Page 85 of Evie and Louis: The Story so Far

“It’s not the same, Evie, love,” he whispered. “Bedwin didn’t want me to marry your mother, partly because of the inequality of our positions. There is no denying your mother’s status in society was damaged by marrying me. That is not the case here. It’s true that I was a devil with women and hard living, but the comte goes far beyond anything I ever did. My biggest crime was being born in the workhouse. I was a gambler and libertine, yes, but I worked hard for what I have. Honest work.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, breathing hard. Her fingers gripped the edges of the chair so tightly it was painful.

“I have done some investigating these past months. I sent men to France to see what they could discover about the comte, which, to begin with, was very little apart from the obvious. Though I must tell you now, I have known for some time that Villen and his brother made the money to finance their club as jewel thieves, breaking into people’s houses to relieve them of their valuables. They told me that themselves some years ago.”

Evie’s eyes grew wide, and she remembered then how easily Louis had climbed into her bedroom to deliver her birthday present. Oh.

“Rouge et Noir is an exclusive club where dukes and princes may mingle freely with artists and bohemian types—if they can afford it. There is a deal of mystery about what else goes on there, however. So much so that it cannot be anything good, but that is a minor point. If it were only the club and the stealing, perhaps I could turn a blind eye, but it is not.”

He paused, watching her reaction and Evie forced herself to wait when she wanted to demand what more he had found out that was so very damning.

“The Comte de Villen has a half-brother, as we all know, but there is another man closely associated with him. They are not of the same blood, but consider themselves family from what we could gather.” He paused, his expression one of sympathy. “Why do you think it was so hard to gain this information, Evie?”

“Because there is nothing to discover, perhaps?” Evie countered, knowing that was not it but feeling the need to defend Louis, even though she suspected that everything she had feared about a future with him was true, and far worse than she’d imagined.

“Because everyone is too damned terrified to speak about him, because Wulfric de Vere is the king of the Parisian underworld and the comte’s protégé. So who do you think put him there?”

Evie swallowed, hearing the words but not making sense of them. “Underworld?” she repeated, imagining Hades and pomegranate seeds before scolding herself for being fanciful. Except she could too easily imagine Louis as Hades, a wickedly beautiful god, tempting her, daring her to live in the darkness with him.

“Yes, the underworld. Criminals, love. Every vice, every wicked thing that happens in that city happens under the watchful gaze of Le Loup Noir de Paris. The Black Wolf, they call him, and he answers only to the comte.”

The room felt hazy and unreal, her painful grip on the chair the only thing anchoring Evie to reality. “So this Wolf person is a criminal, that does not mean—”

“Yes. It does,” her father said, his voice implacable. “And God knows I did some things in my time, love, but I was never a criminal, and I certainly never took a man’s life.”

Evie gasped, looking up. No. No, not Louis. Not gentle, kind, Louis. She would not believe it. Evie shook her head, her throat too tight to deny the words, to defend Louis as she wanted to.

Her father crouched down before her and carefully released her hands from the chair, rubbing them gently between his own.

“I’m so sorry, my darling girl. I would never willingly hurt you, or cause you a moment’s distress, but I must protect you from making a mistake you might regret for the rest of your days. He is beautiful, and he has been kind to you. Believe me, I understand all too well why he is drawn to you, too. Your sweetness and innocence fascinates him. When one has led a life in the darkness, one does long for the light, and that is you, love. Understand me when I tell you, I do not believe he is evil or malicious, but I do believe his life is one of darkness and danger. He will drag you into that world, Evie, even if he does not mean to, and that is not what you want. That will not make you happy.”

Evie could only swallow, too numb with shock to react at all.

“We all know what kind of life you have dreamed of, for you’ve told us often enough. You want a quiet life surrounded by people who love you, your friends and family. A loving home and a large family and everything safe and familiar. It is what you have always wanted, is it not?”

Evie nodded, unable to deny it. She did not wish to deny it, for that was exactly the life she had dreamed of.

Her father held her gaze. “He cannot give you that. Perhaps he wishes to, perhaps he even believes he can, but he has blood on his hands, love, and that leaves a stain a man cannot wash away.”

“B-Blood?” Evie repeated, wondering if she might be sick.

Her father nodded. “I do not tell you this to frighten you, love. You know you are safe here, that I will always protect you no matter what?”

Jerkily, Evie nodded.

“From what I can discover, he has been implicated in the deaths of three men, one of them de Vere’s father. Perhaps he had good reason, Evie, but it does not change the fact that he has killed, more than once. Any witnesses to these crimes were too afraid to speak out against them, but there seems little doubt Villen was responsible. Certainly my men discovered enough to convince them the Comte de Villen is a very dangerous man.”

Evie’s breath came in odd little gasps as she tried to reconcile the man he described with her Louis. She ought to be appalled, she told herself. She ought to be terrified, yet the voice in her head only told her that if Louis had truly killed someone, he would have had a reason. Perhaps he’d had no choice, perhaps he’d been defending himself, but even if that were not the case, she knew she would not condemn him. Evie knew him, she knew his heart. Whilst she had always known there was darkness lurking there, for she had sensed it from the start, she knew too that he would protect her from it. She was safe with him. Perhaps others were not, but she was. Not that she would ever say those words to her father, no matter how she wished to defend Louis.

Evie could see the fear and worry in her papa’s eyes, the desperate desire to keep her safe, and she understood why he did what he did. She knew he would never understand that she was safe with Louis, no matter what. Though it broke her heart, she knew too that he would never let her marry Louis, even if she decided she wished to, and she could not marry without her parents’ approval, for that would hurt them so badly. Tears swam in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” her father said, and his voice was unsteady now. “Truly, I would cut my own heart out before I would cause you pain, but a little pain now is surely better than living a life that would not only make you unhappy, but might even put you in danger? Evie?”

He looked so wretched and full of regret for having hurt her that she could not be angry with him. He was only doing his best to keep her safe, even if the results were going to be unbearable.

She nodded again, for what else could she do? She had no words to explain the truth, even if the tightness in her throat would let her speak them. If she tried, she would weep and that would only break Papa’s heart a little further and he was carrying guilt enough as it was. He would never see Louis as she saw him, and she would certainly never convince Papa they were only friends after what had happened at Fort William. It would be a lie, and Evie had never been able to lie successfully, not that she’d ever needed or wanted to before. But if she could not get away with a little fib about how much she’d spent on books, a lie about Louis being only a friend was quite beyond her, because it was no longer true.

“You will not speak to him anymore, Evie. I am not asking you to cut him in public. You will, of course, be polite if he approaches you, but you will not seek him out, you will not converse with him, or dance with him. You will not encourage this friendship. For his sake, as much as your own, you must do everything to put an end to any further interaction, or I will do so myself. If I must take you away again, I will do it. Please, don’t make me do that, love.”