She took his hand, feeling its warmth. “Yes, you were. But perhaps… I could forgive that. Perhaps you could be my fool.”
He smiled, raising his hand to her cheek. She leaned into it, and he brushed his thumb softly across her skin.
“I would love nothing more,” he said. “Maybe next time we could avoid all this? Skip the arguments?”
She looked up at him, amused. “As you know, I’m never averse to talking. In fact, some say I cannot stop…”
Her words were cut short as he leaned in and kissed her. She froze at first, eyes wide in surprise—but then melted into it. His lips were soft and warm, full of longing, of need. Her arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer.
And at last—finally—she let herself fall completely into his arms, into the sweetness of the kiss she’d been waiting for far too long.
CHAPTER 32
“And then he said he would be my fool from here on,” Evelyn concluded her story, and sat beaming as Annabelle, Marianne, and Charlotte sat around her. Aunt Eugenia sat in the corner, working on a piece of embroidery as she looked up.
“I told you it would be so romantic once you found your way to one another,” Charlotte said and beamed.
“Romantic, yes,” Marianne replied, “but so unnecessarily complicated. Could you not have simply told one another how you felt long ago and avoided all of this?”
“I don’t know,” Annabelle said. “I think it is rather romantic how they found their way to one another through all of this… other people. It shows that their love was true.”
“I have to agree with Marianne,” Evelyn said. “It was rather foolish that we did not simply speak to one another. But at leastI’m glad I understand now why he acted the way he did. His uncle made him feel unworthy. And then Halston showed up and reminded him of everything he thought he had left behind. It’s no wonder he retreated. And then there was our foolish argument… and I misunderstood him. I’m so glad it is finally over. The future is going to be much brighter,” she declared.
“I am glad to see my positive Evelyn back,” Aunt Eugenia said, “but there remains one thing that is unresolved, is there not?”
“Oh, Eugenia, and what is that?” She knew exactly what her aunt was going to say, but decided to make her spell it out anyway.
“Your father. You must make peace with him. He skulks around the house looking…”
“It is true,” Marianne said. “Do you recall the one time we made him come and watch the three-hour ballet with us? He looks like that—but worse.”
“Goodness gracious,” Evelyn said. “We can’t have that.” She rolled her eyes, not caring that it wasn’t dignified. She was with her sisters and friends. It did not matter. “He has made it quite clear what he thinks of me. I have nothing to say to him.”
“But he is your father. Perhaps if you spoke to him—explained to him—he would understand.”
“You cannot believe that, Auntie,” she said. “After everything that has happened? After everything he did? I shall never forgive him.”
“Perhaps you could involve him in your scheme to help the climbing boys,” Annabelle suggested. “You may think badly of him, but he has alliances in the House of Lords.”
“But do we need him?” Marianne asked. “Now that we have the Duke?”
Evelyn smiled. The evening after they had finally declared themselves to one another, the two of them sat together on the settee, their arms slung around each other, and he spoke of plans for the future, of their dreams. He had promised that he would do what he could to help her in her venture and to involve himself in the House of Lords to affect the changes he had always wished to see from afar, even though she knew it would be a big step for him.
Even now, he was meeting with Julian to discuss terms.
“If we have Father and Nathaniel and Lord—” she paused, thinking of Julian’s title— “we could make a difference.”
“And Julian is going to help,” Annabelle said. “He still feels dreadful about what Charmaine did. He would do anything for Nathaniel, anyhow. He may not be a sitting member of the House of Lords yet, but his father—my uncle—is, and Julian wields great influence over him.”
Evelyn sighed. “Very well. If you speak to your cousin, and I will speak to my father.”
“He will be back this afternoon,” Eugenia said. “He will be so pleased.”
Evelyn let out a sigh. Why could she not, even for one afternoon, revel in her newfound happiness without some shadow casting itself over her joy?
Later that afternoon, she stood in front of her father’s study, her hand itching and twitching as it curled around the doorknob. She took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the home that had been both a sanctuary and a burden, and then knocked.
“Enter,” he called.
