Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Ezekiel Marston stepped back into the ballroom with a calm facade, the entire family attempting to make it look as though nothing had happened, as though the safety of Evangelina Acharya was not in absolute danger at that very moment from a madman calling himself her father. It was all Zeke could do not to wring his hands and hover over the young lady like a fussy old woman. Despite what he had told Evangelina, it was, in fact, a very strong possibility that the Earl would get exactly what he wanted. The man was powerful, the sort who had power not because he had won friends, but because he held information about powerful people, and that was the sort it was hardest to face. They were men of the shadows, of backroom agreements and underhanded dealings.

Zeke was no stranger to a life of debauchery; the unorthodox lifestyle of the artists and poets, the painters and lovers, the singers and composers, actresses and kept men and women alike, they had their share of wild nights. Alcohol and sex were the least of their sins, smoke-filled opium dens and orgiastic revelry had not shocked Zeke when he experienced it. But the Earl was different. At the parties Zeke attended, everyone was a consenting adult there to indulge, enjoy themselves, in ways they understood and wanted. The Earl and his ilk had different tastes, darker things, harmful things. Zeke didn’t know specifics, but he knew some of the names who ran in the same circles. Peers, powerful voices in Parliament, men with the ear of the Queen, all who had something to lose if the Earl decided to play a hand against them.

Evangelina was in a great deal of danger, undoubtedly. The Earl would likely want Evangelina for a reason, and Zeke said as much to his elder brother as they moved through the crowd, smiling and trying to look nonchalant. Rowan nodded to his brother.

“I am sure we can find out why,” said Rowan smoothly. “I’ll dispatch someone on it.”

Zeke nodded back at that. He expected it was some debt incurred by the Earl; what else did men such as he worship but money and influence? And the Earl hoped to pay it off using his own flesh and blood, apparently. Zeke could have killed the man where he stood when he’d seen him, and that thought managed to lodge itself deep in Zeke’s mind. He glanced at his brother. Could they do it? Could he and Rowan truly end a man’s life? The man deserved it, after hurting Callista the way he had, threatening Samira, and now trying to take Evangelina. They would be doing the world a favor by ridding it of such a man.

And yet, the thought turned his stomach. Zeke was a pacifist to his bones. He admired soldiers and protectors, but he had read too much and felt too much to end the life of another. Life, he believed, was sacred, and it was beautiful, and every human had good in them. Everyone could be redeemed, but that could only happen in life. Snuffing out that flame was sacrilege to everything he believed in, yet for the Earl, he could almost make an exception.

Zeke shook his head. What were principles if they fell apart as soon as they were threatened? And would he balk if someone else did it? Zeke doubted it, and that hypocrisy was just too acute for him at the moment. He needed air.

Zeke made his way out of the house and to a spot that he’d been coming to since he was a child. There was a great oak tree with a long bench swing tied to a thick branch. He sat down on the swing at the center, bracing his hands on the long plank on either side of him. Dragging his boots along the grass beneath his feet, he thought of himself as a little boy, when he was too small to get up on his own and Rowan had to help him. Then, years later, when he would help up Ariana, then Callista. And little Joel and Thalia, who were not so little anymore. He smiled at the memories, closing his eyes and letting the night welcome him.

There was something truly glorious about being alive, and he liked to remind himself of that when he was in a state of flux and confusion. Even when everything seemed hopeless or dangerous or impossible, there was always something to latch onto and find glorious.

“I thought I’d find you here,” said Callista, whom he had not heard approach with her silk slippers on thick grass.

Zeke scooted over to make room for his sister on the swing. “Well, you have.”

Callista hopped up, kicking off her slippers to let her stockinged feet brush the ground. Callista had never been worried about convention, and it led to her behavior being at times rather outrageous, but they two had always found a bit of a kinship in that. Callista often scandalized and always exhausted their mother; Zeke had done the same to their father every day until he died. From above them, Zeke was sure his father was still scandalized and exhausted by his second son, who shirked the traditional trappings of masculinity that Rowan had always worn so easily. Zeke wasn’t a very good spare, he knew, but there had never been any doubt that Rowan would marry, sire children. The man was born to be Viscount, to be a husband and father, even if he’d raked about a bit as a young man. And if worst came to worst, Zeke could be Viscount for whatever time was necessary, then pass it onto Joel or one of his sons.

It wasn’t that Zeke didn’t want a wife and children, it was just that he personally doubted his ability to do it well. But he had always been able to do anything he set his mind to, so perhaps it was just a matter of the right motivation. He’d picked up sculpting a few years before with a wild fervor, deciding it was an unacceptable hole in his artistic abilities. Now, he was genuinely impressive at it. That Marston stubbornness, it was, and most time, it served him well.

“Wild, all this about Evangelina,” said Callista.

Zeke nodded. “We have to figure out how we’re going to protect her. She cannot be left to that man’s designs.”

“Agreed,” Callista heaved a sigh. “What a world we live in when a man can just snap his fingers and upend a woman’s life. He’s never been part of her existence, never cared for her a day in her life, but when he says, she has to do, simply because he is the one who sired her. How can a woman be treated as property rather than a person?”

Zeke shook his head, staring into the middle distance. He had never really thought of it before, what it must be like to feel so utterly powerless. He’d heard Callista talking about it many times, of course, and he had sympathized, but he had never really put himself in the place of a woman. In Evangelina’s shoes, in this case. He was shocked she was even still standing; remarkable woman. But then, most women were facing something similar, if not usually so dramatic. Was this how most women felt just walking around every day?

“And it’s no different with a husband,” Callista clicked her tongue. “They have just as much authority, and –”

“No they don’t,” Zeke cut her off.

She looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “Yes, they do.”

“They have more,” Zeke spoke slowly then. “The authority of a husband over a woman supersedes that of her father.”

Callista narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes…”

Zeke jumped up then, filled with a sudden clarity and motivation that reminded him of when he was seized with the idea for a project in his studio. He had to put it in action as soon as possible, or it would consume him. As soon as he left the bench, Callista squeaked, unbalanced from the swing built for two, nearly crashing to the ground.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded as Zeke helped her off the unsteady seat.

“I have to find Rowan,” Zeke called behind him, not waiting for her as she shoved her feet into her slippers, crushing the silk backs with her heels in her haste.

The party had wound down by several degrees, and the Marstons were bidding adieu to their last guests by the time Zeke found his mother.

“Darling,” said Lady Marston, clasping her second son’s forearm. “Where have you been?”

“Thinking,” he said simply. “I need to talk to Rowan. Do you know where he is?”

She looked at him hard, as if trying to read his thoughts but, finding that impossible, gave up. “He went back to his study with Samira.”

Zeke nodded and went quickly there. He pushed his way into the study without a second thought, finding his brother and his fiancee huddled close together, faces inclined toward each other, in what seemed a perpetual state of pre- or post-kiss. It was as if they never did anything else with themselves but want each other, as if they never wanted to do anything else but be in each other’s orbit. A twinge went through Zeke, something hollow and resonant like a struck bell.

“Apologies for interrupting,” said Zeke as Samira slipped from Rowan’s arms to stand at a more respectable distance.

“What’s going on Zeke?” Rowan demanded, bracing his hands on the desk. “Has something else happened?”

Zeke cleared his throat. No, not yet, but he was fairly sure it was about to. “I have a solution.”

Evangelina had always thought she would like a great fuss made over her. She thought she would enjoy having maids to primp her hair and dress her, bathe and perfume her, staff to cater to her whims, cook the food she wanted, take her wherever she wished to go. But as the house emptied of partygoers and left only the Marstons and the Acharyas, Evangelina found she rather hated being the center of such attention. Deirdre Marston insisted they all stay at the house for the night as they would certainly be discussing these important matters. Servants flew into action at a word from their lady, readying rooms for the three women. Evangelina felt conspicuous, and at the moment, all she wanted to do was disappear.

A ball of anxiety took up residence in Evangelina’s belly. Ezekiel had sounded very sure that things would be all right, but what if they weren’t? What if they couldn’t protect her and her so-called father was able to take her? What did he even want with her? And worse, what if it led to pain and suffering for the rest of them? Evangelina could just see Samira doing something brash and dangerous, and while Evangelina had never seen any evidence that the Viscount could or would be violent, she found she could not discount it as a possibility when those he loved were at risk. Evangelina knew Rowan Marston would move mountains for Samira, and that extended to protecting her family. What if he challenged the Earl to a duel? Evangelina could not stand something like that to be on her account; she would not let it stand. If it came to her safety or that of those around her, she would slip away from them and give herself up to the Earl. There was no question.

Soon, she, her mother, Lady Marston, as well as Joel and Callista Marston, were rejoined by Zeke, Rowan, and Samira. The Marquis and Marchioness had retired, the Marchioness looking nearly asleep on her feet, but the Marquis of Conway had promised any assistance he could lend. It made Evangelina a little dizzy, to have the promise of help from a Marquis, even if he had not promised it directly to her and more to his brother-in-law.

The looks on the faces of the three who had just entered were inscrutable. However, there was something strange in the set of Zeke’s shoulders, the intensity of his gaze when it fixed on Evangelina, that set every hair in her body standing on end. Zeke came toward her, barely sparing a look to either side of him until he reached her.

“Miss Evangelina, if I might, I would talk to you in private,” he said.

Evangelina rose from her seat. “Of course. What is going on?”

Zeke held out an arm, indicating her to step forward. She moved around the settee on which she had been perched, and Zeke led her toward a small, upholstered bench at one end of the long room. They were a good distance from the others, but they were certainly not alone. Still, awareness prickled along Evangelina’s arms and heat tinged her cheeks as they sat beside each other.

“Miss Evangelina,” said Zeke quietly, addressing her formally despite his early declaration they should be more casual in their interactions.

She stiffened a little, not sure what to expect, but he offered up a sweet smile that lessened the coil of nerves and fears inside her. Zeke was an easy person to be around, and that was a joyous thing. He had been easy since their first meeting, when he had been her partner for the word game his little sister invented, since they had won it together because their minds seemed to align. He had been easy when they’d gone on a walk through the moonlit gardens, as he pointed up at the constellations and named a few. Evangelina loved astronomy, but it had only ever been a theoretical practice for her, squinting from her books to the smoggy London skies to try and make out a few of the brightest stars.

Reaching out and laying her hand between his, Zeke gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “I know that things seem rather difficult at this moment, with the Earl, and please let me express my heartiest apologies that you have to go through it.”

Evangelina swallowed hard. “Thank you, Mr. Marston.”

“But you should not have to suffer it alone,” he said.

She shifted the angle of her body a little more toward him. “I am not alone, sir. I have my mother and my sister, and the generous support of your family.”

Zeke hesitated. “Indeed. But your relationships, as they stand now, do not protect you as others might. As another might.”

Evangelina wetted her lips. “What do you mean, sir?”

“As an unmarried woman, your father has some claim to you, even if he has not had any role in your life previously,” said Zeke. “But if you were married, you would…”

“Belong to the man I’d wed instead of the man who sired me?” Evangelina’s eyes sparkled slightly with the intensity of her feeling.

Zeke smiled a little. “Yes, I’m afraid. But I would like to offer myself for that position, as your husband.”

Evangelina’s pulse raced. So close to such a man, her hands in his, his offer to wed her, it made her mind spin.

“I hope you would consider me a better alternative than the Earl,” said Zeke a little dryly.

“Of course,” Evangelina said, unhesitatingly.

“Good then,” Zeke nodded. “So, how do you feel about this?”

“I thank you, sir, for your very kind offer, but I would never dream of putting you in such a position–” started Evangelina.

Zeke raised his hand to still her protestations. “Please. I would be reaching far above myself to have a wife like you, Miss Evangelina, so do not refuse on my account. And I would be most pleased to be your husband. I think we would do well together, but I understand that you likely need some time to think things over.”

Evangelina felt a swell inside her chest at the praise, and she squeezed his hand lightly. “I thank you, Mr. Marston, for your generous offer. I shall think on it.”

This was utter madness. Time was the least of what she needed. Evangelina needed a drink, even though she’d never really had one before. She needed air and distance and needed him to stop looking at her like that with his eyes so blue that made her want to throw her arms around him and accept his offer without a moment’s thought or hesitation. But this was no small thing he had asked, and as the saying went: marry in haste and repent at leisure.

“So,” he said quietly. “Now all that formality is done, are we back to Zeke and Eva?”

Evangelina smiled, a little relieved to know why he had changed tones so dramatically. He was attempting to do her honor, and it brought pleasant heat to her cheeks.

“Yes, Zeke,” she said, their hands still clasped.

His fingers were strong, his palms wide and warm, his grasp reassuring. Evangelina wondered what his touch would be like on her cheek, what his kiss would be, and a new blush unfurled on her cheeks. She should not be wondering such things, not with him so close. What she wondered when she lay her cheek against her cool pillow at night was something else altogether, but here, with him, Evangelina could not let herself get so distracted.

“I wish I could have done justice to it more,” Zeke confessed. “A ring. One knee. A starlight night. Maybe even a string quartet, or a dancing bear.” When she gave him an odd look, he smiled. “Something to make it memorable.”

Evangelina laughed a little. “It is already memorable, Zeke. In my hour of greatest need, you have offered me a path to salvation. I can think of nothing more memorable, and nothing more heroic, than that.”

His expression softened abruptly at her words, his lips parting, his eyes searching her face. She blushed even deeper, hating it, hating how it made her seem so young and foolish. Quickly, Evangelina ducked her face to hide the heat, then rose to her feet.

“I think I should talk to my mother and sister, and retire,” said Evangelina, fighting for some sense of austerity, of grace, when she felt like she was about to crumble. “It is quite late.”

“Of course,” Zeke offered her his arm. “And it has been a most taxing day.”

Evangelina tacitly agreed as they rejoined the group. She liked the feel of standing next to someone so tall and broad as Zeke; it made her feel small and very safe, and she needed the feeling of safety then more than she needed her bed, more than food or water, more even than the air in her lungs. He was, at this moment, her haven. Was that enough for a marriage? Many had been based on far less, but many based on more had been lived and regretted.

Everyone seemed to be waiting with bated breath when the two of them returned. Zeke remained silent, obviously allowing Evangelina to tell what she would to whomever she wished. She might have thought better of it if she hadn’t been so tired, but at the moment, full and unequivocal honesty was the only thing Evangelina had energy for.

“Mr. Marston has kindly made me an offer of marriage, but has also requested I take a bit of time to weigh my options and think things over,” Evangelina said. “I am immensely grateful for the compliment he has paid me and the security he has offered; I have agreed to consider things.”

Samira looked to the Viscount. “How long do you think she has?”

Rowan drew in air, contemplating. “If the Earl plans to go through the courts, then I cannot imagine him being able to get anything moving in less than a week. He is influential though…so three days perhaps?”

“I will have given my answer before then,” stated Evangelina, praying her voice didn’t shake.

“And we will continue to think of solutions,” Samira reached out and rubbed Evangelina’s shoulder.

“I don’t want any of you to go anywhere alone, or even with the three of you,” Rowan said to the Acharya ladies in his Viscount tone that would not be opposed, even by Samira, who Evangelina had seen oppose him often enough, and to impressive effect. “You must always keep at least one of us, or some footmen, with you.”

“Why?” asked Evangelina. If she was to have a permanent shadow, she would need to know the reason.

Rowan seemed to hesitate a moment, exchanging a glance with Samira as though for permission. Some unseen communication occurred between them, and Rowan went on. “I am not sure that the Earl would not do something nefarious, such as kidnapping. I do not want to give him the chance, if that is his plan.”

“I see,” said Evangelina softly.

The knot in Evangelina’s stomach had turned into a rock. A boulder. A meteor. She stole a look at Zeke, to whose arm she still clung, but he was looking at his brother. If the Earl was so desperate that he might resort to kidnapping…Evangelina needed to talk to someone who would tell her the plain truth. Her eyes stole around the circle – they would all lie to protect her, every last one of them. Everyone except, perhaps, Callista Marston.

“Chintu,” Samira said, reaching out and touching her younger sister’s shoulder.

“I am all right, Samira, really,” Evangelina fixed the expression on her face to be, if not exactly cheery, then certainly more optimistic. “Really. I understand the stakes, and I can face them. But now, I am rather tired. I would like to go to bed.”

“Come with me,” Lady Marston sprang to her feet. “I will show you all up to your rooms.”

With that, Evangelina was swept up in the current. Luckily, she found herself walking up the stairs beside Callista. Evangelina hissed quietly:

“Meet me back in the library in an hour.”

Callista nodded shortly. Lady Marston showed Samira to her room, then their mother, who left Evangelina with a kiss to her forehead.

“I can come see you if you like,” said Patrice Acharya.

Evangelina shook her head. “I just want to sleep. I am well. I will talk to you in the morning.”

Patrice squeezed her daughter’s hand and went into her room.

“And here, for you dear,” Lady Marston opened the door and ushered Evangelina inside.

It was a beautiful room, bigger than the majority of the lower floor of Evangelina’s house. There was a grand, ornate bed, the bed itself nearly the size of the room in which she’d slept her entire life. Evangelina’s stomach flipped. If she married Ezekiel Marston, this would be the kind of life that would accompany it. Not exactly, since this was the Viscount’s home, and Zeke was a second son, but it would be fine and grand. He was very worldly, and she was…incredibly not.

Evangelina turned to her hostess, smiling warmly. “Thank you, Lady Marston.”

“Oh, darling girl, call me Deirdre,” she nodded warmly. “I’ll have one of Thalia’s nightgowns brought up for you. She’s about your size.”

Evangelina was shorter and busier than the lithe, graceful youngest daughter of the house, so she hoped the gown would be all right, but she was immensely grateful for the hospitality of the Marstons.

“Lady Marston?” asked Evangelina.

“Dierdre, please,” she reminded, smiling softly. “Or simply call me Mama. I have so many children, sometimes it seems nearly everyone does.”

Evangelina laughed a little, her throat tightening at the kindness. They were all so very kind that it almost answered the question that had been on the tip of her tongue. Still, she was not quite sure how to give voice to it. Deirdre clasped hers and Evangelina’s hands together, leaning a bit closer.

“I know this must be a very terrifying time for you, my dear, and I want you to know that all of us will support and care for you, no matter what you choose,” she said with a firm, loving conviction that wrapped itself around Evangelina’s heart. “And believe me when I say that you are already a member of this family, but if you choose to become even further tied to us, I will be very glad of it.”

Relief washed over Evangelina. She knew Dierdre liked her, but it was another thing altogether to be reassured thus.

“Now,” said Dierdre maternally. “Get some sleep. We have much to do, and we will leave for the country soon.”

No sooner had the woman left when another tap sounded at the door. Samira entered, carrying a tea tray with all the trappings of the chai from their homeland the younger sister had never seen. Evangelina found herself lulled and comforted by the familiarity, the conversation, the company. They talked about nothing for some time, tactfully avoiding the situation at hand. Samira oiled Evangelina’s hair, telling her stories of Ganesha and Kubera, of Krishna’s coin, stories from her childhood that felt soothing and familiar.

“How are you feeling?” asked Evangelina after some time. “Shouldn’t you be resting after you fainted?”

Samira compressed her lips. “I feel well now.”

Evangelina turned to face her sister fully. “Is it just the shock that did that to you?”

Samira heaved an immense sigh. “The doctor thinks I may be with child.”

Evangelina gasped. “Sam! Do you really think you are?”

“Rowan is convinced,” she shrugged. “I do not know. I think, perhaps yes, then perhaps no?”

“Are you happy to be?” Evangelina asked. “If you are?”

Samira beamed. “Nothing makes me happier than the idea that I may be carrying Rowan’s child.”

Evangelina blushed at her next question. “Sam, do you mean that you and the Viscount…anticipated your vows?”

“Well, since you may become a married woman soon,” Samira’s blush matched her sister’s. “Yes.”

Evangelina squealed, snatching up her sister’s hands. “Was it everything you always dreamed it would be?”

Samira leaned close, her eyes bright. “And more.”

Evangelina leapt up, twirling around the room. She was so pleased to have something to be happy about. Her sister had found the fairy tale of which Evangelina had always dreamed, and she could not be more overjoyed for her. And there would be a baby! A child to love and squeeze and spoil, who would call her Aunt Eva! Really, it was a dream come true for them all.

“Rowan is happy as well, about the child?” Evangelina asked, finally deciding to stop spinning and dancing about when she got a little dizzy.

“He is,” Samira smiled. “But we must remember, it is only one possibility, and the only reason the doctor thought it might be that is because I swooned, and I do not usually do that.  It would be so early, it may only be the strain of everything.”

Evangelina was immediately stricken that her very existence was causing so much pain for the people she loved most. But Samira saw her reaction and instantly stilled her.

“No, Chintu,” Samira said. “The wedding planning, the balls, everything, has been a great deal. This business with the Earl has been a long time coming. I think he and I and Rowan have had this as a date with destiny for weeks now. Years, for me.”

Evangelina chewed her lip. “What has he done that is so horrible?”

Samira sighed heavily. “It will not do you any good to worry about it. We will not allow him what he wants, and that is that.”

“But why does he want me?” demanded Evangelina.

Samira shook her head. “Who is to say, Chintu?”

Her older sister stood and leaned down to kiss Evangelina’s head. “Now, go to sleep and we will sort all of this out in the morning. A clear head and a good night’s rest is always necessary when facing difficult choices.”

Evangelina nodded and watched her sister walk out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts and questions. But not, Evangelina determined, for long.