Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Evangelina fidgeted as Rowan and Zeke exited the carriage ahead of their wives. The two pairs had made their way to the ball hosted by Ariane and Conway in one carriage, trying to enjoy themselves as much as they could on a night upon which so much hinged.

“Don’t fuss,” said Samira gently. “All will be well.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Evangelina called after her as Rowan handed Samira down from the carriage.

Zeke extended his hand and Evangelina took it, her own husband alighting her. They stepped into the night, the moon high and shining overhead, the walkway up the front steps lit up like day with all the candles. She had thought Courtnay Park was grand, but this was palatial. Good thing Ariane would be having a baby soon to help use some of the space, but even if they had a dozen, their family wouldn’t have filled a tenth of the size of the mansion.

“What do you think?” asked Zeke.

Evangelina shook her head in minor disbelief. “I think I’m quite glad we will not live in anything so immense. It cannot possibly be homey; like living in a museum.”

Zeke smiled at that. They had looked at a few houses to let over the last week, considering where they might want to live. They planned to go a bit closer to his studio, less fashionable but still respectable and, frankly, perfect from Evangelina’s perspective. Part of her would always miss that little house that kept her little family safe and warm and together, but she did not mind moving, especially now that her family was larger and changed. She would always love her mother and sister more than life, but Zeke was her heart and soul, and that she could never part from. Once Zeke and Evangelina found a place of their own, she thought it would be lovely to establish herself as the lady of the house. Her mother and Samira would always be nearby with help and advise, which would be an immense benefit.

“Well, shan’t want to be late for your own party,” Rowan smiled at his brother and sister-in-law as he stood with Samira on his arm. “Shall we?”

Samira hooked her other arm with Evangelina’s so the two couples walked four abreast. Evangelina leaned a bit closer to her big sister.

“Are you sure it will be well?” asked Evangelina, anxiety of an entirely different sort coiling through her like a vicious serpent. “What if I don’t fit in? What if they don’t like me?”

Samira squeezed her hand. “It will. Besides, you’re being toasted by a Marquis and Marchioness. You will be the envy of every young lady in attendance.”

Evangelina furrowed her brow. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Samira gave her hand an indulgent pat as they mounted the steps and prepared to enter the ballroom. Samira let Evangelina’s arm slip from hers and turned to her with a smile.

“This is where we leave you then,” Samira said. “I’ll see you soon. Chin up – you look wonderful.”

Evangelina nodded to her sister, and Rowan and Samira were off. They entered the ballroom with fanfare and the attendant calling out their names and titles as the notes of a waltz began.

“You’ve nothing to fret over, darling,” whispered Zeke. “You are the most beautiful woman here, and you have nothing to fear.”

She gave him a small, bashful smile. “Thank you.”

He cocked his head. “For speaking truth?”

“For everything,” Evangelina responded.

Reaching out, Zeke held her under the chin and lifted her to him. He sealed her mouth with his own, enveloping her in the familiar warmth, the sweet, heady taste, of her husband.

“I love you,” he told her.

Evangelina was too lightheaded with his touch, his kiss, his words, to feel the nerves any longer, and she suspected that was his precise plan. “I love you too.”

Zeke smiled at her, then turned toward the entry to the ballroom. “I do believe that is our cue. Come along, wife.”

Evangelina reveled in the title as he led her toward the ballroom, and as they swept along the entry, the music stopped. A flourish of trumpets sounded, and Evangelina could not help the blush that covered her from head to toe. They had talked about a bit of pomp and circumstance, but this was ridiculous.

“Presenting Mr. Ezekiel Marston and his wife, Mrs. Evangelina Marston,” said the attendant.

The room looked on, every eye in the place trained toward the guests of honor. Evangelina froze; should she smile or try to look serene? Should she move, or be still? Wave, curtsey; no, that would be foolish. After what felt an eternity, she saw the Marchioness of Conway moving through the crowd, and Evangelina was greatly relieved to have a place to focus and a friendly face to lay eyes on.

“My dearest brother,” the Marchioness offered her cheek for Zeke to kiss.

“My lovely sister,” he obliged. “You throw a helluva party.”

She beamed, her hand resting on her stomach as she glowed with maternal light. “I pride myself on it. I appreciate that you even wore a silver cravat for the occasion; the sparkles I suppose are ostentatious enough that you didn’t need orange and green paisley.”

“That was one time–” Zeke huffed, and Evangelina couldn’t help but smile as he fought his sister’s teasing to regain his composure. “Indeed, I decided to match my wife, whose taste is immeasurably more refined than mine own.”

At that, the Marchioness turned to Evangelina, eyes sweeping the gown, kind joy radiating from her gaze. “My, your husband does not exaggerate.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” said Evangelina, bobbing a curtsey she hoped was low enough.

They’d gone over it dozens of times in the Marston parlor, making sure she knew what went where and how to stand and how to speak and what fork to use. Samira seemed to come by it so naturally, something about having existed at the edges of the elite so long making her well poised to become a part of it. But Evangelina had not even seen so many forks in one place in her life, let alone imagined she could use all of them over the course of a single dinner.

And now she was thinking about forks and distracted, and thus missing what the Marchioness had to say.

“Apologies,” Evangelina murmured. “I did not quite hear–”

The Marchioness offered her hand in a signal of friendship, and Evangelina dropped her grip on Zeke’s arm to place both her hands with Ariane’s. “I was only reminding you that you must call me Ariane. We are family after all.”

“Of course,” Evangelina said.

That had been choreographed too, and for good reason. They wanted everyone to know that Evangelina had been welcomed to calling her sister-in-law by her first name, that it was a show of amity and not a breach of propriety.

“Come,” Ariane said. “Let us take a walk and I shall introduce you to a few people of note. You already know some of them from the engagement ball, but…”

Ariane began steering Evangelina away, and Evangelina glanced back at Zeke, who gave a small, reassuring nod.

“You two seem quite smitten,” observed Ariane.

Evangelina blushed deeper, a carnal crimson rather than a rosy tint of embarrassment. “We get on.”

“I am glad of it,” Ariane said. “I know things were a bit hasty, but you two seem a perfect fit.”

“Thank you for saying so,” Evangelina said. “I confess I did not know how your family would receive me, given my…background.”

Something flashed in Ariane’s eyes, something fierce and protective that made Evangelina deeply glad she was in league with the Marchioness instead of against her. “You are our family. We love you, and that is all you ever need know.”

Evangelina let the weight of that sink over her, and she nodded. “I wish everyone else were just as easy to please.”

Ariane patted her arm. “We’ll start with an easy one.”

The Marchioness introduced her sister-in-law first to George and Viola Watson, a baron and his lady wife, a striking and kind couple. The husband stated that his sister was about somewhere, but she was always finding herself in odd places and doing whatever she pleased. Evangelina envied her that a little. She met the Duke of Donwell, then Lady Jaquetta Thornsby, who could have frozen hellfire with the glance she could give down her nose. Thankfully, she did not turn the look on Evangelina, but instead offered her a half-interested sniff.

“That could have gone better,” said Evangelina under her breath.

“On the contrary!” Ariane said. “Lady Thornsby likes no one upon first meeting them, and she did not even insult you outright. That is surely a victory.”

Evangelina smiled a little, and Ariane’s light words seemed to ease a bit of the tension as she was introduced to another dozen people that she would be helpless to keep track of. She hoped she would not be forced to recall them anytime soon. Ariane had given her a trick of associating a person with something that connected one’s thoughts to their name. The first pair, the lady had been Viola, elegant and pretty, not as dainty and small as might a violin be. She was a perfect fit for the instrument. And the husband, George…like St. George who slew the dragon. By the time Evangelina had been introduced to the next people, she had spun an entire tale of love and joy, of heartbreak and great acts of heroism, that nearly kept this George and Viola apart. She certainly wouldn’t forget their names, but everyone else was now a far greater concern.

Perhaps Ariane saw the expression on Evangelina’s face when she realized she would not be remembering anyone but the first introduction when she spoke.

“Don’t be frightened, dear,” said the Marchioness with a great deal of poise. “You look beautiful and you’re making an absolute splash.”

Evangelina smiled weakly. “What if I don’t want to make a splash? What if I don’t even want a ripple? What if I just want to go quietly about so that no one notices me until it’s time to go home?”

"Don’t look now," Ariane rubbed her sister-in-law’s arm. “But I think it’s far too late for that.”

Evangelina looked up in horror, but she saw that it was Zeke who was coming toward her. All the air whooshed from her lungs as he strode across the room Lord, but she did love him. She loved everything about him, from the way he moved and stood and talked and laughed to the way art moved from his being like a sacred thing, the way he danced and was thoughtful, was kind and honest and good to the marrow of his bones. The way he cared for her and loved her as she loved him.

“I do think it high time I take my wife to the floor, do you not, sister?” asked Zeke, his eyes never leaving Evangelina’s.

“High time,” agreed Ariane.

Zeke took Evangelina’s hand and led her to the center of the room, the music swelling around them, seeming to draw them closer together. It was beauty and it was magic as they began their dance, and Evangelina managed to forget that everyone was watching them, so long as she was in Zeke’s arms.

Evangelina knew better than to slip from the crowd; she’d learned her lesson and learned it well. But she simply needed a break after dancing for the better part of two hours. There was not a man in attendance who did not want to dance with the guest of honor, though, Evangelina realized, it was for the favor it would curry with the Marquis and Marchioness. At least when she had been at Rowan and Samira’s engagement ball, a few of the men were interested in her as a martial prospect. Not that she would have traded the happiness and love she had with Zeke for any amount of popularity, or anything else for that matter, but at least being wanted as herself felt  like something. Now, she was just an accessory to everyone except her husband, whom she had not seen in some time.

Needing desperately some small reprieve, Evangelina procured herself a glass of lemonade and ducked behind a fern meant to add some color to the room but served extremely well as cover.

“Didn’t expect to see you over here with the wallflowers,” said a voice from behind the potted plant.

Evangelina nearly jumped out of her skin. A young woman of a height with Evangelina, lighter hair, and sharp, expressive eyes, emerged. She was sipping a glass of brandy and cast Evangelina a smile.

“I just…needed a break,” Evangelina confessed.

“You married Ezekiel Marston,” said the woman.

Evangelina nodded. “Yes. He is my husband.”

“You look to love him,” she said. “I saw you dance.”

Evangelina blushed.

“Apologies, I tend to overstep. My name is Elinor Watson,” she introduced herself.

“Evangelina A–Marston,” Evangelina caught herself. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You’re welcome to hide back here as long as you like,” Miss Watson offered. “It’s nice sometimes.”

Evangelina laughed. “Are you hiding from someone in particular? You don’t seem like a wallflower to me.”

Miss Watson shrugged. “I’m a wallflower by choice, I suppose.”

“Really?” asked Evangelina. “Why? If you don’t mind my asking.”

She simply shook her head. “Marriage isn’t for me.”

“Well, you would know your own mind and heart,” shrugged Evangelina. “But I promise I can advocate for the joys of it.”

Miss Watson nodded. “I am extremely glad to hear it.”

Just as Evangelina was opening her mouth to ask a casual question of her new acquaintance, the leaves of the plant were shoved back and Samira stepped through. She clasped Evangelina by the shoulders and looked her up and down.

“Goodness!” cried Evangelina. “What is the matter?”

“I lost sight of you,” said Samira. “And we thought perhaps you had gone off with Zeke, but–”

“You haven’t seen him?” Evangelina interrupted.

“Ezekiel? No, not for a little while,” Samira said.

Evangelina glanced back to the woman behind the fern. “Good evening, Miss Watson. A pleasure.”

Miss Watson made a reply that Evangelina did not catch as she walked quickly out of the secluded spot.

Samira followed close. “What is it, Chintu?”

Evangelina shook her head. “I’m not fully sure that I know, but I am surprised Zeke has not been closer. It is unlike him, in such a situation, to be gone for an extended period.”

Samira knitted her brow. “I think he went out for a smoke.”

Chewing her lip, Evangelina looked around the room. She spied Rowan, who was making his way toward them, she suspected more to be near Samira than her even though they were all on high alert that evening.

“Ladies,” he gave a nod as he approached.

“Have you seen Zeke?” Evangelina asked by way of answer.

He blinked. “Not for a while, actually, but he went out to the terrace for some air.”

“And how long ago was that?” she asked.

Rowan produced a shining pocketwatch and checked the time. “About a half an hour, I’d say.”

Evangelina pursed her lips. “We need to find him.”

“Don’t worry,” Samira reassured. “He’s all right I’m sure.”

Evangelina, however, was not. Her stomach twisted in and over itself, and she shook her head. “If the Earl took the bait tonight, it may not be me he’s after.”

Rowan and Samira exchanged glances.

“You may be right,” agreed Rowan. “You ladies stay here, mingle. I’ll be back soon.”

He went to go, but Samira caught him by the arm and moved closer. They said something to each other in tones too low for Evangelina to hear, then Rowan turned on his heel and exited the ballroom.

“What did you say?” asked Evangelina.

Samira gave a weak smile. “I told him to check back with me in a quarter hour or I’d go after him myself.”

Evangelina chewed her cheek, unable to find any joy or amusement around her.

“You could dance again,” offered Samira. “Make the time go by faster.”

“I couldn’t muster the energy,” said Evangelina quietly, looking around the room.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Evangelina gave up. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to look for him.”

“No,” said Samira shortly. “You can’t.”

Evangelina turned full on to face her sister. “Do you think if Rowan was missing and possibly in danger, anything would keep you from going after him?”

“No, but–” Samira hesitated.

“What? You think I love Zeke less?” demanded Evangelina.

Samira lowered her gaze. “I think you are not as ready to face an enemy as I.”

Evangelina scowled, but she could not argue with that, not when she’d made a point of demanding truth from everyone around her. She conceded the point, but she would not budge on going after her husband.

“I’ll take Joel with me,” she capitulated.

Samira gave a skeptical look as though that was hardly better. “Can’t you wait a few more minutes? Rowan will almost certainly be back with Zeke any second now.”

Evangelina rested a hand on her roiling stomach and shook her head. “No, something is wrong. I can feel it.”

“Fine,” sighed Samira. “But I’m going with you then.”

“All right,” said Evangelina, frankly a little relieved to have her big sister by her side as she led the way out of the ballroom.

They left the bright, busy lights of the party for the dimness of the hall. Evangelina looked around her, unfamiliar with the surroundings of the Marquis and Marchioness’s home. She glanced over to Samira, who seemed to be far more adept at this, and Evangelina gladly deferred to her sister. Evangelina followed close as Samira crept on silent feet through the hall, and the younger could easily see how the elder had kept them alive these years through burgling. They moved quietly through the corridor, and Evangelina could not help but reflect that if Samira truly thought nothing was wrong, they would not be so careful.

“Your pistol on the ground. Now.”

The voice came from the end of the hall, and Samira froze beside Evangelina, who did not hesitate. She rushed forward, running toward the last door, which was open. Before she could reach it, Samira grabbed hold of her and yanked her back. Evangelina tried to fight, but Samira’s grip was iron. Samira forced Evangelina to look at her, holding a finger up to her lips.

“It won’t do any good, Claymore,” growled a voice recognizable as Rowan’s. “Killing him now solves none of your problems.”

Evangelina’s stomach clenched. There was only one “him,” for it to be. Evangelina signaled to her sister that she was calm, so Samira let her go. As Evangelina edged closer to the open door, she heard Claymore chuckled menacingly.

“You think I give a damn?” he grunted. “This isn’t about money or business; this is about revenge.”

Evangelina came up against the door, peering into the room. Claymore stood at the far end of a conservatory, a piano not far from him, with Zeke standing arm’s length from the man, his hands up and his eyes forward. Evangelina fought the urge to wail, to throw herself in the room and dive into the fray, at least to be there. She wanted to run to Zeke, but he needed her help, and she had to have a plan. Movement closer to her caught her attention, and she watched as Rowan prowled closer to his brother and the Earl. Samira gripped Evangelina hard. Evangelina quickly surveyed the room, assessing everything, trying to piece together what had happened.

“Don’t take one more step, or I’ll put a bullet in your brother,” the Earl snapped.

Rowan stilled.

“What was it that friend of yours said the day you took my prize from me, Marston?” the Earl asked, jabbing the gun into Zeke’s side harder. “Fill me with more holes than a French whore?” the Earl chuckled. “Would have been funny if you weren’t robbing me blind while doing it.”

“She isn’t yours,” Zeke spoke for the first time since Evangelina had approached. “You had no right to take her, so you have no right to retribution when we took her back.”

Claymore rocked slightly closer, shifting to press the pistol to the back of Zeke’s head. “Keep speaking and you’ll get the bullet I should have put in your skull that morning when I found you fucking my property.”

Evangelina ignored the coarse language, ignored the obvious effort to get a reaction from Zeke. At the moment, the only one who was armed was the Earl, and that would not do. Evangelina had to find a way to change the status quo, and that was when she saw it. A pistol glinted on the ground, and she began to piece it together. Rowan had come in, armed, and the Earl had a pistol trained on Zeke. Ordered to drop it, Rowan had kicked it away from himself, but, wisely, had kicked it toward the door in case reinforcements arrived.

Well, Evangelina glanced to Samira. They were the reinforcements.

“I need you to stay right here, behind the door,” said Evangelina softly to her sister.

Samira shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but there’s no way–”

“Please,” Evangelina said, gently laying her hand on Samira’s stomach. “It’s not about you. You have to protect the baby.”

Samira’s eyes welled. “I might not be with child.”

Evangelina shook her head. “We both know that isn’t true. This is the most important thing you can do, to keep them safe.”

Nodding, Samira stepped back a little. “Please be careful, Eva.”

Turning, Evangelina eyed the gun and her target, and before she could overthink or talk herself out of it, she moved.

When Zeke heard the sound of the shot, he thought he was dead. He was sure of it. The Earl had shot him, for revenge, for spite, for a chance at marrying off Evangelina once more. He expected pain. He expected darkness, or pearly gates, maybe even hellfire, though he hoped against it. He expected distant screams he would soon realize were his own as his lifeblood drained from him. And he expected his life to flash before his eyes like it had when he was a boy and had fallen from a high tree. Before it all had gone black, he’d seen his mother and even his father, his brothers and sisters, thought of playing and riding and painting and learning to dance. He’d even thought of his tutor and his math sums that were so much harder when he had to write with the hand that didn’t make sense.

But now, he only saw one thing: Evangelina. He saw her in his mind’s eye, when he’d very first had the pleasure of seeing her, so beautiful and so full of life, coming to dinner at their house. He thought of when he’d first sketched her, with her hair down, then of her on their wedding day. Zeke recalled her standing naked in the window of that roadside inn, bound and yet resilient, and thought of her flushed and wanting beneath him as he made her his for the first time under a blanket of stars. He thought of her fierceness, her love, her goodness, her will, and the way it felt inside him when she told him she loved him, too.

Then it was not in his imagination any longer, but he saw the woman herself stand before him, gun in hand, leveled at Zeke. No, not at him, but at the man beside him, who was slowly falling away. Time slowed as Evangelina advanced, as Zeke turned to see the Earl now crumpled on the floor. Zeke’s mind did not process what had happened until he saw the red blooming on Claymore’s chest and the smoking gun in Evangelina’s hand. Finally, his thoughts caught up with the reality of the moment.

“Eva,” Zeke said her name, the only syllable available to him in that moment.

She did not even look at him, looked nowhere except the body of the man lying on the ground at Zeke’s feet. Distantly, Zeke was aware of Samira entering the room, of her going to Rowan. Evangelina’s breath came fast and shallow as she held the pistol. Her hands started to shake, and she dropped the gun.

“Oh God!” she gasped. “Oh my God, Zeke! Ezekiel!”

Zeke rushed forward, catching his wife by the middle before she collapsed into him. Zeke picked her up against his chest, cradling her to his frame.

“Eva!” Samira cried, rushing forward.

“She’s in shock,” Zeke said quietly. “Let’s get her out of here.”

He carried her out of the room and moved away from the ballroom where the majority of England’s elite were all gathered. He cursed.

“They have to have heard that,” said Samira to Rowan, who was rushing behind them. “Musicians cause some background noise but not louder than a gunshot.”

Rowan hesitated. “I’ll go talk to Ari. We can make up something to cover, I’m sure, and we have to make sure no one finds the body.”

Zeke stiffened, still holding Evangelina’s limp frame close. “I have to get her out of here.”

Samira nodded. “Yes, go. Rowan, I’m staying with you. We’ll make sure everything is all right here, and when we can, we’ll come back to the house to check on Evangelina.”

“Good, yes,” Rowan nodded. “Go on to Ariane, love. I’ll be right there.”

Samira nodded back and hurried off. Rowan turned to Zeke.

“Don’t take her back to the house, just in case…” Rowan said softly.

“I know,” Zeke responded. “We’ll be at the place.”

The brothers parted then, and Zeke slipped from the house with Evangelina in his arms, praying that they would not need it, but planning every step for the worst.