Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

The young couple walked down a lane beside the father and daughter, learning a bit about each other as they went. The DeRoche’s asked gentle, unassuming questions; they did not mention the travelers’ disheveled look, or that Zeke was in a bloody sling. Evangelina was fully aware that she and her husband could have been greatly judged by this pair. It would have been no leap to assume there were nefarious dealings having to do with a man who’d been wounded and a woman not exactly fitting with the local populus. Still, the hospitable pair treated them with kindness and respect. It warmed Evangelina to the depths of herself.

It was a short walk to a lovely, country home that was far smaller than Courtnay Park, the only other home of the like Evangelina had ever seen. But the place they approached was still quite large to Evangelina, and positively beautiful. It was two stories, likely with an attic, a charming stone facade half covered in ivy and vines, with a short, tree-lined lane leading up to the front door. It had an immaculately kept front garden and was plainly well loved and lived in.

“A gentleman scholar then?” asked Zeke, as Pierre described some of his work, primarily on botany.

Pierre seemed pleased by this title. “I’ve given a few lectures, published a few papers, but it’s a hobby more than anything. I’m a farmer by my blood, but my ancestors did well enough for me that the tools of my trade, with our historic interest in plants, are a microscope and a notebook rather than a plow and an almanac.”

They handed off the horses to a small, servant boy who Pierre explained did a great deal of odd tasks. They hadn’t a full stable, but the horses could bed down in the barn with the other animals. Pierre entered the house and with a few quick instructions to a kindly, efficient housekeeper, she vanished to get a meal ready.

“Now, Mr. Marston,” Pierre turned to Zeke. “I am no doctor, but let’s have a look at that shoulder, eh? Heloise, show Mrs. Marston to a room and help her ready for some lunch. We’ll meet you in the dining room in half an hour.”

Heloise nodded, giving her father an indulgent smile, and she looped her arm with Evangelina’s. “Forgive him. He means extremely well, but when he wants to impress people, he gets a bit bossy.”

Evangelina smiled, liking to see this exchange between father and daughter, one she had not had much opportunity in her life to witness. A wave of sadness washed over her, for herself and for Samira, even for Magnus, and for Zeke, who had his father, but whose relationship had been strained. He had not told her much, but she did not miss the telltale signs.

“You are very lucky to have someone who seems to care about you so much,” said Evangelina to Heloise.

“I am,” she brightened. “Since Mama died, he has been all my brother and I have, and we were blessed with a father who cares so very much.”

“You said he wants to impress us,” Evangelina said as they mounted the stairs. “It should be us trying to impress him. We are but weary travelers, and he is hosting us so kindly.”

Heloise shrugged. “Father has some peculiar ideas. He says sometimes he can look at a person and know their makeup, like he might with a plant, and he recognizes quality deeper than lineage or wealth. He recognizes goodness, and I know that if he had not seen that in the two of you, he would not have been so lavish with his praise. My father is never one to stand for injustice, but he plainly finds kinship with you and your husband.”

“I am grateful for it, for all the peculiarities,” said Evangelina as they turned down the hallway.

Heloise led Evangelina into a small but lovely guest chamber with a large window that admitted a great deal of light. Evangelina breathed deeply, possibly for the first time since everything had started not even two weeks ago. It was unthinkable that so much could change in so short a time.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Heloise said as she set out some soap by a bowl of water placed on the basin by a thoughtful servant. “You do seem to be in a spot of trouble.”

The young woman had a faintly Northern accent, and Evangelina found she liked the lilt. “I was kidnapped.”

Heloise’s eyes went wide. She had the most magnificently colored eyes Evangelina had ever seen, and set off with that pale skin and black hair, she was an unique beauty that was sure to continue blooming.

“By your husband?” she whispered.

Evangelina laughed. “No, no. Not Zeke. He rescued me. I was kidnapped by someone who wanted to marry me off for his own financial gain. But I was already married, and Zeke came to save me.”

Heloise clasped her hands over her chest. “Oh, how romantic! I can only dream of having such a romance one day.”

Evangelina dipped the cloth into the water and began to lather the soap on it. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen in three weeks,” Heloise said proudly.

Evangelina was a bit surprised – the girl’s looks leant older, but she had the eagerness of youth. An eagerness Evangelina recognized in herself, though, perhaps now she was more sage and worldly, given everything that had happened recently. Perhaps when this young woman looked at Evangelina, she sensed a deeper knowledge of life than she herself had, the same way Evangelina had always looked at Samira. Heloise had no sister and not even a mother any longer, only a brother and a father. She might need a womanly influence, and something sweet and thrilling rose up in Evangelina that she could be the one to provide that to this young lady.

“Well, you will have it one day, I am sure,” said Evangelina. “My advice to you is not to resist love when it comes your way. It may not look how you imagined, but what we are meant to do is not always what we expect.”

Heloise nodded gravely, taking Evangelina’s words as gospel. “You love your husband then?”

Evangelina blushed, and Heloise immediately began falling over herself to apologize.

“It’s all right,” Evangelina assured her. “We did not know each other well when we wed, and with everything that’s happened, we have not had a great deal of time to simply be together.”

“And that is important in falling in love?” asked Heloise. “I always thought it was a bolt of lightning and one simply knew, for forever and all time, that this person was the one you were meant for, the other half of your soul.”

“I am sure sometimes that is the case,” said Evangelina, thinking of the way Rowan had looked at Samira the first time he sat in their parlor. It had been love even then, even when neither would admit it. They were so stubborn, Evangelina wasn’t even sure they would admit it now that they’d fallen for each other at first sight, but Evangelina was convinced that was the case. “But I think more often, love grows. It needs to be nurtured and cared for, to be made into what it is. And being together, enjoying each other, respecting and appreciating each other, that is the structure that keeps a love, a marriage, alive.”

Heloise nodded, soaking in what she had been told. Evangelina scrubbed at the back of her neck, cleaning herself of the road grime as best she could.

“I shall leave you to ready yourself in peace,” Heloise hopped up. “Can you find your way back down or shall I come get you when luncheon is ready?”

“I think I can find it,” smiled Evangelina gratefully.

Heloise bobbed a little curtsey and darted out. Evangelina could not help but find the girl delightful, and she was quickly filled with thoughts of Samria. On the desk, she found a pen and some paper and scribbled a quick note to her sister. Soon, she found a servant who would dispatch it for her. Evangelina had been careful, saying she and Zeke were safe and well, but did not reveal all. She could fill Samira in once they returned home, but in case someone else intercepted it, read it, she did not want to give anything away.

By the time she entered the dining room, a veritable feast was laid out for them, and their hosts as well as Zeke stood up to greet her as she entered. Zeke, with his one arm freshly bandaged, moved and pulled out her chair beside him with the other arm.

“Thank you,” said Evangelina as she sat down at the table.

“Well,” said Pierre. “Let us say grace, and we shall eat.”

The pain seared at Zeke’s shoulder as Evangelina dabbed at the wound. He hissed, trying not to move or make too many signs of pain. It hurt worse even than it had when Pierre had cleaned it that afternoon, though he was almost sure Evangelina’s touch was gentler. And he was absolutely sure it was far more welcome.

“Sorry,” Evangelina hissed.

“It’s fine,” Zeke said through clenched teeth.

Pierre prescribed routine cleaning and changing of bandages when he’d looked at the wound.

“It’ll heal,” he’d said. “I’m not worried for that. It’s infection you have to be careful of. Make sure it’s cleaned often, and you’ll need to stay here a few days at the shortest, at least until it scabs over. Then there will be less chance of infection on the road.”

So Zeke and Evangelina had agreed to accept the DeRoches’ hospitality for a few days. Evangelina had told Zeke that she’d dispatched a note to her sister, well-worded, Zeke thought, as she was careful to reassure their siblings but not reveal anything in case it would put them or their hosts in danger. After lunch, both husband and wife had both dropped onto the bed and slept for hours until the maids rang and brought in a bath for Evangelina before dinner.

Zeke had stepped away then, exploring the library a bit until Evangelina was dressed. She had then gone out with Heloise to see the garden while there was still light, and Zeke washed himself and dressed as well. It was odd, how skittish they still were around each other when they were man and wife, when he had become hers and she his, the night before. God, was it only the night before? It was a lifetime, yet no time at all.

It made sense, Zeke reasoned. Everything between them had always been under such heightened circumstances that they did not know how to be around each other in soft, domestic ways. He wanted to avoid her as much as he wanted to devour her, and he assumed a similar contradiction in feelings was happening in Evangelina. So they went through dinner, talking politely with the DeRoches, who made for interesting company and a perfect distraction. Their hosts were pleasant, kind, and witty, adopting as much or as little of the burden of conversation as their guests seemed to want. They put others at ease, a skill Zeke could not help but value immensely in such a complicated time for himself and for Evangelina.

After dinner, he had taken a nightcap with Pierre and allowed Evangelina to ready for bed. It felt almost as skittish as their wedding night, strangely charged in ways Zeke wasn’t sure he yet understood. Evangelina, borrowing from the young Heloise, dressed in a simple, white nightgown. It was hardly a thing of seduction, but as soon as Zeke entered, seeing her in it was enough to turn his blood to fire.

She offered to clean his wound, and he had nearly missed her question, so distracted he was by her. Zeke could only nod dumbly in response. He was silent as Evangelina pushed him gently down to sit, then started tugging off his shirt. Wordlessly, Zeke lifted his arms, letting her divest him as though he were a child. The play of her fingers, her gentle ablutions, was maddening, even through the pain.

“There,” Evangelina dabbed at his arm, her fingers resting on the bare skin of his chest. “I think that’ll do it for tonight.”

“Thank you,” said Zeke, a bit hoarsely.

She moved away from him, taking the sweet, soapy scent with her. Zeke wanted to follow it, to follow her, as she moved back toward the basin and cleaned the cloth and her hands.

“I am sorry I didn’t come to your bed that first night we were married,” he said suddenly.

Evangelina dropped the cloth back into the water with a plunk. “Oh.”

Zeke cleared his throat. “I was scared. Everyone had gotten in my head. They said you were so young, that you needed to be gentled, that you weren’t ready. I knew better, though, because you’d told me. You told me with your words and your deeds, your eyes and your heart and your body…Eva, I should have listened, and I should have trusted us and what is between us, and I didn’t. For that I am eternally sorry.”

Evangelina breathed slowly, then stepped toward him. She braced her hands on his chest and stroked her fingers across his soft, warm, taut flesh.

“I am sorry I was so angry about things before I was taken,” Evangelina shook her head. “I was just so hurt. I will try to be more mature in the future.”

He let out a breathy laugh. “You were right to be angry with me. I wasn’t talking to you, and when I was frustrated, I talked to my art instead. For all my life, it’s been the only thing that truly heard me, listened to me when I didn’t know to whom I could turn. But it’s not the only place for me to call a haven any longer. I have you.”

Evangelina swallowed hard. “Do you mean that?”

“I do,” he whispered. “Fully, well and true.”

Smiling, Evangelina bent her head and kissed him softly. He sighed into her kiss, his hands twining in her hair, so thick and beautiful, silkily sliding in his grasp. Zeke winced at the pain in his arm, but that was quickly blotted out as her kisses moved along his cheek, to his freshly shaven jaw.

“I was so frightened today,” Zeke breathed in her skin. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“I knew you’d come for me,” Evangelina moved her body, pressing herself to him.

Zeke drew her closer, lifting her as she began to readjust, until she was on his lap, her legs on either side of his body, her nightgown sliding up her thighs as it bunched around her hips. His hands, broad, beautiful, skilled, danced up the silken landscape of her exposed flesh, then back down again in slow, easy rhythm. His eyes met hers, the black nearly touching the edges of his blue irises, his entire being humming with desire. Evangelina felt it in herself, the molten heat pooling low in her, settling between them where she could feel his ridge poised and ready, pressed tight to her.

“I am so sorry my love,” Zeke whispered, shaking his head as he looked away. “I’ve forgotten myself.”

Evangelina bit her lip, reaching out to take him by the chin. She moved his face to look at her again.

“Why are you sorry?” she asked.

He closed his eyes briefly. “I should not want what I want, not with what you have been through. It is beastly. I already have taken your virginity in a haystack, and now all my body wants is to have you again when you were kidnapped, brutalized, and nearly forcibly married today. I cannot want what I want.”

The corner of Evangelina’s mouth hitched up. “Oh? And what about what I want?”

Zeke leveled his gaze at her.

Evangelina went on. “My husband rode after me in a panic after his wife went missing. He was held at gunpoint, eventually shot, and escaped with me and his life – only barely – a mere few hours ago. He is still bleeding, and yet, I want him to do unspeakable things to me that will make me blush on the morrow. I want to be reminded in the deepest, truest way we have that we are alive and we are whole and we are one. Will you condemn me for that?”

Zeke swallowed hard. “I will not.”

Slowly, Evangelina stood up and extended a hand to him. “So you cannot condemn yourself.”

He breathed deep. “Your logic is sound, wife, but I find I am still stricken.”

Evangelina let a smile spread across her face. “Let me help with that.”

Zeke dropped his head, acquiescing to the will and surprisingly impressive seductive powers of his young bride as she simply asked for what she wanted. He put his hand in hers and she pulled him to his feet. Reaching up, Evangelina unfastened the ties at her shoulders, and the nightgown slipped from her skin in a single slide of pale fabric, revealing the delicious expanse of flesh beneath. He groaned as his eyes feasted on her in ways he hadn’t been allowed the night before. The candlelight danced off her skin, soft and brown and begging to be touched.

“Well?” Evangelina gave a little twirl, her masses of black curls flaring out as she spun.

“You’ve robbed me of my senses,” Zeke shook his head.

Smiling proudly, Evangelina stepped closer. “I had the prettiest garment that the modiste made me, all black lace and ribbons. I was going to wear it to try and seduce you.”

Zeke snorted. “All you had to do to seduce me was to breathe.”

Evangelina tugged at his breeches. “It certainly didn’t feel like it.”

“I was fighting the desire for you with everything that I had,” he confessed. “There was nothing I’ve ever wanted more in the world than to be with you in every way I could.”

Evangelina caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she slid the trousers from his hips. “What sorts of ways?”

“Hmm,” Zeke eyed her, pushing her hair off her shoulders to expose her to him from head to toe, searching his mind for every form of debauchery he wanted for his beautiful young wife. He did not have to hunt long, for such images were his at the ready. “I want to have you sit on my lap in front of a mirror while you ride me.”

Evangelina’s cheeks flamed, her response breathless. “I would get self conscious.”

“You’d be far too busy with other things,” his thumb brushed her lip, back and forth, and she shuddered.

“What else?” she whispered.

He cocked a brow. “You really want to hear?”

She nodded eagerly, and he smiled. His little wanton, and his wife. It was a dream come true.

“I want to push your legs until they’re over your head and bury myself inside you until you can take all of me,” Zeke pushed open her lips and slid his thumb between them, her tongue stroking the pad of his thumb until the pulse between his legs grew painful. “I want to bend you over a tabletop and hammer you senseless.”

Evangelina pulled her head back, staring up at him with her lips still parted. She glanced over her shoulder. “Well, there’s a rather sturdy-looking desk.”

His eyes flicked behind her. “So there is.”

Evangelina turned, still holding his hand and drawing him with her until they reached the fine bit of mahogany. Evangelina went to turn back to him, but he caught her hips and held her, pinning her between the desk and his own body. She gasped, slamming her hands down on the cool surface.

“Yes?” he asked.

She nodded as he pushed her hair off to one side, bending his head to kiss her neck. “Yes.”

“Spread your legs,” Zeke instructed, and she complied.

He dipped a hand between them and made a small sound of approval. Evangelina felt herself glow under his touch, his praise, his presence. She didn’t know what had made her so brave – she hadn’t even known people could make love outside a bed. Of course, it stood to reason now that she knew it, but Evangelina had not even thought of it previously. But that was why she was so glad to have Zeke; he knew, and she trusted. And something in her craved this kind of release, this wild abandon.

“Keep your hands on the desk,” Zeke told her. “You’ll need your balance.”

As soon as she complied, Evangelina felt him working at her, opening her, readying her. It was strange; she couldn’t see him, but it made the sensations even more acute. She was surprised constantly, never ready for whatever change he wrought. Evangelina gasped as sparks radiated up from his gently firm touch as he reached places inside her she didn’t know existed, as his soft teasing eased away her soreness and replaced it with pure sensation. And when he brought himself up inside her, she felt her knees weakening with the first thrust.

“That’s it,” he eased out, then back in. “Take me.”

Evangelina’s arms quivered as she began to bear the brunt of her weight, Zeke lifting her off her toes with each thrust. The rhythmic thumping of the desk against the wall was nearly as obscene as the sounds of flesh and loving that escaped from them. Zeke suddenly reached out and knocked her down to her elbows, thrusting her hips back and brushing the aroused peaks of her breasts against the cold surface of the wood.

“Are you all right?” he asked, more of a gasp than a question.

It made her feel beautiful and womanly, that he was so undone, that her spectacular husband, a man of the world, was falling apart with her. Evangelina made a sound of assent but could not form words. Zeke laughed, and Evangelina discovered that, if she squeezed strategically, she could cut that sound off in his throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

A surge of dark power shot through Evangelina, that she could exert control over this man who made her feel like a marionette when he took her in his arms. It was something new, and she wanted it.

“You’re playing with fire, dear,” he warned.

Zeke wrapped an arm around her waist, the other curving to cup her breast, ignoring the protests of his wound for the far more favorable sensation of having both his hands on her. He continued at the place of their joining, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Zeke drew her up, forcing her to arch to keep him seated inside her.

“Burn me then,” Evangelina managed, coiling herself around so that she could reach his mouth.

His lips descended, devouring hers as they began to writhe together. Zeke let one hand slip down the front of her, their bodies half-leaning against the desk, his fingers finding the edge of their union, the peak of her sensation, until she came apart in his arms. He hardly had to move, a delicate gyration that turned her bones to water. She cried out his name as she crashed down from the remarkable heights he brought her to, and Evangelina felt him quake behind her, like the earth itself moved between them.

And the dam broke. Whatever had held back all the emotions, the fear and the pain, the joy and the pleasure, the anger and the sorrow and the love, it shattered under the impossible weight of what was between them. A gasping sob erupted from Evangelina, and her body crumpled. Evangelina was in a haze of confused and devastating pleasure as Zeke picked her up and carried her toward the bed, murmuring to her as they went.

“I’m so sorry my love,” he whispered against her flesh, peppering her with kisses. “I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry.”

“Not–you–r–fault,” Evangelina managed between sobs. “It wasn’t–that. I just feel so…”

Zeke laid her down, tucked her in, and curled himself beside her. “It has been a great deal to contend with over the last few days.”

Evangelina nodded, feeling herself descend into the pit of emotion. She never allowed this, never let it overtake her, but here, she found she could not deny it, could not prevent it, and did not even wish to. In Zeke’s arms, she was safe to be as she was and feel as she did. She let it consume her. There was no fight left, nothing beyond the great tidal wave of everything she’d repressed. All the while, Zeke held her, stroked her hair, kissed her forehead. He spoke sweet nothings against her skin as though he could etch them into her soul with the repetition. She shook with the force of the feelings, one on top of another, over and over until she could not think straight. Evangelina gave herself up to it, no longer reaching, struggling, to keep her head above water. She let it drown her, not fighting the impossible, liquid rush but going with its current. As Zeke’s hands molded down her bare back, reaching up then to wrap them both in a blanket, cocooning them in warm safety, she realized she could breathe. Evangelina drew in a gasping breath, and Zeke squeezed her tighter to him. The waters moved around her body, not beating her down but letting her float, then beginning flow through her, on and on until she was washed clean by it.

Slowly, Evangelina’s tears subsided. Her body still shook with the power of all she’d felt, and eventually, she stilled in Zeke’s arms but for a small, deep quaking, like aftershocks.

“Feeling better?” Zeke asked, bending down to kiss her gently as the tears ceased, wiping her damp cheeks with his careful caress.

“Yes,” Evangelina said. “I am.”

“Good,” he tucked her against him, and she nestled against his side, spent and deeply pleased. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Evangelina whispered, sleep already threatening to overtake her. “You’ve given me everything I needed.”

A yawn wracked through her, and it was so precious that Zeke’s heart nearly shattered. What the hell had he done to her, this innocent? But she was so much more than that, he knew. He was not the child Samira had believed, nor the breakable work of art Zeke had perceived. She was certainly not the biddable chattel the Earl had expected. She was Evangelina, and she was his.

“Sleep, darling,” he petted back her hair. “My little warrior princess.”

She smiled dreamily. “My knight, my prince.”

Zeke watched her for long minutes as she descended into slumber, and for a good deal of time after. If he wanted to lie to himself, he could plead some kind of artistic interest in the objective beauty of her, but Zeke knew something far deeper, truer and more real, had taken up residence in his heart. It was a thing he was afraid to name, as naming it gave it power, but he knew he could no more run from it than he could run from Evangelina herself. She was a part of him now, and the feeling that exploded through him when he stared down at her, the adoration and tenderness, the desire and protectiveness, the affection and enjoyment, and everything so much more, that was part of him too.