‘You are still young and need protecting,’ he had told her. ‘You will understand one day.’
‘I am sixteen now, only a year younger than you. I don’t need protecting,’ she had argued.
‘You are young in your experience of life,’ Drake had said, sounding very wise. Suddenly, he had smiled and she had smiled too. It was enough to break the tension, which had been building since the end of their last kiss. He lay back on the grass and looked up at her with eyes that tugged at her heart. ‘I love you, Evelyn Pendragon,’ he had said, without thinking. His smile faded and he frowned. ‘I know I shouldn’t,’ he said more seriously, ‘but I can’t stop — or will ever want to.’
Yes, the glorious months when he was allocated to the country parkland were the best, but at the end of each day, Evelyn had to leave Drake and pretend she did not know him well. She joined her parents for their evening meal and pretended to enjoy their company as she ate braised veal with a silver knife and fork engraved with their family name. However, locked in her head were her secret memories and she could not help but find herself lost in them, while her mother sipped her wine and her father chewed his meat. Instead she was with Drake again, listening to his whispered words and remembering his kisses on her lips.
* * *
‘Evelyn looks well,’ observed Howard as he watched his son, Mawgan, take a turn of the gardens with her. ‘How long has it been since her . . . illness?’
‘Pneumonia. She had pneumonia.’
‘Ah yes . . . pneumonia.’
‘It’s been over a year since her recovery.’
‘She has grown into a beautiful woman.’
Sir Robert glanced at his brother, expecting to see a hint of malice. There was none. He returned his gaze to his daughter, content. Why would there be? The last twelve months had seen his daughter bloom in the most extraordinary way. He watched the young couple taking a turn in the grounds, their leisurely steps matching, their gazes in opposite directions as they admired the opposing views.
Eventually, Sir Robert said, ‘I’m sorry to hear about Edith.’
‘We feared the worst.’ A crease shadowed his brow. ‘Weight loss is never a good sign. We have been told that she does not have long.’
Sir Robert felt a lump fill his throat. When he had heard of his sister-in-law’s illness he had felt some sympathy towards his brother and offered an invitation for him to visit. However, he had not expected the news to be so bad. He cleared his throat.
‘How long?’
‘Months. And I do not expect to survive her by very many years.’
‘Now you are being maudlin.’
‘It is the truth. Neither of us is getting any younger. They . . .’ Howard jerked his head to their offspring ‘. . . are the future.’
Sir Robert watched his daughter and nephew stop to admire a bed of flowers. He suddenly felt very old.
‘Robert,’ said Howard, interrupting his thoughts, ‘we have spent our best years bickering. I have had an idea that will soothe the troubled waters between us.’ He sighed, as if he felt exhausted from their fighting too. ‘Being the younger brother, and having to bear the younger son’s lot, has always stuck in my throat. I have made no secret of this.’
Sir Robert sombrely nodded in agreement, wary of what was to come. His brother did not usually show his vulnerable side.
‘And you also have a heavy burden to bear,’ said Howard, giving him a sympathetic smile. Sir Robert stiffened.He had been right to remain wary. ‘When Evelyn marries,’ continued Howard, ‘she will take her husband’s name and the Pendragon line will be severed, if not in blood, certainly in the documentation relating to the history of Carrack Estate.’ Howard turned to Sir Robert. A curt nod of his head was his only answer, but it was the only encouragement he needed to continue. ‘If Evelyn remains a spinster—’
‘She is only sixteen.’
‘—there will be no offspring to take over the estate. An inheritance this size is a heavy burden. She is a woman prone to illness. She will always be at risk of a relapse.’
What could he say? His brother had voiced the concerns that kept him awake at night. His attempt to prepare her had dismally failed, as he feared they might.
‘What do you propose?’
‘Mawgan and Evelyn should marry. It will solve all our problems. He has the Pendragon name to hand down and she has your blood. Our bloodline will continue through our children.’
Sir Robert considered his brother’s proposal. Mawgan and Evelyn did make a handsome couple.
‘Does Mawgan know? Has he declared an interest?’
‘No. He does not appear to enjoy the usual gentlemanly pursuits a young man enjoys.’
