Robert rose then, slowly and deliberately. “That man will not set foot across my threshold. And if her mother has objections, she may direct them to me.”
Hazel nodded once, approving.
Robert looked toward the window with his hands clasped behind his back and his voice as flat and grave as always. “I do not concern myself with society’s whims, but I will not allow Evelyn to suffer in silence for the sake of decorum. If I am to be herhusband, she will know peace within these walls, or I will tear them down until she does.”
Cordelia blinked. “That’s… oddly romantic.”
“It’s not meant to be,” he replied.
She smiled faintly. “All the better.”
Robert closed the study door behind Lady Hazel and Lady Cordelia with a finality that seemed to echo down the corridor. His hand remained on the latch for a moment longer than necessary. Then he turned and walked briskly toward the east wing where Evelyn had retreated an hour ago.
He did not knock gently. His fist struck the door just once but sharply. No answer.
He opened it.
Empty.
The room was neat…tooneat. There were no signs of her. There was no book abandoned on the chair, no shawl cast aside. Her presence had been here once, but it was long since vanished. His jaw tightened.
That was when he heard voices. They came from below, muffled by wood and plaster. A woman’s lilting tone was too sweet. Ayounger woman’s reply was quiet. And there was a third voice, low, masculine, and unwelcome.
Robert was moving before he registered it, footsteps soundless but swift across the upper landing. As he reached the stairs, Lady Brimwood’s voice lifted, clear and coaxing.
“You must see reason, Evelyn. They are your family.”
No,he thought.They are vipers.
He didn’t pause at the threshold of the drawing room. He walked straight through it, swinging the door open with such force that it bounced once against the wall. The room fell into silence at once.
Evelyn was sitting stiffly on the edge of the settee, pale and with her fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Her mother and father were seated opposite her, showing which sides of the matter they were on.
“Oh, Your Grace,” she said smoothly, regaining composure momentarily. “We were just discussing the remodeling of this room.” She turned to her daughter. “Right, dear?”
Evelyn, without lifting her eyes, agreed. “Yes. Perhaps we might repaint the molding in cream. Or replace the rug with something… more welcoming.”
Robert looked at her. He really looked, not failing to notice the hollow behind her voice and the rigidity in her posture. She was lying. She was playing a part to protect herself.
His voice came low. “I have no time for such games.”
Lady Brimwood blinked. “Pardon?”
He didn’t look at her. “I need a word with Evelyn.”
Evelyn’s head lifted slightly. Her eyes met his, steady but dulled. “I’m in no mood for more serious conversations.”
He stepped forward. “Unfortunate.”
And without another word, he reached down, gripped her waist, and lifted her off the settee in one fluid movement. She let out a soft gasp of outrage as he hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
“Robert!” she snapped, twisting in protest, referring to him by his given name for the first time ever. If he hadn’t been so blinded by rage, he would actually have realized how much he liked it. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Removing you from a poisonous atmosphere,” he replied coolly.
“Put me down! This is completely improper!”
He didn’t. He kept walking, measured and unfazed, through the drawing room, out into the hallway, and toward the library. Behind them was shocked silence.
