Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

London 1808

Evangeline Payne ran a hand down the front of her dress, her fingers smoothing over the beading and embroidery of the rich, intricate bodice. Its high bust gave way to lengths of silk trimmed with rosettes and lace at the hem with pearls dotting the dark sapphire fabric like so many stars. Her maid, Dobbs, stepped back with a final nod, signifying that her work was done. Evangeline turned and stepped over to the full-length gilded mirror in her dressing room.

As she took in her reflected image, Evangeline released a silent, relieved sigh. Her blonde hair contrasted greatly with the deep blue, which hue also accentuated the green in her hazel eyes. Slowly, her lips spread into a smile. The blacks, grays, and lavenders that had consumed her wardrobe for the last year had never felt so oppressive as they had in the past fortnight.

She was fully out of mourning at last .

Dobbs, her face so rarely marred by emotion of any kind, allowed a satisfied gleam to light her eye. "That's better, if I may say. His lordship was a man worthy of the highest respect, but you look very well back in colors, my lady."

Very well? Only very well? That was not how Evangeline felt, but as it was the highest compliment that Dobbs could ever muster, she forgave the servant who had waited on her for nigh twenty years. Evangeline studied herself in the mirror again. True, her appearance might deserve a ‘very well' at the moment. Her hair was not done up as befitted such an elegant gown. A simple knot with braids surrounding the crown of her head would not do. With this dress she would wear a turban of twisted gold and blue, ostrich plumes dyed a brilliant white towering above her. She would hold a bejeweled reticule, her hands and arms enclosed in elegant evening gloves, bracelets dangling from her wrists, clinking against each other as she danced the night away in a ballroom.

But that vision was not why Evangeline had put on the dress. She did not wish to dance. She did not even wish for all the finery. All she wished for was to keep the feeling she had inside her now: light, airy freedom.

She felt alive again.

Without a knock beforehand, the door to her dressing room opened and Lady Bancroft stepped in, leaning on her cane. She stopped at the sight of Evangeline in front of the mirror. "What is this? That is an evening gown."

An oppressive air replaced the light, floating freedom hovering over Evangeline. She raised her brows and tilted her head at this obvious statement. "Yes, Mama, I know."

"Well, then, take it off immediately. It is ridiculous. It is not even noon."

"I only wished to see if it still fit. "

Which, thankfully, it did.

With everything that had happened since the earl's death, she did not need the added tedium of taking all her clothes to the modiste's to be let out. "I shall have to go through the rest of my wardrobe to determine the same thing for all of them. Dobbs, get the pink day dress out for this morning. You know the one."

"Pink?" said Lady Bancroft. "No, I think not. You are only officially out of mourning today. Purple will do better. Or the white with the lavender trimmings."

Evangeline's lips thinned. "I have been wearing lavender for months, Mama."

"And one more day shan't hurt. It is only a morning call to Mrs. Audley. You must not seem too eager to cast the memory of your dear husband aside, although it has been a year. He was so fond of you."

The earl had been fond of her. Everyone had been telling her so for years, and she had felt it herself, at times. Opulent gifts of jewelry, dresses, finery of every kind over the course of their marriage had demonstrated to the ton his devotion to her.

It was said he had fallen in love with her the moment he had set eyes on her all those years ago. Before she had even been introduced to him, he had determined to woo and win her. Henry Edward Gregory Payne, forth earl of Ramsbury, had been fifty-two at the time.

Evangeline had been sixteen.

Now, at thirty-three, she had experienced enough of the world to know that love had not been the main motivation for their union; that love had not been the driving cause behind his extravagant gifts and lavish balls and parties, displaying his pretty young wife, the most fashionable woman in London, to the world; that revenge could come in many forms.

Still, she did wish to quarrel with her mother just now, and if Lady Bancroft did not get her way, there was bound to be a quarrel. "The white then, Dobbs. But the straw bonnet with the feathers and fruit."

It was one of her more daring pieces of headwear.

Lady Bancroft raised a brow but gave an approving nod. "Mrs. Audley will appreciate your subdued choice, I am sure. You know how nice she is about such things."

While Dobbs helped Evangeline dress for her morning visit, Lady Bancroft filled the time by lamenting over her daughter's choice to leave town as soon as her business with the trustees of little Henry's estate was completed. Her mother pressed Evangeline to instead stay in town at her father's house since now she was out of mourning, she might enjoy whatever society had to offer. But on this Evangeline would not budge an inch. The sooner she and her children were back at Amsbrook, the better.

"And Henry is not so little anymore, Mama. Do not say so in front of him, I beg."

Lady Bancroft waved off the warning. "He shall be ‘Little Henry' to me 'til the day I die."

Evangeline laughed inwardly at this description of her eldest son. "‘Little Henry' is nearly fifteen, taller than us both, and an earl besides. We must let him grow up."

While she knew her words were true, Evangeline's throat constricted at the bewildering thought that her oldest had come so far in the year since he had inherited his father's estate. While Evangeline had been appointed his guardian by the trustees of the late earl's will until he became of age, Henry had taken the matter very seriously, insisting to be present as the business of his primary estate, Sherborne Abbey, was discussed.

So, Evangeline had brought her family to London. He had even made several suggestions that had been agreed upon. Before the old earl had passed, he had prepared his heir well for the position he would hold. Henry would be an excellent master of Sherborne Abbey: responsible, resolved, capable.

Hopefully not controlling.

As Dobbs finished the last touches on Evangeline's dress, the distant, clanking sound of the knocker came to their ears.

"Who could that be? Are you expecting anyone, my dear?" Lady Bancroft asked.

"I am not."

"Well, they will have to be sent on their way. We must not be late to Mrs. Audley. She cannot abide tardiness, you know."

Evangeline nodded, not bothering to mention that the crotchety Mrs. Audley lived only four houses down from the earl's townhouse in Grosvenor Square. There was still plenty of time. But her mother was ever one to worry over appearances.

Not many moments later, a footman presented himself at the door with a card resting on a little silver platter. "There is a Mr. Morley wishing to see you, if you are in, your ladyship. Mr. Young put him in the library."

Evangeline frowned and took the card, examining it. The etched black lettering glistened as she titled the card this way and that, displaying the visitor's name. The Honorable Mr. Basil Morley. "What can he want?" she wondered.

"Morley?" Lady Bancroft said, stepping next to Evangeline and taking the card from her. "Why, so it is. What, indeed? He has no business here." She directed a look to the footman. "Tell him that her ladyship is not at home."

Irritation at her mother's interference tickled Evangeline's spine. Ever since Lord Ramsbury's death, it seemed Lady Bancroft thought Evangeline was helpless, hesitant, indecisive, and sometimes, even stupid. Her father was not much better. What irritated Evangeline even more than her parents' interferences was the nagging voice inside her that whispered they might be right.

"That will not be necessary, Roger. I shall see him," she said.

Lady Bancroft blinked and pursed her lips. "What could you wish to see him about? Why is he here?" Her eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion. "Does he call upon you often?"

Evangeline threw her mother a look of rebuke. "Mama, please. What do you think I am?" Entertaining a confirmed rake and fortune hunter alone in her house? The old earl would have had plenty to say about that. Out in the open, among the safety of a crowded ballroom or card party, she had flirted with Basil Morley plenty of times, but what woman hadn't?

"Basil Morley," said Lady Bancroft with a shake of her head. "Such a promising young man before he went abroad. It quite ruined him. But you will not see him now. We will be late. Come. Send—Roger, is it?—send Roger down to dismiss him."

But Evangeline's curiosity had quickened. What could Basil want with her? It had been rather a dull day so far, but it was her first day out of mourning. Today should feel more momentous somehow, but instead, she felt nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the opposite could be said as she stood in yet another subdued gown of half-mourning. She felt small, deflated.

If anyone could liven up the day, it was Basil Morley .

"I can spare him ten minutes and not make us one second late, Mama. Wait for me in the drawing room, will you?"

Lady Bancroft huffed. "I will do no such thing. I do not care how old you are or how long you have been mistress of your own house. I will not allow any daughter of mine to be in the same room with a man of his reputation without proper protection."

Evangeline laughed. "Protection? Do not be absurd, ma'am. Basil Morley would no sooner harm me than he would work to earn his daily bread. The Continent may have ruined him all those years ago, but he has never disrespected me with his outrageous ways. We have known each other too long for that. Do wait for me. I shan't be long."

Evangeline swept past the footman and made her way to the morning room before her mother could protest any further. The butler, Mr. Young, was nowhere to be seen. Evangeline smiled. Doubtless the aged servant, with over fifty years of service in the house of Payne, thought it below his station to cater to the likes of Mr. Morley.

Roger stepped up to the door and opened it. Thanking him with an elegant nod of her head, she entered the room and saw that her old acquaintance had made himself completely at home, having reclined himself on one of the sofas. His head, covered in thick, wildly disheveled dark hair, rested on the back of the sofa. His long, shapely legs stretched out before him so far off the furniture that another inch would have sent him sliding off the cushion, rump-first, to the floor. Had Evangeline delayed her coming by even two minutes, she was sure he would have been snoring.

This posture changed in the blink of an eye at her entrance. Basil started and shot up to his feet, twisting his neck from side to side. "Lady Ram, I bid you good morning. It is a good morning, isn't it? Beautiful day."

His dark eyes met hers with the usual mischievous twinkle in them, and he threw out his signature half-smile, which had been described by more than one lady as ‘adorably irresistible.'

Evangeline smiled in return and held out her hand to shake his. He took it and raised it up to his lips instead, laying a soft, full kiss on it. She took it back immediately with a laugh and offered him a seat. "Now, Mr. Morley, none of that. It is too early for such flirtations. By the by, what are you doing up this early? It is only noon."

"The business of the day could not wait, I am delighted to say," he replied.

She sat down on a chair near the sofa. Basil took his original seat with more propriety than when she had found him. "Is that so?" she asked. "It must be very important. I have already heard that the Whitely ball was a smashing squeeze and that it did not end until well after sunup. You can't have left there much above four hours ago."

Indeed, Basil looked like he had not even taken the time to put on a fresh cravat in place of the crumpled mess of cloth that rested limp under his chin. Was that a wine stain on his waistcoat as well? His face, which could be very handsome when it did not look so gaunt from the effects of his revelry, was drawn. The lines surrounding his mouth looked deeper than usual, hinting that he had likely smiled and laughed the whole evening through. Really, the man was getting worse and worse with each passing year.

She did not doubt the guests at the Whitely ball had been vastly entertained by him. She had herself laughed until her sides ached while in his company in years past. A dissolute rake he may be, but hosts and hostesses alike knew their parties were bound to be a success if Basil Morley was amongst them, having the whole room laughing one moment, then shocking everyone as he made up to every single lady of large fortune in attendance.

"Well, let me not keep you from your business. I am sorry I am not able to offer you any refreshment, but I am going out directly. What is it you want, my friend?"

Basil waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind the refreshment, but you are not in such a hurry that pleasantries cannot be exchanged. You are in tolerable health, I take it?"

She arched a brow. "More than tolerable health, thank you. Yourself?"

"Never better. Thank you for your kind inquiry."

Evangeline's eyes slid over his disheveled frame. She begged to differ.

"I will not keep you long, but," he paused, looking over her dress. "You are still in mourning? It was my understanding that?—"

He was interrupted by the opening of the door. Evangeline turned and saw Haney, the nurse, and Miss Pitt, the governess, step into the room.

"Begging your pardon, your ladyship," said Miss Pitt. "But we were to inform you when we were leaving with our charges out to the square for their airing."

Evangeline turned back to Basil. "Forgive me. My children. One moment. Yes, Miss Pitt, thank you for letting me know. You will manage them all between you?"

Haney smiled, several layers of fine wrinkles wreathing her face. "No trouble at all, ladyship. They are such dears when they're promised enough sweeties."

Evangeline looked at her in mock seriousness. "Now, Haney, you mustn't indulge them too much. Spoilt children are not at all easy to manage, and you will be to blame. But do get them out for their airing and tell them I shall join them for their nuncheon when I return."

The two women curtsied and left the room. Evangeline turned back to Basil, who was looking contemplative. "What is it?" she asked, brows lifted.

Basil blinked and gave a shake of his head as if to bring himself out of some unpleasant train of thought. "I don't suppose I forgot you had children, but then, perhaps I did. How many do you have?"

Evangeline pursed her lips. "Seven."

His eyes bulged. "Egad, as many as that?"

She inclined her head indicating the truth of her words.

"It cannot be. Not with your figure, my dear."

Basil was prone to every sort of flattery that could be thought of, but Evangeline could not be immune to the compliment and hoped it was more than just a Spanish Coin. With as many pregnancies as she had had over the course of her marriage, it would be no surprise for her figure to be quite ruined, and though she would never recover the slim frame of her youth, she hoped her figure was neat and trim considering what all her travails had done to her.

Of course, she would not let Basil know how much it concerned her. She smiled, a disbelieving look in her eye. "You are too kind. But you did not come here to flatter me. Tell me, Mr. Morley, for I haven't much time."

Basil nodded and straightened his frame. He brought his hands together and intertwined them between his knees. "Right. To the point. Lady Ramsbury, my dear Lady Ram. I have waited long to be able to speak to you on this somewhat delicate matter. I am surprised that I have restrained myself for so long, but I must and will demand the opportunity to tell you what a delightful acquaintance, a delightful friend , you have been to me all these years. Have you never felt the same way?"

Evangeline furrowed her brow. True, she had known Basil since they were children. Their fathers' estates were not too far from one another's in Hertfordshire, but the tone in his voice implied that they had been more than just two people who only knew each other because they belonged to the same circles. Their childhoods were connected, yes, but once married, Evangeline had been too occupied with her own family to pay him much heed beyond the ballroom.

"I suppose," she replied slowly. "We have always amused each other."

Basil grinned, flashing that irresistible smile at her. "Precisely. Which is why I believe that we would deal extremely well together if we should progress in our acquaintance, so much so that I will be so bold as to?—"

Evangeline reared her head back. "What are you saying, Mr. Morley?"

Basil's eyes glinted slyly. He spread his hands out in offering. "Marry me, my darling."