Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Evangeline had never seen her late husband in his younger years, they being long gone before she was out of leading strings, but it was said amongst their acquaintance that Henry was the spitting image of his father. Evangeline had to agree. Several portraits lining the walls of Sherbourne Abbey attested to the fact. Hair and eyes of a sturdy brown were Henry's dominating features, and a face, if not exactly handsome, clear and pleasing to the eye.

"Henry, home at last. But so late. You took no harm?" Evangeline said, rising. She held her arms out and embraced him.

He returned the hug with a smile and placed a dry kiss on her cheek. "Hallo, Mama. All in one piece, as you see."

"Are you hungry? You must be, I am sure."

"No, I dined on the road." He nodded to his sisters. "Ettie, Charlotte. What are you all still doing up? I thought the house would be dead to the world. You did not know I was coming, did you? "

Ettie and Charlotte came over. "We were caught up in a book and—talking," Charlotte said, giving a side glance to Evangeline.

"Talking?" Henry lifted a hand. "I do not wish to know."

"You might," Charlotte muttered.

"Oh?"

"Henry, you are tired," Evangeline said. "We shan't keep you up. I will have your bedchamber prepared immediately. And girls, it is time you were in bed as well. Off you go."

Henry gave a measured look to Charlotte. "Actually, Mama, I will be up for a while yet. Davies is seeing to my room, so do not worry yourself."

The door opened, and Henry's valet entered with a tray holding a decanter and glass. "Here you are, my lord."

Evangeline raised her brows at the decanter. "So late, my dear?"

Her eighteen-year-old son went over and poured himself a glass. "Do not fret over me, Mama. Go to bed. I shall do very well."

His tone, polite and yet commanding at the same time, set her teeth. His father had cultivated much the same tone.

"Girls, upstairs with you," Evangeline said.

Ettie and Charlotte bade her and Henry goodnight and left the room.

"Are you not fatigued as well, Mama?" Henry asked, taking a seat.

She sat down as well. "Oh no. I would much rather hear of your doings, since you do not write as often as a mother should like. How has your summer been?"

Henry shrugged and swirled the dark red wine around in his glass. "Nothing terribly interesting. A little of this, a little of that."

This had been his way for some time now. Never giving quite enough information to satisfy anyone. Since he had first started at Cambridge, his letters had become less and less frequent.

Evangeline filled fifteen minutes telling him about the events at Fernsby Hall and realized she kept back almost as much as she was telling. Perhaps it would be wise to retire. She would tell him about Basil, but not tonight. Let him meet Basil with no preconceived judgments already formed in his head. Basil would be presented as a friend and nothing more, in the beginning, at least. Slow and steady, that was the way to handle what must come next, Evangeline had no doubt.

"Mama, what is this I hear about you becoming engaged?"

That was the question that followed Henry into Evangeline's bedchamber the next morning after a firm rap on the door.

She regarded him wide eyed over her chocolate. "What is this?"

"You cannot be engaged, Mama. You know that."

Evangeline set her cup down, hard-pressed not to slam it against the tray instead. She loved each of her children with all her heart, but to be reminded of the power Henry had over her, by Henry himself, her eighteen-year-old son, grated against her independence.

"Which is why I am not engaged," she said, keeping the frustration out of her voice as best she could. "Where did you come by this notion?"

Henry waved a hand vaguely in the air. "Charlotte waited for me to come up last night. Had quite a lot to say on the matter. Morley. I think I have heard the name before. But if he is not a suitor like Charlotte says, why is he forever at the house?"

So much for slow and steady. Well, if this was the road they were to take, then so be it. "Mr. Morley is a friend of mine. He comes to Amsbrook because I wish him to."

Henry furrowed a brow, his eye hardening. "So he is a suitor, in fact? Has he proposed?"

His tone, so commanding, so self-assured, so like his father, set her hackles up. "And what if he has, my dear? You know very well I have received many proposals over the years."

"Charlotte says this one is different. Says it is clear as day that you love him. But you know you cannot become engaged to him, or anyone, without due process, remember?"

Remember the last hold the late Earl of Ramsbury had on her life? How could she forget? She merely bowed her head in answer to Henry.

He pursed his lips, picking up on her emotion. "I will be fair, ma'am. If he is worthy of you, then you have nothing to fear."

"If he is worthy of me," Evangeline echoed, bringing her fingers up to her head and closing her eyes to hide her anger. That Henry had a part to play in this debacle at all was abominable on her late husband's part. Basil was worthy of her, but not in a way the head of an ancient house could fathom.

"Well, if a proposal is on the way and you are agreeable to it, I will start my inquiries immediately. I will need to know his family line and prospects, financial station in life…"

"Henry, enough of this," she snapped. "I will continue this conversation no longer. You know as well as I do the dictates of the will. But, as the particular requirements that demand such action as has been prescribed have not been met, the will has no power over the situation at present, does it?"

Henry's jaw tightened. Two bright pink spots appeared on his cheeks. "No, ma'am," he said tightly.

Evangeline sighed. "Henry, darling, I do not mean to be so cross. I am sorry. You know as well as I do that, should it come to it, the will will be upheld. But I shall inform you when action must be taken. You will not do so prematurely. Do you understand?"

Henry straightened his shoulders as if trying to take command of the situation again. "I am only doing my duty by my father."

"I know you are. And yes, you are of age, but that does not mean you may ride rough shod over your mother, no matter what duty requires of you. Is that understood?"

Henry nodded sharply and turned on his heel. "Forgive me for interrupting your chocolate. It was unnecessary, it seems."

She sighed. "Oh, Henry, do not become as cross as I was, that will not?—"

Her words were cut off by the sharp slam of the door.

Evangeline leaned back against her pillows with a long sigh. The dying wishes—not wishes, commands —of a late husband could be such messy arrangements, but there was nothing to be done about it. She would not lie in bed feeling sorry for herself when it was such a small thing compared to others' circumstances.

That was the conundrum she found herself in frequently with regards to the late earl. He had been generosity itself at times, giving her all she could ask for and more that she did not ask for. Yet he had been so commanding, so exacting at the same time. She was at once grateful to him and resentful of him by turns and wondered whether she would feel that way for the rest of her life.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she resolutely climbed out of bed and rang for Dobbs. She would not allow herself to be brought low by the constraints of her situation. She would face the Complication when it needed facing. But for now, Basil had said he might come today, and all she wanted was his presence to sweep away her worries.

Sure enough, Basil strolled up the path to Amsbrook in the bright sunshine of a summer afternoon, much to the delight of Adele and the boys, who ran out to meet him, and much to the delight of Evangeline, who had a feeling that she would not take it well if he did not come every day now.

"Did you bring me another toy?" Adele asked him.

Evangeline quickly intervened. "Adele, that is no way to greet a guest. You will not get something each time Mr. Morley comes."

"But today," Basil said, "you absolutely get a something. What do you think of this?"

He held out a little parcel wrapped in brown paper. Adele took it and, with enthusiastic thanks, opened it while Gregory and William crowded around her.

Evangeline lifted a brow at him. "You will spoil her, and I will not have that."

Basil smiled in return. "This is the last one. I promise."

The brown paper fell to the ground, and Adele opened the little box. She held up a string of pink pearls. "Oh! Thank you, Mr. Morley," she cried. "Mama, look! Now I can dress just like you."

Gregory and William backed away, wrinkling their noses in disappointment at such a paltry gift as jewelry. "May we take you fishing, Mr. Morley?" Gregory asked.

Evangeline smiled and examined the fake pearls with all the interest Adele required of her. "They are stunning, my love. We must save them for the most special occasions, I think."

"Yes, like dinner each time Mr. Morley comes. Are you staying for dinner?" she asked Basil.

Basil looked up and squinted into the sunlight. "A bit early for dinner, isn't it? I think you will grow tired of me well before then."

The children cried foul at this, declaring they could never be bored by anything Mr. Morley did. Their enthusiasm, along with Basil's wide grin as he regarded her children, filled Evangeline's heart almost to bursting. Basil had worked his way into her children's hearts with ease, just as she had hoped he would.

"If you are to stay with us until supper, Mr. Morley, I suggest you take the boys fishing now so you may all have time to change before dinner," she said. "Gregory, go fetch Simon. I suspect he will wish to go as well."

"Yes, Mama. And Henry. Perhaps he shall wish to go too."

The boys charged back into the house. Basil lifted his brows. "Henry? Is Lord Ramsbury here now?"

"Yes, he arrived just last night," Evangeline said. Her voice came out rather high, trying to make light of the fact.

Haney came just then to collect Adele, and Evangeline and Basil were left to themselves for the moment.

"Sometime before I leave, I should like to visit that tree again," Basil said, patting the pocket of his jacket with tentative significance. "If we may?"

Evangeline nodded. "Of course. Shall I keep it for you until then?"

"No, thank you. I will hold onto it. However, I did not think to bring anything to tie it with."

She reached out and took his hand. "Leave that to me. "

Behind her, several footsteps sounded. The boys were coming back.

"Come, Mr. Morley. We are ready," William cried. He, Gregory, and Simon shot past them, heading to the shed where the tackle was kept. "Are you coming?"

"Right behind you," Basil called. He turned back to Evangeline. "Thank you—ah. Good day, there."

Evangeline turned around, surprised. Henry stood behind her, hands clasped behind his back, looking at once stern and absurdly youthful. "Henry," she said in greeting.

"Madame."

Henry eyed Evangeline's hand, which still clasped Basil's. She pressed it once before letting go and made the introduction. "My eldest, Lord Ramsbury."

Henry bowed, but Basil extended his hand. "Delighted to meet you, Ramsbury."

Hesitating only a moment, Henry took his hand. "The pleasure is—" he grimaced under Basil's firm grip. "All mine, I assure you."

Henry put his hands back behind him. From her position, Evangeline could see him opening and closing his hand several times. "I hope you do not mind if I join you and my brothers at the stream? Mama, you can spare me, I am sure?"

Wary, Evangeline nodded, but since Henry was already on his guard concerning Basil, why try to keep them apart? "I am sure he would not object, would you, Mr. Morley? As long as the two of you behave?"

"You know I always behave. We had that discussion before, remember? The more the merrier, wouldn't you say, Ramsbury?" Basil replied with aplomb.

"Very good," Henry said, taking Evangeline's meaning in a different light. If anyone informed Basil of the Complication, it would be her, not him.

The two men set off to join the others. Evangeline watched their progress. Henry, upright and stiff in his stride as he thought befitted his title. Basil, tall but relaxed, walking with a swagger that showed his ease. She hoped the two of them could find some common ground. If anyone could loosen up her stiff son, Basil would find a way.