He removed her hand from his arm and held it in his. ‘You don’t know what you are saying.’
‘I do, Drake. I know exactly what it means. My family will disown me and leave me with nothing. But I won’t have nothing. I will have you.’
Drake’s gaze lifted above her head to the great building behind her. A muscle worked in his jaw and Evelyn wondered if he was looking at all she stood to lose.
‘He is watching us,’ said Drake. Evelyn stiffened as he let go of her hand, took a step back and bowed his head to her. He was leaving, she thought, horrified. She may not see him again. He straightened and met her gaze. ‘Meet me at the end of the drive at midnight. Only bring what you can carry. I will be waiting for you.’
* * *
Evelyn lay in bed, watching Tilly undertake the finishing touches before retiring for the day. Picking up a discarded stocking and tidying the dressing table were minor parts of a routine that had shaped her life, but would soon come to an end. Evelyn had tolerated the charade of being prepared for bed knowing that as soon as Tilly left she would be packing a bag. Evelyn felt exhausted by the events of the day, but was still keen for the night to begin.
Following Drake’s departure, her father, incandescent with rage, harangued her for an hour on her responsibilities as the heir to the Pendragon fortune, to her cousin Mawgan, and as a woman of her class. Her mother played no part in the lecture. Instead she sent for Doctor Birch and took to her bed complaining of a sudden malady. To his credit, DoctorBirch came straight away to tend to her. After spending an hour providing the attention her mother craved, he was paid handsomely for his service and invited to stay for dinner by her father. Evelyn recognised the invitation for what it was. Her father had no wish to eat alone with his daughter and the doctor would provide a much-needed buffer between them.
The evening meal was a painful affair for father and daughter, who ate very little and did not speak to one another. However, Doctor Birch, whose appetite was as heavy as his consumption of port wine, was in good spirits throughout and did not notice the tension between his companions. Evelyn remained acutely aware that her father’s rage still festered and it was not until the men retired to the withdrawing room to smoke their cigars, drink brandy and discuss the deficiencies of the female gender did Evelyn notice that her father’s earlier rage was beginning to subside. His spirits even lifted enough to invite Doctor Birch to stay the night. Thankfully Doctor Birch had declined. The less people present on the night of her elopement the better. She would bring shame to the family name. No matter, Evelyn concluded, her future was with Drake, not here.
Evelyn noticed that Tilly had not spoken for most of the bedtime routine. She could not blame her. Tilly had helped her through the Rest Cure and shared so many of her own secrets with Evelyn. If it was not for the gossip she had heard and passed on to Evelyn, she may not have been prepared for her night of lovemaking with Drake. Tilly had taught her things that no lady of her breeding should know until her wedding night and, in sharing those secrets, had unknowingly helped make Evelyn’s night with Drake a wonderful experience she hoped to repeat. A surge of guilt prompted an apology from Evelyn for keeping her relationship with Drake a secret from her.
Tilly’s reply was curt. ‘It’s no concern of mine what you get up to.’
‘I know you are upset. Yesterday, I didn’t know that he would ask for my father’s permission.’
‘I feel foolish for talking about him to you. For saying the things I did about him.’
‘I wanted to tell you, Tilly, but I knew my father would not accept him.’
‘So has it ended between you?’
What could she say? Should she tell her? Something inside Evelyn held her back from confessing her plan. ‘He has refused to give his consent. What more can be done?’
Tilly left soon after, shutting the door quietly behind her and leaving Evelyn alone with her thoughts. Evelyn waited an hour before she climbed out of bed in search of a suitable bag. The house was silent, whilst the outside world was cast in the inky black and grey colours of the night.
Evelyn had no idea what to take with her. She had never packed a trunk for a journey before, let alone a small bag. Clothes and undergarments were hastily inspected and thrown aside and what was finally chosen had to be quickly reassessed as it would not all fit inside. She abandoned the task to search for something to wear. It must be practical and last. A dress that could be worn at all times of the day. Evelyn found a grey dress, lined with red trim, which would suffice and hastily dressed. Her last task was to pin her hair into a serviceable bun — another task she had never had to do. It stayed in place — just. It would have to do for now. She grabbed a few more pins and a comb and stuffed them into her bag. She would have to look presentable if she was to find work. Shoes, stockings. What else? Of course, undergarments. She would need undergarments. The panic in the pit of her stomach began to rise up inside of her. What if she was not ready in time? What if someone saw her leave? Her throat and lips felt like parchment. She went to the basin in the corner of the room, poured some water and scooped some inher cupped hands. She drank from it, then quickly sluiced her face and neck with what remained. The door opened and Evelyn froze.
Tilly stood on the threshold, with a fresh towel for the morning in her hand. ‘I was passing and heard . . .’ Her eyes widened when she saw Evelyn dressed. Evelyn rushed to the door and quietly shut it. Tilly surveyed the scattered clothes on the floor, then looked up at her mistress. She was horrified. ‘You are running away?’
Evelyn touched her lips with her fingers. ‘Hush. Someone will hear you.’
‘With him?’
Evelyn nodded. ‘Please, Tilly, don’t tell anyone. Go to bed and pretend you do not know.’
Tilly absently gave the towel to Evelyn as she tried to take in her reply. ‘You will be ruined!’
Evelyn cast the towel aside. ‘Don’t worry about me.’
‘Don’t do it, Miss Evelyn. He is not worth it.’ Her hands flew up to her face as a thought struck her. ‘Your parents! Dear Lord . . . what will Sir Robert say?’
‘Go to bed, Tilly,’ ordered Evelyn calmly, trying to walk her to the door.
Her maid resisted. ‘He will kill you. He will kill me for knowing.’ Tilly broke away and wandered through the warzone of discarded clothes. She picked up a dress and a chemise at her feet, looking at each garment as if she did not know what to do with them. She turned and looked at Evelyn, the garments hanging limply from her hands, her eyes filling with bright tears. ‘Please, Miss Evelyn, don’t run off with him.’ She began to tremble as the full enormity of the situation finally hit home.
Evelyn took the clothes from her hands and hugged her tight. ‘It is going to be all right, Tilly. I love Drake and he loves me. We are going to be happy. Just go to bed and pretend youknow nothing.’ She felt Tilly fall limp against her and begin to sob. Her life was dictated by routine and Evelyn had just turned everything on its head. No wonder she was so distressed. ‘Hush, Tilly. Hush,’ soothed Evelyn. ‘Don’t be frightened for me. Now go to bed. In the morning go about your daily routine and raise the alarm when you are due to wake me. You do not have to be afraid. They will never know that you found me packing.’
Tilly fell silent. Eventually she withdrew from Evelyn’s embrace. ‘When are you going?’ she asked sombrely.
‘He’s meeting me at midnight.’
‘You shouldn’t be travelling alone in the dark.’
