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Chapter 14
That afternoon, Matilda, the only female servant in the house, helped Evie dress and made an intricate coiffure, all the while chattering about how happy she was to finally have a mistress in this house of debauchery. How glad she was that she didn’t have to feed another of her master’s arrogant lovers and how she was hoping against hope for a friendly yet efficient household staff. Evie sat silently, afraid to build up too much hope for the friendly cook. Things were too uncertain between her and Gabriel.
Evie wore one of her better gowns and came downstairs to meet her husband, who was pacing like a caged tiger. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her and stared at her for several seconds, giving her an appraising look.
“You look beautiful,” he finally said.
Evie smiled brightly at him. He reciprocated with his boyish grin, not the one he used for theton,but the one he used in his moments of unguarded happiness. The one that made him twenty times more attractive to her.
“You too,” she said, coming down the stairs.
“Are you ready?” He offered his arm, and she took it.
“No,” she said on an exhale. “But the quicker we deal with it, the better everything will be.”
“I hope so.” He gave her a gentle look before moving toward the waiting carriage.
It took them about thirty minutes to get to the Somerset townhouse. Evie knew she’d find her guardian there unless he’d emptied this house the same way he had her Carlisle estate. She couldn’t fathom what damage he could have done to the place while she was away.
The journey seemed extremely long and yet not nearly long enough for Evie at the same time. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before extending her hand toward Gabriel, who was helping her out of the carriage.
“Everything will be all right,” he whispered close to her ear as she took his arm, and they moved toward the beautiful townhouse she’d once called her home.
An elderly butler she did not know answered the door and ordered them to wait for his lordship in one of the drawing rooms. Evie looked about the familiar room, a lump forming in her throat. Everything was achingly dear to her and yet completely foreign at the same time. The scents were different; the energy in the room was cold as if it hadn’t been used in a long while.
Evie remembered sitting on the windowsill, reading her books behind the curtains, how her grandfather would charge into the room looking for her. How they laughed together, having warm conversations by the hearth. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts.
“Welcome back home.”
She whirled around and saw the thin, ramrod-straight figure of Lady Montbrook. Evie’s heavyset cousin, Lord Montbrook, stood a few feet behind her in the doorway.
“Please, sit down.” Lady Montbrook gestured toward the sitting area in the middle of the room.
Evie swallowed hard. Seeing her cousins after everything that happened sent her blood boiling.
Evie felt a supportive hand land solidly at the small of her back. “Are you all right?” Gabriel lowered his head toward her as he whispered the question.
Evie nodded and moved toward the sofa. Gabriel sat beside her, snaking his arm around her waist. Lady Montbrook looked them over with narrowed eyes before lowering herself in the chair across from them.
Lord Montbrook settled nearby. “When I received the note from your solicitor and his subsequent arrival, I didn’t believe my own eyes and ears,” he said, looking at them suspiciously. “You truly are married.”
“We are,” Gabriel answered firmly.
“Evie, dear, you didn’t have to elope. If you truly wanted to marry this—this libertine—all you had to do was ask. We would have protested, naturally, but we only want what’s best for you,” Lady Montbrook said.
“Do you?” Evie’s nostrils flared at this fake show of solicitude. “That’s not what I heard you telling your son.”
“Whatever you think you heard, you must be mistaken. Surely our prospects couldn’t have been worse thanhim?”
The show of contempt toward Gabriel sent Evie grinding her teeth. “Nobody could have been better than him,” she said vehemently.
“I heard your finances struggled, St. Clare,” Lady Montbrook addressed Evie’s husband for the first time. “But I didn’t think you were that desperate.”
Evie’s nostrils flared at the insinuation. Of course, it was true, but stating it in such a way, as if there was no other reason Gabriel would ever marry her, ignited her temper. Gabriel squeezed her waist gently and took her right hand in his free one.
Lady Montbrook followed the action with her gaze. “Surely you could find some other way out of your predicament.”
“I could,” Gabriel agreed readily. “But none more pleasant.”
