“She fell in love with someone else?” Evie asked quietly, eager to keep her aunt talking.
“Oh, she’d always loved him. A baronet who’d grown up near her family’s estate. They’d known each other as children.” Aunt Lydia shot a meaningful look at Evie. “And they met in London by happenstance. An exhibition they both wished to attend. Apparently, they both had a fondness for history.”
“They were lovers after that?”
“As Annabel told it, there was no longstanding affair. Just the one encounter in the city.”
“And I am his daughter.”
“Yes, my dear.” Aunt Lydia gave her a soft smile, but Evie couldn’t return it.
Her heart ached with a deep, longstanding pain. “Their illegitimate daughter.”
“Stop that.” Aunt Lydia fluttered her handkerchief as she gestured. “You’re a noblewoman’s daughter. A gentleman’s daughter.”
“A bastard. A by-blow.” Evie took a strange satisfaction in saying the hateful words aloud, if only because it was a secret she’d kept quiet about for so long.
Aunt Lydia lifted her cane and slammed it against the floor. “Cease with those vile condemnations. You are an extraordinary young woman. You are my beloved niece and my most treasured companion.” She sniffed and shot Evie an indignant look. “I do not know what I would have done without you these many years.”
“But I can never marry.” Evie swallowed hard. “Especially a duke.”
Aunt Lydia let out a long, ragged sigh and sagged back in her wingback chair. “No, not a duke.” After a while her aunt added, “But there are gentleman who—”
“No,” Evie stopped her short. “If not him, then no one. I do not wish to marry.”
“Evangeline. . .”
“I’m tired, Aunt Lydia.” Evie forced a tight smile to offer her aunt some reassurance. “I’m all right, but I do think I’ll retire now.”
Aunt Lydia nodded, seeming to realize there was nothing more she could say that would alter the sadness Evie felt.
Evie stood and then bent over her aunt to place a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Perhaps things will look different then.” Aunt Lydia patted her hand affectionately.
Evie stepped out into the hallway and held her breath as she made her way to her room, determined not to cry until she could be alone and unobserved. But halfway to her room, another thought took hold.
She spun on her heel and made her way to Gray’s room, walking quickly to keep from talking herself out of what she wished to do.
Her aunt was right. She couldn’t marry Gray, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have tonight. One night. One moment for the kind of passion she wanted only with him.
CHAPTER9
After leaving his father’s room, Gray returned to his own and paced the long carpet runner in front of his fireplace, debating whether to go to Evie or wait and hope that she might come to him.
He no longer cared about caution or anyone knowing what was between them.
She felt as he did. The way she touched him, kissed him, agreeing to come to his father’s room with him—all of it served to remind him that they could be good together. Better than they’d ever be apart.
And he was tired of waiting to ask her to be his wife. One word from her and they could end this farce of a house party. He could tell his father that a decision had been made. He could do his duty and have the woman of his dreams.
Finally, he couldn’t bear to wait any longer. Why wait when they wanted each other so very much?
Gray strode toward the door of his room but stopped short when someone knocked from the other side.
He slid the latch, pulled the door open, and heart leapt into his throat when he found Evie on his threshold. His first impulse was to reach for her, pull her into his arms, and kiss her senseless.
But she looked distraught, almost as if she’d been crying.
