CHAPTER 38
Evelyn lay on her bed, utterly defeated. She had returned the previous day and gone straight to her chamber, throwing herself onto the mattress and pulling the covers over her head—just as she had done the day after her mother died.
Of course, that had been the only day she’d allowed herself to grieve. The very next morning, she had been up early to meet the undertaker, who came to drape the parlor in black. She had to be present for her sisters, who had been deeply affected by their mother’s passing. She had to support her father, who had not left his bed at all.
She’d cared for her sisters until their aunt arrived. Their uncle Frederick—still alive then—had joined them shortly after.
But now… now her sisters were with her aunt. They were safe. She didn’t need to tend to anyone. Her new friends from the ladies’ club wouldn’t expect her at the next meeting for severalmore days, when they were due to discuss Nathaniel’s speech in the House of Lords.
She had no reason to get up.
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Then, she turned on her left side to look at the wall. Then her right, and finally to the window. All she could see were birds flying past, but from outside came the sounds of life—carriage wheels crunching on gravel, voices in conversation, the occasional burst of laughter. Now and then, a bird would land on the sill and peck at the window, as if asking for food or attention.
She barely moved except to turn her pillows. Eventually, she fell asleep again. When she woke, the light had changed. Evening.
For a moment, she was disoriented, surprised by how quite unfamiliar this familiar room now felt.
A knock sounded at the door, and her aunt entered.
“You’ve been in bed for over twenty-four hours,” she said gently. “Do you not want to get up?”
“I’m tired,” Evelyn murmured, though it wasn’t quite true. Her body was tired from lying too long in one position. When she sat up, her back gave a sharp crack, and her legs ached to be stretched.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Eugenia asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Because you know me too well,” Evelyn replied.
“I do. I know you very, very well. And I can tell this isn’t just a fight with Nathaniel. Something more is bothering you, isn’t it? What happened?”
“He hasn’t come here, has he?” Evelyn didn’t know what she wanted the answer to be.
“He did,” Eugenia said.
Evelyn drew a sharp breath. “What? When? What happened?”
“He spoke to the butler, who came to fetch me—your father was out. I told him you were unwell and that I’d let you know he had visited. He tried to explain, saying there had been a misunderstanding. Something you overheard, perhaps…”
Evelyn scoffed. “Of course. Already lying again.”
“Lying about what, exactly?” Eugenia asked, visibly confused.
“About how he really feels. He said…” She trailed off. It was difficult to get the words out. She dropped her head, breathed deeply, and then told her aunt everything. What she’doverheard. What her father and Lord Halston had said. Her own suspicions.
When she finished, her aunt leaned back slowly.
“So you believe Nathaniel never truly loved you,” she said. “That he was using you. That he has carte blanche to do as he pleases, and that everything was a lie—all because of what Halston and your father said.”
“Well, yes. Not Halston, but my father? He wouldn’t lie to me about something like this. It’s in his interest that Nathaniel and I get along.”
“Is it?” her aunt asked. “Because to me, it seems the opposite. Your father and Nathaniel are not close. He may have helped with the climbing boys matter, but that was for your sake. In fact, if your marriage were to fall apart, your father might find that quite… convenient.”
“But that would be a scandal.”
“Not if it could be spun to look like Nathaniel’s fault. My dear, I must be honest—I do not trust your father.”
“You don’t trust your own brother?” Evelyn asked, shocked. “You’ve always defended him.”
“I know. But lately I’ve seen sides of him even I, as his sister, can no longer ignore. Marrying you off to that old man—God rest his soul—was the first warning sign. I should have intervened.”
