How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy (5 page)

Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, Evie glanced at Will, but he simply regarded her with a quiet sympathy that looked too much like pity. “I haven't done anything, as far as I know, but one never knows.”

“Don't worry about Mamma,” Eden said. “I'll take care of her. But we'd better all get back to the house or there will surely be a scene.”

“That sounds amusing,” Captain Gilbride commented sardonically.

“Trust me, it wouldn't be,” Will replied.

Evie was almost tempted to laugh. Much had changed in the last ten years, but one thing still had the power to unite them all—fear of Lady Reese.

Her impulse to laugh died when Will stepped forward, as if ready to take her arm and escort her back to the house. She had an alarming sense that if she touched him, she might just faint from sheer nerves.

Fortunately, her sister turned her back on Captain Gilbride, who was politely asking if he could escort her to the house. Instead, Eden slipped her hand in the crook of Will's arm. When he responded with a startled look, she flashed him a grin.

“Come along, Wolf,” Eden said. “I'm dying to hear all about your adventures.” She cast a saucy glance at Gilbride, who looked slightly taken aback by her rebuff. “I'm sure you and the captain got up to all kinds of trouble over there.”

Chattering gaily, Eden pulled Will across the lawn. Captain Gilbride, looking peeved, trailed in their wake.

Taking Matt's arm, Evie started to follow at a slower pace.

“Looks like Edie's up to her old tricks.” Matt's pleasant, rather stolid features registered his disapproval. “She'll have those two at sixes and sevens before nightfall.”

Evie frowned. “She's just teasing Will, that's all.”

“Hope so for your sake, Sis. We all know how you feel about Will. Wouldn't be very sporting of Edie to try and cut you out.”

She went light-headed at the possibility of Eden falling in love with Will. What a dreadful development that would turn out to be.

Then she remembered it didn't matter, because she didn't love Will anymore. “Don't be silly. There hasn't been anything between us for a very long time.”

“Well, that's good to hear. You know how Mamma feels about him.”

Their mother had only tolerated Will's presence because his guardian, Mr. Philip Endicott, was a wealthy member of the local gentry from a distinguished family. Her father thought the world of Mr. Endicott and had always welcomed Will to Maywood Manor. Will's true parentage was never spoken of, but that didn't mean her mother wasn't fully aware of it. To Mamma, just as damning as Will's illegitimate status was his lack of financial prospects. According to Lady Reese's social barometer, for all the royal blood that ran through his veins Will had nothing to recommend him as a potential suitor.

Not that Evie had ever cared about his prospects. She would have happily left her quiet comfortable life in the country and followed Will behind the drum in order to be with him.

Unfortunately, Will had never called upon her to make that sacrifice. “You needn't worry. I'm sure Will's not here for any reason other than a simple visit to old friends.”

Matt gave a noncommittal grunt. “If you say so, but he seemed fairly keen about wrangling an invitation from me.”

They were about to mount the shallow marble steps that led up to the back terrace, but Evie held him back. “Then you weren't joking about Wolf hunting you down?”

“But it was . . . oh, I see what you mean,” he said with a slow grin. “You mean I wasn't joking about the fact that he was insistent about coming down to the old pile.”

“Yes, that's what I mean,” she said, stifling a sigh. Matt was not the sharpest pin in the box, but he was a kind and affectionate brother.

“He was certainly keen on it, I'll say that. I was already out the door when he came dashing after me. Said he heard we were having a jolly house party and would like the chance to come visit with everyone.”

“He actually said
jolly?
”

Matt pursed his lips, obviously thinking hard. “Yes, he did. In fact, Sis, he was so blasted adamant that I was convinced he wanted to come courting, if you see what I mean.”

She pressed a hand to her bodice, hating the instinctive flutter of hope in her chest. “Yes, I do see what you mean.”

But why would Will even consider trying to rekindle their old relationship? What could possibly have sparked an interest in something that had lain dormant—if not lifeless—for years?

“I don't suppose he's heard about you and Michael Beaumont has he?” Matt asked.

Evie's silly flight of fancy crashed back to earth. She could almost imagine the stone of the terrace cracking under her feet with the force of the impact as she was brought down by the fell hand of guilt.

“No, I don't suppose he has heard,” she said. “After all, why would he?”

“There, miss, I think that's done it,” murmured Cora around the hairpins still in her mouth. Evie waited patiently as the maid inspected her coiffure, resisting the impulse to fiddle with the pins and ribbons that held her thick ringlets in place.

Cora, lady's maid to both Evie and Edie, gave a final nod of approval. “Don't you be yanking away at those pins and ribbons, Miss Evie. That hair of yours is so heavy you'll bring the entire thing down.”

Evie spun around on the low stool at her dressing table. “But I haven't even touched it!”

Cora snorted knowingly, as was to be expected from a servant who'd been looking after her charge for years. “You're thinking about it, though. But it looks perfectly lovely just the way it is, so don't you go messing about with it.”

Evie eyed the arrangement of apricot-colored ribbons interwoven through her hair that made the locks fall in artful disarray around her temples and neck. Because the ribbons matched her gown, the effect was both tasteful and pretty, making the most of her thick, honey-colored hair. Unfortunately, Cora's efforts were wasted as soon as Evie donned her spectacles. Most men never looked beyond those, immediately classifying her as a wallflower.

Given her tendency to clam up around men the assumption was generally correct. Evie hadn't a clue how to flirt, giggle, or listen with rapt attention when a young man droned on about his horses, a bet he'd made, or the
capital
batch of snuff he'd just acquired. True, it sometimes chafed to spend social occasions sitting against the wall with the chaperones and old ladies, but most days she cared not a hoot about any of it, including whether or not her outfit was all the crack. After all, Michael liked her perfectly well as she was, so why should she worry about her looks tonight?

She knew the answer to that question, but Will Endicott had nothing to do with her life anymore. There was simply no reason to wish for his good opinion, especially since Michael had made it clear he intended to ask her father's permission to marry her. The only reason he hadn't done so already was in deference to the objections Mamma would surely make. Michael had suggested that a long, unofficial courtship would give Lady Reese time to know him and recognize how devoted he was to Evie.

Now that their unofficial courtship had been going on for over a year, Evie thought he'd waited quite long enough. The sooner she and Michael were married, the sooner she could escape from under her mother's thumb.

As Cora moved around the bedroom tidying up, Evie contemplated her future as Mrs. Michael Beaumont. They'd planned a quiet, comfortable life with an emphasis on their charitable work. Michael was no more interested in the social activities of the
ton
than she was, and the fact that he was a Catholic—albeit one from a wealthy aristocratic family—meant that he, too, was something of an outsider like Evie. Those similarities had drawn her to Michael from the first. She was convinced they would have a good life together, and she saw no reason why the fact that she wasn't wildly in love with him should be an impediment to the success of their marriage.

Just the opposite was true, as Will's sudden reappearance today had so amply demonstrated. After only a few minutes in his company, Evie had found herself grappling with a host of strong and decidedly disconcerting emotions. That was not what she wanted. Not anymore. She wanted Michael and the quiet life they would have together, not the fevered, almost desperate love she'd once felt for Will.

Squelching the sound of mocking laughter in her head, Evie picked up her evening gloves and went to fetch Eden. She'd almost reached the door connecting their rooms when she heard the familiar staccato click of heels in the hallway.

“Confound it,” she muttered, and then pinned what she hoped was a pleasant smile on her face.

The door opened and her mother swept into the room. “You may go, Cora,” Lady Reese said, barely acknowledging the maid's quick curtsey.

Cora slipped out the door but not before giving Evie an encouraging wink. Evie had to choke back a laugh.

“What are you snorting about in that unattractive way, Evelyn?” her mother asked. “Ladies do not snort.”

“I just thought of something amusing, that's all.”

“Please keep amusing thoughts to yourself. If there's one thing a man cannot abide, it's a woman who thinks herself clever. You already have too much of a reputation as a bluestocking as it is, and that is fatal, as you well know.”

“Yes, Mamma,” Evie said in a resigned voice.

She'd heard a variation on this lecture every day for the last ten years, and her resentment had gradually dimmed. Mamma believed such admonitions were part of her maternal duties, and Evie was convinced that she had no idea how wounding her sharp words could be. Her mother truly loved her, but that she found Evie a trial was abundantly clear.

“Let me have a look at you, my dear,” her mother said, as she always did before a party. One would think she would acknowledge that her daughters were old enough to get dressed by themselves, but such was not the case.

Then again, their mother was still a great beauty. Unlike Evie and Eden, she was tall and slender with a perfectly proportioned figure and the finely turned ankle of a debutante. She had elegant features, brilliant green eyes, and luxuriant chestnut-brown hair. It had always been a source of grievance to her that her children—especially her daughters—took after Papa's side of the family, a line that harked back to hardy yeoman's stock.

“For once, you look rather elegant,” her mother finally said. “That color suits you, and the cut of the gown is quite flattering. You don't look as top-heavy as you sometimes do.” She shook her head. “But try not to eat so much tonight, my dear. You don't want to lose what little figure you have.”

“Michael Beaumont doesn't seem to find me unattractive, Mamma,” Evie said, unable to help herself. “In fact, he seems to quite like my, er, frame.”

Her mother curled a lip. “How vulgar. But I suppose one cannot be surprised that Mr. Beaumont lacks a certain degree of elegance, given his background.”

Evie barely managed not to roll her eyes. Though Michael's family sprang from ancient and distinguished roots, going back to the Norman Conquest, they were Catholic. To her mother, that constituted an unforgiveable sin.

Mamma glided over to the reading chaise in front of the fireplace, her burgundy and cream silk gown settling in graceful folds as she sat. “Evelyn, I realize that you are expecting Mr. Beaumont to make you an offer. And although your father and I have grave reservations about a union with his family, it would seem that you have few other prospects.”

“What about
my
prospects, Mamma?” Eden asked, catching the last of their mother's comment as she entered the room. “I'm the same age as Evie, after all. Actually, I'm older, which makes me even more perilously on the shelf than she is.”

Evie repressed a grin. Eden had preceded her into the world by a mere twenty minutes, a fact her twin took great delight in pointing out. But the odd thing was, Eden acted very much like a big sister and was protective of Evie in a way that sometimes seemed more consistent with a parent than a sibling.

Predictably, Mamma's face lit up when her favorite child walked into the room. “Don't be silly, Eden. You're exceedingly popular. Just the other day, Lord Barton complained to me that you barely notice him. And you could certainly do worse than him, my love. He is the heir apparent to a marquess, after all.”

“He's boring and has the most appalling teeth,” Eden said, ruthlessly disposing of one of her many suitors. “I refuse to have children with that man.”

Her mother sighed. “Very well, but one of these days you must settle down. You can't go flitting about like a butterfly for the rest of your life.”

“I don't know why not,” Eden muttered, flopping down on Evie's bed.

“Eden, do not crush your dress,” Mamma admonished. “Now, as I was saying to Evelyn—”

“Mamma, look at the time,” Evie interrupted. “We're already late, and you know how much you hate that.”

“It's unattractive to lecture your elders, my dear,” her mother said. “As I was saying, you have an expectation regarding Michael Beaumont. Despite your lack of other alternatives, you should not be making hasty decisions or settling too quickly on a match that may not be to your advantage.”

Evie exchanged a startled glance with her sister. “I'm sorry, Mamma, but I don't understand. I thought we'd already ascertained that I
had
no other eligible suitors. How has that changed?”

When Mamma lifted one eyebrow, meeting her gaze with an arch, knowing look, a sense of foreboding crawled up Evie's spine. She had to struggle to find a coherent reply to her mother's unspoken challenge. “Do you mean Will? Mamma, surely you must be jesting.”

“I never jest, Evelyn, at least not about something this important.”

“Isn't that ever the truth,” Eden muttered.

Evie ignored her twin. “You're wrong, Mamma. Will is at loose ends, that's all. He thought it might be nice to visit old friends.” At least she hoped that's all it was.

Eden sat up, swinging her feet over the edge of Evie's high bed. “Do you really think Wolf 's come down expressly to see Evie?”

“Don't call him by that vulgar nickname.” Their mother smoothly came to her feet. “I cannot fathom why else he would visit. Goodness knows I never encouraged him to drop in like this.”

Evie spread her hands wide. “Then why would you wish him to court me? You don't even like him.”

“William has done very well for himself,” Mamma said. “He is on the Duke of Wellington's staff and apparently enjoys the favor of the Duke of York. I imagine he'll have quite a good career in the military or the diplomatic corps.”

“You certainly never saw an advantage in his association with his father before,” Evie blurted out. “Quite the opposite.”

Her mother quelled her with a haughty look. “That is simply not true. My reservations about William always concerned his lack of financial prospects.”

That was a hum if Evie had ever heard one. Mamma had
always
objected to Will's scandalous parentage.

Eden snapped her fingers. “It's obviously because Michael's a Catholic,” she said to Evie. “And because of his politics, too, I imagine. Mamma would rather you marry good old Will, even if he is the by-blow of a prince.”

“That is enough from you, Eden,” their mother said irritably. “Your father would be most displeased to hear you speaking in so crude a fashion.” She turned her back on her favorite and glowered at Evie. “I want you to be pleasant to Will tonight. No ducking into the corner with Mr. Beaumont to discuss that dreary charity of yours. Try, for once, to be charming instead of acting like the bespectacled bluestocking you are so determined to be.”

She didn't wait for an answer but swept to the door, her short train swishing softly behind her. “Gather your things and come down, girls. We don't want to be any later than we are.”

“We'll be right there, Mamma,” Eden said. “I just have to fetch my fan.”

Evie groaned, wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and hide her head under the pillow. Thanks to Will's mystifying reappearance, the fragile truce between Michael and her mother would surely collapse. If Mamma had even a hint that someone else might be willing to marry Evie—short of the dustman or the butcher—she would leap on that chance.

“Lord, what a mess,” Eden said.

“Thank you for stating the obvious. It's bad enough that I now have to manage Will, but I'll also have to keep Mamma away from Michael. The poor lamb was just beginning to think he was actually making headway with her, too.”

“You'd better spend some time with Wolf if you have any hope of spiking Mamma's guns. I'll take care of your gentle-hearted swain if you like.” Eden adopted a martyred expression. “I'll even ask him to drone on about Catholic emancipation. If
that
doesn't show you what a devoted sister I am, nothing will.”

“That's not funny, Edie. Michael is the most honorable person I know, and the causes he supports cry out for justice. I'm very proud of him, even if no one else in this family seems to understand why.”

Eden glided over to rest her hands on Evie's shoulders. “Darling, I do support him, and you.” Her sister's cornflower-blue eyes, identical to her own, inspected her with a rare gravity. “But sometimes I wonder if his work is the only thing that's attracted you to Michael. It's admirable what he does, but it takes up most of his life and now it's doing the same with yours. Don't you want more than that from marriage? You've always wanted a comfortable home in the country and children to spoil.”

A sudden lump formed in Evie's throat. She could never hide anything from her twin, nor could Eden hide anything from her. It was both the most wonderful and the most frustrating aspect of their relationship.

“Of course I do,” she forced out, “and so does Michael. But his work is very important to him, and I understand that.”

“Yes, but I'm worried that his work will always come before you.”

Evie broke away from her sister and rummaged in her dressing-table drawer for a fan. “Would you rather Michael be a typical young buck, wasting his days gambling and racing his curricle and his nights drinking and whoring? That is how most of the men we know spend their time, isn't it?”

Eden scoffed. “Wolf 's not like that at all. He's serious, and it's one of the reasons you got along so well with him. You were like two old scholars in an ivory tower, always reading and discussing things.”