He tilted his head in confusion over the question. “Why?”
“You could have simply pushed her from your home, made public your displeasure, cut her off even. She could have lived her affairs and you could have washed your hands of it rather than throw yourself into the fire even more.”
He pursed his lips. “I suppose I couldn’t stand to make us both so miserable. And she threatened me if I didn’t give her what she wanted. Yes, she would be separate from me in some ways if she was pushed out and I washed my hands without severing the marriage. But she still would have wielded enormous power with my name. She told me she would make her affairs as fully public as possible. She would spend money in my name. She would do everything in her power to ruin me.”
“God. What an evil…evil…bitch.”
She said the last in a whisper, like it softened it. And he, fool that he was, still felt this strange desire to defend Florence. He fought it and shrugged. “Whatever she is, it became clear it was better to give her what she wanted. The cost, in the end, would be lower. So I have. I’ve done my part by petitioning for the divorce. I’ve paid for it, in more ways than one, and given her an allowance and access to another home in London. I would have walked away without ever seeking retribution until she and Harry made their liaison public. Until I saw that she had betrayed me with a friend. Worse, thathehad betrayed me. And then I admit I wanted to hurt him. Hurt them.”
He realized he had his empty glass in a white-knuckled grip as he spoke. Evelina made no mention of it but moved to him and slipped the tumbler away. She walked back to her sideboard and refilled both their glasses. When she returned to him, she took a sip and said, “But notphysicallyhurt them, surely.”
He shook his head instantly. Oh, he’d thought about punching Southwater as hard as he could, but anything more than that? Of course he would never harm them. “No! I mean a humiliation that in some small way reflects what I’ve felt. Whatwehave felt. To make them care about what they’ve done. That would be the fantasy.”
She lifted her gaze again at that word and once again he was lost in the depths of it. But this time there was no peace. No, instead he felt something entirely different. He felt the hatching of the tiniest kernel of a plan. An itch in his mind that whispered that this woman could be the key.
“I don’t know how we could do that,” Evelina said.
“He…” He hesitated.
“What?” she said when he didn’t finish his thought.
“I’ve hurt you enough already.”
She arched a brow. “That wasn’t you, my lord. Harry hurt me. What do you have to say about him? Let’s get it all out, for we are the only two who could ever understand what has happened.”
He nodded slowly. “Very well. He was always proud to have you as his mistress. He bragged about you.”
He didn’t add that sometimes Southwater had done so rudely and with great detail to leering friends. It had always turned Vaughn’s stomach, for he didn’t imagine Evelina would have liked to be spoken of in such a way.
Her cheeks pinkened. “Well, some good that pride has done me.”
“He liked that other men were jealous of your attentions. He liked that you were willing to be with him, even if he eventually married. He saw that as some proof of his prowess and his power over you.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that,” she muttered, and she slugged back more of her drink. “He told you that?”
He nodded. “And it makes me wonder if he might not be annoyed if you were to quickly enter into a new arrangement. Something public and passionate.” Her eyes widened, but he didn’t stop. The kernel was growing now, flowering. “Something with a friend ofhis. With…with me.”
And there it was, out. Something he hadn’t fully thought out, at least not intentionally. But perhaps the moment he saw her at the hell the night before, walking toward him, it had begun to fester, this idea. And it did make sense.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, her nostrils flaring and her gaze flitting over him with…perhaps it was a touch of disgust at the idea that all this was some sloppy way to try to bed her. “You want to sleep with me?”
“No!” he said, but though his tone sounded certain when he said the word, he felt less so. It had been a long time since he took anyone to his bed. And Evelina was lovely. He’d always found her so, though he never would have pursued that little flicker of desire because of a thousand promises that had meant so little to those to whom he’d made them.
“Thank you,” she said with dry humor.
He smiled despite the topic. “I apologize. It is not for your lack of attractiveness. I’m just not talking about ustrulybecoming lovers. We only want Florence and Southwater tothinkthat we are. To let them see us together, see us flaunt our supposed passion and happiness as if what they’ve done to us is meaningless.”
She blinked and he couldn’t tell what she truly thought of his suggestion. “That’s mad.”
“Is it?” he pressed, and then sighed as exhaustion washed through him. “I don’t know, perhaps it is. Perhaps it’s just too much whisky and pain talking.” He walked away and set his half-full glass on the sideboard. When he faced her again, he smoothed his jacket and tried very hard to become the proper Earl of Blackburn again. “I don’t know much, Evelina, but I know I blew your life apart tonight, or at least your perception of what your life once was. The actions of others may not be my fault, but my own are and I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused amongst all the others. I’ll go now.”
She seemed to consider that statement and then she slowly nodded. “Thank you, my lord. For both helping me see the truth and for your apology. It’s rare to receive one, let alone one over and over, for ladies of my station. And once again, let me say how sorryIam that you’ve been hurt so deeply.”
He inclined his head. “Don’t trouble yourself to see me out. Good evening.”
And with that he pivoted away and returned to her foyer where her butler hustled to meet him and then called for his carriage. But as he awaited the arrival of his vehicle, he couldn’t help but occasionally look back toward the parlor where he had left Evelina. She never exited it, but he was fully aware that she was so close.
And that somehow they were now bound by the betrayals of their former lovers. And by the anger they had found safety enough to express in each other’s company. He welcomed that, but he also feared he might not ever find an outlet for it again.
