Before he could say another word, he rose and brushed by her, attempting to look past her, despite the unmistakable shock in her expression.
He could make her happy again later. He couldn’t worry about that now.
Now he had other things on his mind.
Most specifically, the Earl of Norwood.
Evelyn heldher emotions in check as she watched Asher go. He barely stopped for anything, but for his cloak and hat, which the startled butler passed to him when Asher barked out his demand.
The butler had tried to tell him that his mother and sister had gone out for the afternoon, but Asher hadn’t stopped to listen as he had been far too intent on his destination.
Evelyn branched off to the front parlor, where she watched him through the grand window. Asher didn’t wait for a carriage, but instead, the moment his groom brought out his favorite horse, he leapt on his back and took off down the drive without a backward glance behind him.
Which told her all she needed to know.
He had certainly been clear enough with his words. He didn’t care about how she felt. It didn’t bother him that he had taken out his anger on her.
All that mattered — his priority — was his family, and finding justice.
She understood, to an extent. He had lived with this grief, this yearning to take vengeance, somehow, someway, for years. She just wished he had taken a moment to sit with the knowledge, to rationalize his next steps, instead of acting without thought.
The weight of all they had uncovered fell upon her as she watched his broad shoulders lead the horse down the drive until she could no longer see him. Finally, she allowed the first tear to fall down her cheek.
She opened not only her mind but her heart, allowing everything to flow in and through her.
For her, this was no longer merely a partnership.
It was not an obligation.
It was not a marriage being held together by their mutual respect, preventing society from speaking further about them.
She loved him.
She loved Asher for all he was. Not only for the warm, caring, charming man he showed her now and then, the one he had been before responsibility and obligation had found him. She also loved that upright, rigid duke, for she could understand what made him the way he was, and why he took the world upon his shoulders. In fact, she respected him for it.
And, she realized, she would do anything to help him be happy, in whatever role he decided to take on. He didn’t have to be one or the other. He could be both, and she would love him equally for it.
If he let her.
The fact that she had such depth of feelings for him only made his own flippant disregard of her all the worse.
For she knew that whatever she felt for him, he still felt as he always had for her.
He respected her intellect, enjoyed spending time with her, and was obviously attracted to her.
But how could she love someone so strongly and constantly be in his presence — in his home, in his bed, in his life — when he didn’t feel the same for her?
It caused a crushing weight to descend upon her chest, and she resolved that she would try to get to the heart of the matter, to determine what he felt — and if it wasn’t the same, then perhaps she should try living in the country, to see if it might make this marriage slightly more bearable.
But first, she had to wait.
Wait for him to return. To see if Norwood would confess. If Asher were believed.
She couldn’t think about him not returning, for it was nearly too hard to bear.
But the most important question of all was what would be left of the two of them once the truth was finally spoken aloud?
27
