Midsummer Eve at Rookery End (8 page)

“Are you considered a rake, then?” she asked in surprise.

His mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “I’m afraid so.”

“Well, I don’t care a fig!” said Eve. “I never listen to gossip and in my eyes, you are the most honourable gentleman alive and always will be.”

“Your faith in me is truly touching, Miss Leighton.”

She looked away and bit her lip. “Please don’t make fun of me.”

He tipped up her chin with one finger. “I am not,” he said softly. “I meant what I said. I find your confidence touching and you are the only person, other than my mother, to see some good in me.”

As he watched her smile in response, the Marquess realised that he had found in Eve Leighton what he didn’t think existed. He had known from the first that she was different to any other woman he had met and now he knew why. Yes, he desired her – that unflattering gown could not conceal her heady combination of innocence and sensual allure – but it went far deeper than that. With one look, she had touched his heart and made his soul sing. She promised an intimacy and a sense of completion he had never known before. Emotion clogged his throat at the thought and only with difficulty did he drag his thoughts back to the present.

Offering her his arm, he said, “Come, let me escort you back to the ballroom.”

Eve laid her fingers on his coat sleeve. “Very well, but given my plan to be a governess, I doubt if I will see you again after this evening, Lord Shaftesbury.”

“On the contrary—” he began.

“Eve!”

A shrill voice interrupted and he looked away from Eve’s upturned countenance to observe a middle-aged lady in a purple gown and turban approaching. A young girl, who even from this distance he could see was very lovely, tripped along in her wake. The older lady was holding the preposterous turban in place on her head as she hurried towards them and she looked extremely annoyed.

“You thoughtless girl, Eve,” she exclaimed. “What on earth made you decide to ramble in the garden at this hour? And where is Sir Ralph? Oh— !”

Mrs Leighton stopped when she saw that Eve was not alone. When the identity of her daughter’s companion registered, she became wreathed in smiles.

“Lord Shaftesbury!” she said breathlessly. “Sir, we are delighted to make your acquaintance.” Mrs Leighton then gave Lydia, already staring dewy-eyed at his lordship, a sharp nudge.

She obliged with a curtsey. “Pleased to meet you, my lord.”

The dowager’s gaze went from the Marquess, to Eve, and then back again. “I find it odd to discover you alone with my daughter in these circumstances, my lord—”

“Mama,” interjected Eve, “Lord Shaftesbury has been very kind. He intervened in an unfortunate situation—”

The Marquess gently squeezed Eve’s elbow in a warning gesture. “I was happy to be able to assist your daughter, Mrs Leighton,” he said, bowing. He raised his quizzing glass and peered down at Lydia. “So this is the divine younger sister I have heard so much of?”

Eve, watching him intently, felt her heart sink; the inevitable would happen now he had met her ravishing sibling. What man could fail to be captivated by Lydia’s sparkling blue eyes, perfect complexion and black-as-night hair?

“Yes, indeed.” Mrs Leighton’s bosom swelled with pride.

“Reports of your beauty have not been exaggerated, Miss Lydia. You look charming.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“I am sure it will not be long before you secure a brilliant marriage.”

“It is kind of you to say so,” said Lydia, giving a coy glance from under her lashes.

He smiled, bowed again and said, “I wish you good fortune in your search, but I am engaged to escort your sister back to the ballroom so, if you will excuse us, I intend to fulfill my obligation.”

Lydia’s face fell at this obvious snub to her charms, and Eve’s mother, crestfallen that Lord Shaftesbury had not instantly succumbed to Lydia’s beauty, sought to salvage something from the situation. Clearly she did not intend to let a Marquess slip through her fingers.

“Wait a moment!” cried Mrs Leighton, as he began to lead Eve away. “I believe you have compromised my daughter by arranging to meet her in the garden, Lord Shaftesbury. What say you to that?”

“You are mistaken, Mama,” said Eve. “The Marquess did not arrange to meet me and his behaviour has been entirely honourable.”

“His reputation would suggest otherwise,” observed Mrs Leighton curtly. Addressing Lord Shaftesbury again, she said, “Sir, I demand you offer marriage to my daughter.”

Both Eve and Lydia gasped, but the Marquess merely drawled with amused nonchalance, “Do you indeed?”

“Mama!” Eve was horrified that her mother was trying to blackmail Lord Shaftesbury into a marriage proposal. “What are you saying? Don’t embarrass us any further!”

“Let me handle this,” hissed Mrs Leighton. “Lord Shaftesbury, if word of this assignation gets out, my daughter’s reputation will be ruined. You must rectify the situation in the only way possible – by marrying Eve.”

“But Mama, that is not fair! She will be a marchioness—” began Lydia, until Mrs Leighton waved her impatiently to silence.

Still looking amused, the Marquess said, “Madam, having had the pleasure of conversing with Miss Leighton, I must—”

“Shaftesbury!”

Conversation came to a halt as Lady Draycott’s furious cry rent the night air.

“Where
have
you been? I declare I am chilled to the bone! Having arranged to meet me in the Greek temple, it is shameful behaviour on your part to keep me waiting, my lord!” Bristling with indignation, Celeste Draycott marched over, giving the Leightons a dismissive glance.

Eve watched her mother, whose change in expression was so sudden as to be comical. Her mouth had fallen open in disbelief and her eyes had nearly started out of her head following Lady Draycott’s appearance. She could no longer hope to claim the Marquess intended to meet Eve when he had clearly arranged to meet Lady Draycott instead.

“My apologies, Lady Draycott, but, as you see, I had completely forg— That is, something occurred to keep me from our appointment,” he said. “Allow me to take my leave of these ladies and I will explain everything.”

He bowed to Mrs Leighton and Lydia before turning to Eve.

He kissed her hand and then gave her a wry little glance, saying sadly, “I suspect that your opinion of me has changed now, my dear.”

Eve shook her head. “No, sir,” she said with quiet authority. “And it never will. I still think you the best of men.”

Affronted, Mrs Leighton stared at Lord Shaftesbury and Lady Draycott. “Well! It seems there is nothing more to be said. I wish you good evening, sir! We are returning to the more convivial company in the ballroom.” She pursed her lips in disapproval, put up a hand to straighten her turban and strode off, urging Lydia to hurry.

Drawing the cloak about her, Eve turned to follow. Then she paused and looked over her shoulder at the Marquess. Lady Draycott was already threading her arm through his, but he was watching Eve.

Unsure how to respond, she gave a wistful half-smile before walking back to the house.

“What a disastrous evening,” wailed Mrs Leighton, as their carriage rumbled slowly down the driveway and away from Rookery End. “The Earl of Halstead failed to come up to scratch and propose to Lydia, and you let a Marquess slip through your grasp, Eve!”

“Mama, I have told you three times – there was never the slightest danger of the Marquess proposing,” explained Eve wearily. “He did not arrange to meet me. He did me a great service, for which I will always be grateful.”

“However you came to be with him by the lake, you should have made the most of the opportunity!”

“I will not coerce a man into marriage.”

“You are a deal too nice in your requirements, my girl,” snapped Mrs Leighton. “Don’t blame me if you end up an old maid!”

“Well, I am glad he did not offer for Eve,” said Lydia. “How embarrassing if she had secured a marquess when I could not catch a mere earl. Besides, Shaftesbury is a notorious rake – I might be able to manage a man like that, but Eve could not.”

“I would not wish to manage him, only to love him,” said Eve, staring out of the carriage window. “Despite his reputation, he seemed lonely.”

Lydia tittered and rolled her eyes. “Nonsense, Eve! A rake cannot be lonely and they rarely change their ways. They have no heart.”

“No, I suppose not,” murmured Eve.

While her mother and sister began discussing the next move in their quest to find Lydia a rich and titled husband, Eve contemplated her future.

As soon as she had found a suitable post, she would pack her bags. Life would not be easy from now on, but what other option did she have when her situation at home was unbearable?

How ironic that the only man she had ever desired was an infamous rake. Eve was glad the gloomy interior of the carriage hid her blushes; she had always prided herself on being more sensible than her mother and her sister, but this evening she had committed the ultimate folly and fallen for a rake.

And yet she truly believed he had a good heart. He had rescued her from Sir Ralph when he could have left her to her fate, and she had detected loneliness behind his nonchalant manner. Eve knew that emotion too well herself not to recognise it in the Marquess. She had glimpsed the warm, kind man behind the profligate reputation, and oh, she could love him, if only he would be himself rather than the libertine society expected! But such dreams were pointless; Lydia was right to say that rakes rarely reformed and Eve could never marry a rake.

Berating herself for her stupidity, she became aware of the drumbeat of approaching hooves. An imperative demand that the driver stop or suffer the consequences followed and the coach creaked to a violent halt.

“Footpads!” squeaked Mrs Leighton, pushing back her turban which had slipped over one eye.

“We are not out of the driveway yet, Mama,” observed Eve. “It is most likely a servant with a message from the Earl. Perhaps he has decided to offer for Lydia this evening after all.”

The sound of raised voices outside was followed by the door being wrenched open. However it was not a servant’s face which appeared out of the gloom, but the darkly handsome features of the Marquess of Shaftesbury.

“Mrs Leighton, forgive the intrusion, but I must speak to your daughter. In private. It is a matter of the utmost urgency.” Lord Shaftesbury held out his hand to Eve, inviting her to step out of the coach.

Eyes wide with shock, Eve stared at him. It was only when he smiled and she caught the pleading uncertain look in his eyes that she came to her senses.

She allowed him to help her down the steps and lead her a little way from the coach. In the light from the flambeaux illuminating the drive, Eve noticed the horse he had used to pursue the carriage. Sweating and lathered around the mouth, the mare was grazing nearby, but she had not been saddled and it appeared he had ridden the animal bareback.

Following the direction of her gaze, he said, “I took the first horse I found in the stables. I did not want to waste time saddling up and lose you in the process.”

“Lose me?” she murmured, looking up into his face.

His fingers curled around the top of her arms and he swallowed hard. “How can I afford to lose my life?” he said, in a hoarse, urgent whisper. “Dear God, it’s you, Eve.
You
are the one and I knew it the moment we met. I love you, Eve Leighton. Will you marry me?”

Incredulous, Eve gaped at him. “W-What?”

“I asked you to marry me, Eve. I love you!”

Her lips trembled; it was cruel of him to tease her this way. “You can’t mean it,” she murmured.

“I do, with all my heart.”

“B-But where is Lady Draycott? When I left, you were with her … you were going to the Greek temple together–”

He shook his head. “As soon as you had gone, I told her I had made a mistake. She wasn’t pleased, but I didn’t care because my only thought was to get back to you.” His grip tightened and there was a catch in his voice as he said, “Eve, you
must
listen! I sensed you were different the first time I saw you. It may sound fanciful, but I saw my future in your eyes. I know that I’m not worthy. I’m not as bad as my reputation, but I don’t like the man I have become – in truth, I’m ashamed of him. But I swear I will do better, if only you will agree to marry me. You are as vital to me as the air that I breathe and my life is worthless without you.”

“But I can’t marry a rake” whispered Eve. “It would break my heart to know you bedded other women.”

“There will be no other but you from now on, love, I swear it. Do you think you could learn to love a man like me, a man with a dissolute reputation and a wretched past?”

When Eve saw that his eyes were moist and heard the desperation in his voice, tears welled under her own lashes and ran down her cheeks. “Oh, yes! Yes! But you can’t love me – we’ve only just met! And besides, I’m not beautiful like Lydia, or rich, or graceful–”

He silenced her with a passionate kiss. “Eve, there are three reasons why you must marry me,” he murmured, moments later.

She looked at him through her tears. “What are they?

“First, I must make you a marchioness so I can witness your mother’s astonishment, and your sister’s envy,” he said, with a glimmer of amusement.

She gave a watery smile. “A pleasant thought, but not enough to base a marriage on. What is your second reason?”

“That is simple and the most important of all – because I love you.”

“How can you be so certain?

“I knew it from the instant I looked into your face. I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Eve – you are my here and now, my tomorrow, and my forever.”

Eve stared at him wonderingly, and then shook her head in disbelief. “This is utter madness and yet you have almost convinced me. Tell me the third reason.”

“My name.”

“Lord Shaftesbury? What has that to do with anything?”

“Not my family name – my first name.”

Her brows drew together in puzzlement. “But—” she began. Then, her frown cleared and she started to giggle. “Oh no, don’t tell me—”