Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

The day grew more overcast, but sunlight still filtered through breaks in the clouds, giving Evangeline's secret tree just outside the garden a soft, heavenly look.

She had chosen a bright yellow ribbon to tie to the spinning top Basil held in his hand. A fitting color for a girl described by her older brother as all brightness and sunshine. "You may, of course, have the honor," she said, handing the top back to Basil.

Basil looked up through the leaves. "Where shall I put it?"

"Anywhere you think she would like."

A wry smile crossed his face as he examined the tree. A moment later, he chose a twig near Lydia's trinket, a tiny doll in a wide hooped skirt of generations past. "There. I think she shall find the view to her liking."

Evangeline weaved her arm around his and intertwined their fingers. "I think so too."

As they stood admiring the new addition, Basil disengaged his fingers and slid his hand around her waist, holding her tight to his side. It was a most natural progression for her to turn and bury her face into his chest, loving the snug feeling of his arms around her.

He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, then another. "Thank you, E," he murmured. "I feel there is a part of me that…I can't really describe what it is. It is as though…I feel I can somehow rest now."

"Is it peace, perhaps?" she asked.

Basil slowly nodded against her head. "Yes, peace. I think that is the word for it."

A breeze picked up, sending the tributes in the tree swirling and dancing at the ends of their ribbons. Evangeline and Basil shifted so they could watch for a time. "I hope you take the liberty of visiting her whenever you choose," she said, her head on his shoulder.

"I should like that. Often. Though, it would be easier if I did not live in London, do you not think?"

"Yes."

"Easier, still, if I took up residence in Hertfordshire. Somewhere close by. Hollyford, for example?"

She nodded, a shaky smile spread across her lips. "That would make the journey more convenient for you."

"But, I think the most sensible thing to do, if I am to visit her as often as I should like, would be to stay here. At Amsbrook."

She said glibly, even as tears filled her eyes, "That is the most sensible thing you have said yet."

He brought her to arm's length, looking deep into her eyes. "You know I am in love with you? Wholly and completely?"

Lips trembling, she rested her hand on his cheek. "And I you, Puck."

He encased her face between his hands and kissed her, long and tender. She returned his embrace, funneling all her love, compassion, and happiness into her kisses, willing him to understand how much he meant to her.

It was some time before he nestled her back into his arms, her head tucked under his chin. "I am sorry I cannot be more of an Oberon?—"

"Oberon is a pig-headed conceit."

He snorted with laughter "—but this Puck will strive to be worthy of his Titania to the end of his days. Evangeline? Will you m?—"

"Basil," she said, stopping him with a great squeeze. "Before you say another word, there is something I must tell you."

Pressed up against him, she could almost feel his eyes darting here and there as he tried to make sense of her interruption. "Yes?" he said slowly.

"If you continue with your words, which I do hope you do, you must know, there is a—a complication."

"A complication." He shifted to look down at her. "Are you worried about the children?" he asked.

"No. Not the younger ones, or Ettie. Charlotte is still stiff with you, but I think she is only concerned for my happiness. She does not realize she can trust you with it, as I do. That is her way. She will come round. But Henry, I confess I am concerned about him."

"How so?"

She released her hold on him and turned toward the trees, fingers fidgeting. Now that the moment was here she did not know how to start. "I have been saying for years that I do not wish to marry, which has been true enough, until recently, that is. But how the matter actually stands is, I cannot marry."

She turned around. Basil regarded her quizzically. "Cannot marry? What do you mean? What has that to do with Ramsbury?"

"It means I cannot marry again without Henry's blessing and consent."

He looked quizzical. "Cannot marry without a boy's say so?"

"Without the head of the family's say so. Without the consent of the present earl, no. I cannot marry. That is," she amended, "I could. But if I chose to marry out of hand, I would lose my children."

"What do you mean ‘lose your children?'" Basil asked, anger marring his features.

"Should Henry and the trustees of the will see fit, they could inhibit my interactions with my other sons and daughters until they are of age themselves. They would be removed from Amsbrook, which is legally mine, and be installed at Sherbourne Abbey, where I would only be welcome by invitation, should Henry refuse his consent."

"But with it?"

"Arrangements would most likely continue as they are. They are not monsters, Henry and the trustees," she said suddenly. Basil was forming the wrong conclusions very quickly and she must make him see. "They are only following the dictates of the will. The person we really have to thank for this clause is?—"

"Old Ramsbury," Basil finished for her. He put his hands on his hips and circled around the grass, thinking. "And what are the stipulations?"

"Should I choose to marry again, the man must be titled, of unsullied reputation, preferably an older widower with children of his own so that an heir would not be a concern?—"

"Egad, was that all in the will?" Basil asked, much struck .

"No, but it is in Henry's head, which is the same. His father, it seems, had several private meetings with him before he died. Ramsbury was always very adamant that Henry be prepared for the earldom. Had to, you see, he was so old. He knew Henry would inherit young. That those private meetings included dictating my future, well, when that portion of the will was read, I can tell you I was more than a bit put out. It was just like Ramsbury, not bothering to tell me. He never thought much of my capabilities beyond caring for the children."

"I can imagine. I have none of those qualifications. Well, that is not true. Sometimes I have wealth, but that comes and goes. E," he said, frowning. "I have been proposing to you for years. You never thought to tell me of this?"

She lifted her hands. "It did not matter. Half the time you were jesting about melting rocks and drying up the seas."

"I…was," Basil admitted, giving the matter a quick thought. "Only because you told me to."

"I jested over it just as much. I liked it that way. I was perfectly serious in my determination not to marry. You cannot understand, Basil, and perhaps it is monstrous of me to say, but I never felt so free as when I came out of mourning. For the first time, my life was my own to do with what I would. Never, never , had I tasted such freedom. Not as a daughter, not as a wife. To decide against marrying again, it was an easy thing. Easier still with Henry involved. He was so young, and to have the burden of deciding his mother's happiness should I have chosen to marry again. It was too much for him. I vowed I would not, for his sake."

Basil nodded, his head down. "And now?"

Evangeline came to him and laid her hands on his chest. "Now, I wish to be loved. Am ready to be loved. By you."

His hands, warm and smooth, slid past her arms and enveloped her in a firm embrace. He breathed into her hair before planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Are you worried you may lose the freedom you have, if you marry me?" he asked. "That I would rule over you as Ramsbury did? You cannot possibly think that."

She shook her head against his chest. "You could never be like him. Though it is no secret that you have been after my money for years."

He chuckled. "But with the best intentions. I need it because I land myself in hare-brained schemes like husband hunting for fisherwomen and demanding swimming lessons for school children."

She pressed her face into his waistcoat to muffle her laughter, but he continued. "Things would change with our union, yes. But not so much that I think you would be unhappy with the arrangements. You are not a naive miss just out of the schoolroom, and I have too much respect for you to play the tyrant with your fortune. I hope you know that."

She looked up at him. "I do. Tell me all your hare-brained schemes, and I will do my best to fund them."

He leaned down and kissed her through a smile. "You are an angel. Now that I think about it, all Ramsbury's questions while we were fishing today make perfect sense now. I thought he was simply being overly curious, but I see what he was about."

Embarrassing dread struck her. "Oh, Basil. What did he say?"

"Nothing impertinent. Only asking after my family, how long you and I have been acquainted, my connections in London. Things you would ask anyone you are getting to know, though perhaps a bit more pointed than usual. "

Evangeline cast her eyes upward. "Oh, Henry. Will you stop being so dutiful? What if he says no? What then?"

Basil frowned, thinking. "The matter cannot be as dire as it seems. Did the will stipulate a limit to how many times we could apply to your son for his consent?"

She thought a moment. "No."

"There you are, then, we shall simply wear him down until he washes his hands of us, he would be so tired of the subject. Might be old and gray by the time he does, but we would be together, in the end."

She shot an annoyed smile at him. "You are impossible."

"Ah, but I do not think the situation impossible. Young Ramsbury seems a decent fellow enough. A little stiff, perhaps, but with a level head on his shoulders."

Evangeline shook her head. "He is a darling, really. Always was as a boy. It is only because he is growing into his responsibilities and duties that he and I have not got on as we have done. He thinks I can have no wisdom to offer him, now that he is a man, what with the old earl forever telling him I am only a silly woman who cannot take care of herself. And I find it difficult, knowing I must let go of the boy he was. He wishes to make his father proud, and his father's influence on him was great."

Basil nodded thoughtfully. "I am sure this is nothing to fret over. You just watch. He and I will stay behind after dinner, have a glass port, and by the time we join you and the children again, our way will be clear. Come." He looked to the sky. "We should be getting back. It is late."

Cheerfully, he slid Evangeline's arm through his. Before he turned to the house, however, he looked on the tree where the children's tributes dangled. "Goodbye, Lizzie, for now."

Evangeline smiled tenderly at his farewell, and she tried to take heart from his words, but apprehension followed her up the path to the house. Basil was looking at the matter with far more optimism than the situation offered. In vain did she try to convince him that their endeavor might prove to be harder than he knew.

Henry may be young, but he took after his father in more than just looks.