A faint laugh escaped her, and for the first time that morning, the heaviness in her heart lightened—if only by a fraction.
“You offered for her?”
Evander lifted his teacup with deliberate calm and took a sip, the faint clink of porcelain was the only sound in the tense dining room. Setting the cup back on its saucer, he met his father’s thunderous gaze across the gleaming table. “If you are referring to Olivia, yes. I did offer for her.”
His father’s chair scraped back an inch as he jerked upright. “Are you mad?”
“No.”
The elder man tossed the folded newssheets onto the table with a snap of his wrist. “Do you have any notion of what you have done?”
Evander reached for his fork and took his time cutting a bite of egg. “I do. I intend to marry Olivia or no one at all.”
“You cannot be serious.” His father’s nostrils flared, the veins at his temple pulsing. “Olivia is not a suitable choice for you.”
“I disagree.” Evander met his father’s stare unflinchingly. “And I believe I made it clear that the decision of whom I marry is mine alone. Not yours.”
A muscle twitched in the older man’s jaw. “You would tarnish our family’s reputation for this foolishness? Because that is precisely what will happen if you go through with this madness.”
“You exaggerate, Father.” Evander took a bite and chewed with studied patience.
“I do not,” his father snapped.
Evander set down his fork. “Olivia is the daughter of a marquess and possesses a dowry of twenty thousand pounds. Hardly a scandalous match by any rational measure.”
His father surged to his feet, his chair scraping harshly across the floor. “Yet she also eloped to Gretna Green with a woman masquerading as a man! The entiretonwhispers about her.”
“She was duped,” Evander said. “That is not a crime.”
His father threw up his hands. “No, but it is evidence of intolerable naïvety. She would make a terrible countess.”
Evander sighed inwardly. His father’s anger was no surprise. It was his standard weapon when his will was thwarted. “Father?—”
“Enough.” His father held up a commanding hand. “You will break this engagement at once. You will marry Lady Jemima. She is expecting your offer.”
“Then she will be disappointed.” Evander’s voice remained level. “Furthermore, Olivia has not yet agreed to marry me.”
“But she will.”
Evander gave a faint shrug. “I hope so. But with Olivia, nothing is guaranteed.”
His father stalked around the table, stopping close enough that Evander caught the faint scent of tobacco and brandy clinging to his coat. “I know you have always been fascinated by that girl. Take her as a mistress if you must, but not your wife.”
Evander’s entire frame went taut. “I would never dishonor Olivia in such a way. She deserves far better than that.” His gaze sharpened. “As does Mother.”
A flicker of something—guilt, perhaps—flashed in his father’s eyes. “You know not what you speak of.”
“I think I do.” Evander kept his voice low, but firm. “The entire house knows. Mother knows.”
His father took an unsteady step back, color draining from his face. “Did you tell her?”
“No,” Evander replied. “But it’s no great secret, is it? You’ve hardly been discreet.”
His father turned abruptly and walked to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. “I love your mother. But she has been… unwell for some time.”
“Please.” Evander’s voice hardened. “Do not insult us both by attempting to justify yourself.”
His father pivoted to face him. “I want you to understand.”
