He could not admit to his aunt that hewaspleased by Olivia, and that terrified him far more than anyone banging upon his bedchamber door. How could he even begin to explain that it was because he found her so intriguing, so charming, so unexpected, so… exciting that he needed to be rid of her even quicker? It barely made sense to him.
“Daniel?” Amelia’s eyes widened. “Heavens, no.”
“Whyever not?”
“Consider Olivia’s reputation,” Amelia said, rallying a more even tone. “Now, I have not seen evidence of this, but her father deems her to be at high risk for fleeing this arrangement. It was a warning he gave me when we corresponded.”
Evan arched an eyebrow. “How does that make her any less suited to Daniel? He would adore her, he would lavish her with gifts and affection, he has no awful reputation casting a shadow over him, and he is exactly the sort of fellow who could change a voluntary spinster’s mind.”
“He is away so often,” Amelia went on. “Olivia is like an… exotic plant that will wither away if not tended to properly. Perhaps, if she were engaged to Daniel, she would endure through the wedding for duty’s sake, but once he began to leave for business again, I do not think it would be long before Olivia felt an urge to escape. We cannot have a scandal, Evan.”
“Iamthe scandal!” he protested, mulling over his aunt’s—or, rather, Olivia’s father’s—words of warning. It seemed a strange thing for a father to say about his daughter and an even stranger thing for his aunt to have accepted without hesitation.
Amelia rested her hands on her hips and sighed. “That is precisely why it must be you and why it must be her,” she insisted. “You are both dutiful, and you are both in need of one another’s company to heal the damage that has been done to your reputations.”
“So dutiful that her father would warn you?” Evan pointed out, still bemused by the remark.
Amelia shrugged. “I rarely trust the word of a father,” she admitted. “They are far less likely to know the true nature of their children, for they are not all like my Lionel.”
“I am well aware,” Evan said coolly, remembering the foolish thing he had told Olivia about learning more about someone by meeting their father. If that were true, he would have hidden himself away for good.
“Having now met Olivia, I believe her father was mistaken. If she were at risk of fleeing, she would have done so already.” Amelia’s demeanor relaxed. “She is dutiful to her mother, and there is strength in that bond. Olivia will do as her mother asks her, as I hope you will do as I have asked you. And seeing you together, I am evermore convinced that fate has had more of a hand in this than I have; it has guided my hand, at least.”
Evan could not decide how he was supposed to tell his aunt that Olivia had a much clever plan than a simple escape. It appeared that his aunt was entirely underestimating Olivia and her chosen reputation, just as he had underestimated Olivia. Indeed, he was beginning to worry that they might both have to go through with the wedding out of stubbornness, neither one willing to wave the white flag first.
Would that be such a terrible thing? Atraitorous part of his mind whispered, which was hurriedly shoved down by his resolve to never give his father the one thing he wanted most in the world: the continuation of his legacy. It was the only way Evan could punish his father for everything that wretched man had done.
“Well, all I shall say is, do not blame me if shedoesfall helplessly in love with Daniel,” Evan remarked, his scheme for making that happen still only half-formed in his head. “Now, if I may, I should like to take that nap before dinner. The lake has exhausted me.”
Amelia sighed. “And you would be able to bear the sight of her with Daniel, wouldn’t you?”
“What?” Coffee caught in Evan’s throat.
“Consider it, and I think you might find the answer surprising,” his aunt replied before making her swift departure.
Evan stared at the now-closed door, dabbing the coffee he had almost choked upon from his chin. A moment later, his aunt’s words swept into his thoughts like ghosts of the future, conjuring nebulous scenes of joyful ballrooms and cheerful dinners, where Olivia danced in Daniel’s arms and his jests were the cause of her rich laughter while Evan stood and sat alone on the periphery, watching.
Evan saw her in a summer haze, wearing that white muslin and the straw bonnet with the daisies, standing at Daniel’s side as they played skittles. He imagined her leaning into Daniel, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, trying to distract him. He pictured her kissing Daniel’s cheek and chuckling as he missed his throw, but instead of showing anger, Daniel swept her up into his arms and spun her around. A husband and wife so painfully in love that observers could not help but feel bitterly lonely.
No…his mind pleaded, his hand moving to the pocket inside his waistcoat, where he removed the slightly crushed daisy she had placed behind his ear to make him lose concentration. He did not know why he had not dropped it on the grass by the lake nor why he had brought it all the way home with him, but as he stared down at it, urging himself to dispose of it in the fireplace or the ash-bucket, he could not do it. Instead, he put it back in his pocket and swallowed uncomfortably.
He had considered his aunt’s words, and the answerwasmore surprising than expected. Somehow, without him realizing, Olivia had started to get under his skin. He needed to end it, and quickly, before she was so entrenched in his thoughts that it would hurt beyond anything he had ever suffered to rip her out.
CHAPTERNINE
The following morning, the Dowager House seemed to be under the lingering spell of the lazy afternoon by the lake. Either that or it was the lull before the storm of Amelia’s grand party.
Evan ventured to breakfast early, only to find himself alone in the breakfast room. He could not explain why, but the sight of the empty chairs disappointed him, particularly as Caroline was an early riser. He had hoped to be able to interrogate her about her discussion with Olivia in the gardens. Instead, he had to eat his toast and eggs alone, washed down with weak coffee that did nothing to alleviate the strange heaviness from his shoulders.
“Has anyone dined already?” Evan turned to ask one of the footmen, who stood ready to pour more coffee or run to the kitchens for anything anyone might desire.
The footman shook his head. “None, My Lord.”
“Not even my aunt?”
“It is my understanding that she has requested a tray in her chambers, My Lord,” the footman replied.
Evan frowned. “How peculiar.”
