at the look of distaste he made as he said the last part.
“I don’t know how Luke does it.I nearly threw a punch more than once.At one point, a bloke started to cast up his accounts while lying down.I rolled him to the floor so he wouldn’t choke.The nob tried to get me fired for being rough with him.”He shook his head, still pissed on behalf of any working man whose word might be tested against a nob’s.“What if I hadn’t been a relation?Would Luke have believed me then?I wonder.As it is, I feel lucky; we hadn’t known each other that long.”
“He sounds like a nice man,” she ventured.
“He is, and he has the patience of a saint with those whiners.The last straw was when I walked into a pub near his home, where I was a guest.I saw one man who had cried and tried to punch me as I helped him into bed, standing there with a drink in his hand again.When I said something to him, he looked down his nose at me and asked how I thought thatmy betters’ behavior could be any of my business.”Xander threw a hand up in exacerbation and barked a bitter laugh.“He honestly thought he was better than me.”
“Seems a dangerous thing to say in such a public place.You could have referenced his terrible behavior from his time at Luke’s.”
“No, you don’t understand.That is the beauty and the ugliness of the Ton.Luke lives in a fancy part of London.So the pub was full of this nob’s cronies and peers.They’d have believed him over me, and indeed none of them wanted me in the establishment to start with.’Twas a damned pub—by definition, a public house.I had less exposure to their wives, but from what little I saw, they didn’t seem to have an original thought in their head, doing what their husbands told them.Even when their spouses were drunkards.”His voice rose with impassioned bitterness.Throwing out a hand, he finished with, “These are the ‘lords’ I’m supposed to sit next to in the House of Lords, and the ‘ladies’ I should invite into my home and worry about their opinions of where Bruce sits at my table.’Tis as ridiculous as it is annoying.”
Xander’s expression was so twisted with disdain, Evie cringed thinking of what his reaction would be to finding out she was one of those nobs.Despite her certainty that she loved him, she was glad she’d told her aunt she needed more time before Louisa should write to her parents.
Chapter Twenty-One
Xander stood at the window staring out at the morning light.He still couldn’t quite believe he’d told her about London.Just saying the words again had brought back a rush of humiliation and anger.The same feelings he experienced every time thoughts of titled nobles entered his brain.Yet, irony of ironies, here he was, a duke.
Walking back to sit at his desk, he again performed a rough calculation of when he could expect Cranbrook.Normally, living on the north edge of England had many advantages.Namely few visitors from outside the region, and even fewer from London.However, frustration at the time it took to travel anywhere or even send correspondence ate at him.Waiting for the Wayward Dukes Alliance to receive his missive and arrive was agony.He picked up his pen, but after a few taps that scattered ink across the documents in front of him, he threw it down and leaned back, looking out the library window once again.
Evie did not seem overly concerned with the inequities in their status, but he was.She should feel like an equal in all aspects of their relationship.The betrothal contract request did not feel real, but it bothered him almost as much as his title versus her employment did.It was one more puzzle he had to solve before he could marry the woman he chose.The one who was patient with him, who laughed with him, and who gave everything of herself to him.He needed Evie in his life forever.London and Lords could go hang.They could do what they wished up here, and no one would care that she’d once been a maid and he’d once been a barkeeper.
However, until he knew what it would take to politely decline the damned betrothal request, silence had to prevail so she wouldn’t be hurt.Every night as they stripped to their skin and were intimate in almost every way two people could be, he bit his tongue.The words “I love you” were in his mouth, gaze, and every caress.Hopefully, she saw what he couldn’t say.
In addition, he was eager to empower Banks to thank him for his unwavering acceptance and support as the man ran a business that Xander owned.
Bringing up London and Luke reminded him of his stepfather.The Earl of Northumberland hadn’t worried about marrying a commoner when Xander’s mother became his wife.Of course, that was a second marriage after his heir came of age, so the Ton might be more forgiving.North, however, did not care whether or not they forgave him; he did what he wanted.
Xander jotted a note to his mother and North, telling them he was thinking of a visit, and put it in the pile to be posted.
Evie entered, singing out, “Good morning.”
Her voice reminded him of his questions about her speech.“Evie, come have tea before you begin your duties.”
“Whatever you desire, my lord.”She winked at him.
He would not be distracted, however much that phrase made him want to put her on her knees under his desk to serve him from there all day.“You told me you grew up in London.But your elocution and choice of words are quite different than any of the blokes I met there.How is that?”
Her face shuttered, her gaze going to her lap for a moment before she inhaled and re-engaged.“I think people learn much of their speech and expressions from their parents.Mine were careful to keep me from slang or other regional jargon.And of course the household I spent time in most recently was quite refined.”
“I see.”He’d picked up some vernacular from the pub that he hadn’t learned at home, so he understood.“Thank you.”
“Why did you ask?Do I talk funny?”she asked with a nervous expression.
“No, not at all.But nor do you sound like anyone local or most of the people I encountered in London.”
She took a last sip of tea and stood.“Well, then.I should get back to polishing chair legs.Unless there’s something else you’d like me to polish?”
