“I did care for her once,” he admitted. “Foolishly, in the end. But understand that I never would have kept something like this from you, even if I know you also loved Southwater.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to go.”
“Oh no, please,” she said, and took a step toward him.
He took an equal step back. If she touched him, he would just forgive her. He would tell himself she’d meant no real harm and it would probably be true. But he wasn’t sure he could trust that voice. He’d been burned by it before. “Not forever. We will discuss this further. I just need to think.”
Her hands, which she’d been holding up in a plea, fell back to her sides. She nodded slowly. “I-I understand. I do. Please take all the time you need.”
“Thank you,” he said, and then he moved to the door, unlocked it and exited into her foyer. His head spun as his horse was brought and then he rode off into the night, knowing that it wasn’t Florence’s duplicity that troubled him.
It was the idea that he had been kept in the dark by Evie. A woman he hadn’t realized he’d come to have so much faith in.
* * *
Vaughn was gone in an instant and after she’d watched him ride away without so much as a glance over his shoulder, Evie sat back down on the settee where they’d made love and rested her head back to stare at the ceiling above.
Tears stung her eyes. Guilt ripped at her heart. And it hurt so damn much to know she’d let him down because she was too much of a coward to hurt him and risk the consequences. Was this what love was? Just something that felt pretty and then only hurt?
No, that couldn’t be true. She saw the love between Arabella and Silas and it wasn’t that. But perhaps her sister was just a lucky one in a million to find such a powerful connection. Perhaps Evelina shouldn’t wish for something so rare.
Even though her heart was filled with the emotion for the man who had just strode out her door.
The door to the foyer was still open and so when there was a knock on the door a moment later, she heard it, as well as the male voices talking softly after Parsons let whomever was calling in.
Her heart leapt and she got to her feet and rushed to the foyer. “Vaughn!” she cried out, thinking she would see he’d returned because he wanted to continue the conversation.
Only it wasn’t him. She came up short, her hand lifting to her lips. It was the Duke of Southwater. Harry had been talking to her butler but now he looked at her from across the expanse between them. He smiled and she drew back. That was the same soft smile he’d always given her during their relationship. The one that had faded long before he ended things between them so cruelly.
“Evelina,” he said, walking past Parsons toward her.
The butler looked at her in question and she nodded to say she would accept the unexpected visitor. “Your Grace,” she managed to squeak out.
Southwater tilted his head. “Your Grace?”
She didn’t respond, refused to acknowledge the question in his tone or change how she addressed him. “I didn’t expect you.”
“I know. I simply needed to see you. May we talk?”
She sighed because the last thing she wanted to do was interact with this man when she could still feel Vaughn on her skin and in her heart. When she was still torn apart by what she’d done and hadn’t done, alongside what she felt so powerfully for him.
“Please,” Southwater added, and took a step toward her.
She motioned to the parlor. “Very well. I have a few moments before I must leave for my sister’s.”
She had no such appointment, but it left her with options, at least. He followed her back into the parlor and looked around. “Your sister’s home really is fine. It’s good you had it to return to.”
She pursed her lips. “Yes, after you ejected me so you could give your new lover my house, I suppose it could have beenverybad if I hadn’t had this place to fall back to.”
“Well, I knew you were protected,” he said, and crossed to the settee where she and Vaughn had just tangled together. He fluffed up a pillow they’d crushed in their ardor and threw himself down without waiting for her to take her own seat.
She refused to respond to his statement about protection. Refused to argue with him that that was the duty he had so fully shirked. It didn’t matter anymore because he didn’t matter anymore.
“What do you want, Southwater?” she asked.
“Whisky,” he said with a smile.
She shook her head. “That isn’t what I mean.”
He wrinkled his brow, seeming surprised that she wasn’t warming to him. How had she ever? Now when she looked at him all she saw were his sharp edges, his selfishness, his lack of care for anyone but himself. It had always been there, hadn’t it? She could see it now when she wasn’t blinded by a desire for safety and calm.
