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Adel’s eyes were gritty, and she was unable to stop yawning. She had fled from the duke to her room but had been unable to sleep. Nor was she feeling brave enough to venture downstairs. She could not marry Wolverton or Lord Vale. She’d scribbled a hasty note and entrusted it to the maid assigned to her, to be delivered to Mr. Atwood with utmost discretion. The clock outside in the hall chimed, and she glanced down at the small pocket watch that belonged to her papa. It was almost time to meet Mr. Atwood in the orangery, if he had indeed received her directions. She was resolute in the way forward—they would have to elope.
There was a knock on the door but before she answered it was opened, and in strolled Evie.
Hurt tightened Adel’s throat. She had been unable to dwell on her closest friend’s betrayal. To see the ravages of tears and torment now in Evie’s eyes did not soothe Adel in any manner. Evie deserved to feel wretched, no matter how uncharitable it seemed. Adel forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath. “I never knew the Duke of Wolverton had offered for you.”
Evie already had red eyes filled with tears. She rushed forward and Adel jerked away. Evie faltered, then clasped her hands together. “I became aware of his offer only last night,” she said hoarsely.
“And you acted with wanton selfishness. Instead of rejecting his offer, you did everything to derail my chance at happiness.”
Evie flinched. “In my fear and panic I was thoughtless, and now I must suffer the consequences of losing the affections of my dearest friend. Please forgive me.”
“No.”
She gasped, but Adel remained unmoved. “I know why you did it.”
Evie paled.
Adel clasped her fingers together at her front to stop them from trembling. “You have been in love with the Marquess of Westfall since I made your acquaintance these two years past. The prospect of marrying anyone else must have been terrifying. But did you not see that you robbed me of the same opportunity of wedding the man I held affections for? Though I rail against it, I fear deep in my heart I must marry the duke, or my family will never be able to recover from such a mess. He is so unlike Mr. Atwood, I cannot see how we will have a happy—or even a slightly happy—situation. The duke’s charms upon closer acquaintance are sorely lacking. He is severe, cold, Evie.”
But his kisses are divine. Adel ignored the traitorous reflections.
Evie’s face crumpled and silent tears streamed down her cheeks. “Westfall and Wolverton are the closest of friends.”
Adel closed her eyes. That would have been unbearable, but it could not excuse Evie’s action. Adel had trusted her friend absolutely.
Evie’s throat worked. “I could not bear to wed the duke, knowing as his duchess I would have cause to entertain his closest friend. I tried to speak to Mamma and all my pleas fell on deaf ears. I cannot imagine a world without belonging to Westfall…and I thought since you had no such similar affections for Mr. Atwood, I…”
Adel stiffened. “I would not wed a man I have no regards for!”
Evie shook her head, her green eyes pleading. “You care for Mr. Atwood, but I love Westfall. At the crest of each dawn I think of him. He is my friend, my confidant, but I also yearn to be his lover. He makes me ache, and my heart belongs to him. He kissed me once, and I still feel the press of his lips against mine, the heat of his body, and the strength of his arms.”
Heat climbed Adel’s cheek. Mr. Atwood never roused such longing in her; but surely in a few more years it would bloom? But the duke did make your blood stir. It was as if the very devil himself whispered the traitorous thoughts to her.
Evie moved farther into the room. “I own to the love I have for the marquess, but it does not excuse my behavior, Adel. I was rash and so foolish. I am not sure what I imagined would happen, but it was not this. All the guests are speaking of you being in the duke’s chamber. Mamma says by next week all of London will know, and the tattle sheets will speak of nothing else for months,” she ended on a harsh sob. “I wish I could go back in time and undo my thoughtlessness,” she said with heartbreaking sincerity.
Tears pricked behind Adel’s lid. For as long as she knew Evie, she had been in love with the marquess who mostly treated her as the younger sister of one of his closest friends. The marquess seemed like he had no thoughts of considering marriage, and Evie was not sure if it was on account of the mysterious scars that roped half of his face, or just the general contempt that seemed to leak from him whenever he mingled with polite society. Though it pained her to acknowledge, Adel was filled with relief that Evie did not have to marry Wolverton and be consigned to such a distressing situation. But Adel would not say so; the sting of the betrayal was too fresh and deep.
“Have you seen Mr. Atwood?”
Evie shook her head.
“I must go to him,” Adel said glancing on the watch. “I hope he has not heard the rumors.”
Evie exhaled softly. “Will you marry the duke?”
Did she have a choice? “If Mr. Atwood is willing to elope, I…” Adel swallowed the sob rising in her throat. “I do not know what I am feeling or thinking. Only a couple hours have passed since I entered the wrong chamber. I do not want to see my family ruined beyond all measure. If I were to elope with Mr. Atwood would that not be the outcome? Would I not be compounding the disaster? Yet I cannot imagine my life with a man I have no knowledge of, one who has said I should not entertain the notion of future love between us. One who looks at me with nothing but emptiness in his eyes? I see no admiration…only a resolve to be honorable. We are ill-suited.”
Evie gasped and sympathy filled her eyes. “I sincerely sympathize with your distress, and I am so very sorry,” she whispered.
So am I.
It took a lot of courage and ingenuity on Adel’s part to enter the orangery unseen. It was barely eight in the morning, but several guests were already up. She was grateful most were still abed, no doubt tired from the late night’s entertainment. Adel colored, remembering how she had added to their amusement.
She pushed open the glass door and espied Mr. Atwood in the far left corner. Her heart soared. Surely it was a good omen he had made the effort to meet with her. At the sound of her footsteps he spun to face her, and Adel was distressed to realize the exhilaration she normally felt at seeing him was decidedly absent. Images of the duke’s cold mien filtered through her thoughts, and she gritted her teeth until they ached. “Mr. Atwood, I am so relieved you were able to slip away. Thank you.”
He nodded stiffly, his normally smiling face stern with disapproval.
