Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Evan

T he rain lashed against his skin as Evan arrived at Jonathan’s estate, the storm intensifying with every passing mile.

Evan hadn’t wanted to leave Emma yet, but the moment Evan learned of Jonathan’s clandestine attentions to Brigitte, Emma’s maid, there had been little choice but to act. She had confided her concerns to him before and he’d foolishly dismissed it as one of Jonathan’s flirtatious misadventures. He’d assured her he’d put an end to it should it become troublesome. And he hadn’t.

He'd let Jonathan take this much farther than he thought his friend ever might. And now, he had to confront him. Jonathan’s behavior, combined with Emma’s subtle worry for Brigitte, left Evan no room for complacency.

Besides, he had found his conversation with Emma regarding secrets and lies uncomfortable, because the way she had shifted in her seat, looked at him with concern had made him wonder if perhaps she already knew about his secret visits to Rose…

Shaking the thought out of his mind, he rushed up the stops, knocked and waited until the butler greeted him with his usual polished efficiency.

“Your Grace, please come in. His Lordship is in the parlor.”

Evan, with a brusque nod, made his way to the parlor. Jonathan was there, reclined in his customary chair by the fire, a glass of brandy in his hand and an air of practiced indolence about him.

“Evan!” Jonathan exclaimed, rising with a smile. “What brings you here on such a night? Let me fetch you a drink?—”

“There is no need for pleasantries,” Evan interrupted, his voice cold and clipped. “We need to talk, and I would prefer we dispense with the charade.”

Jonathan’s brows rose in mild surprise, though the glint in his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “Charade? Whatever can you mean?”

Evan stepped closer, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. “I am speaking, of course, about Brigitte. Do not pretend you are unaware of what I refer to.”

Jonathan’s expression tightened for the briefest of moments, but he quickly regained his composure, laughing lightly. “Brigitte? What of her? She’s a fine maid, efficient, and perfectly respectful?—”

“Enough!” Evan’s voice was sharp, and it cut through Jonathan’s feigned levity. “I have heard enough to confirm my suspicions, and I assure you, they are not unfounded. You cannot deny it. It is far beyond a mere gift for her birthday and your usual flirtation, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Jonathan looked as though he might continue his act of innocence, but then he shrugged and sat back down, swirling the brandy in his glass. “Very well,” he said at last, his tone resigned. “It is true. I have spent a great deal of time with her as of late. I care for her. Truly. It was a silly flirtation, as you said, at the start but it is more now. These past five or six weeks I’ve … I’ve become very attached to her.”

“How is that possible?” Evan demanded, his tone laced with frustration. “You have hardly been in my company these past weeks, yet you claim to have engaged her so frequently?”

Jonathan’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. “Because, Evan, I know your schedule better than you do. I know when you visit Rose or when you go into town.”

Evan stiffened at the name, though he did not respond. Jonathan continued, his tone conversational. Though he did recall Emma’s explanation about Jonathan’s habits when it came to his visits.

“I have chosen those very occasions to call at your estate, presenting myself as the disappointed friend when you are conspicuously absent. It was a simple matter to speak with Brigitte during such times. And then there were her visits here.”

“She visited here?” Evan repeated, incredulity etched across his face.

“Yes,” Jonathan replied, leaning forward slightly. “Surely you’ve noticed the dwindling supply of fresh produce at your home? My man Reginald has made an arrangement with Mrs. Havisham to purchase your excess goods. Fruits, vegetables, compote and such. Reginald has been delivering baskets from your estate to mine, filled with all manner of fruits and vegetables. Of course, they were only a pretext for Brigitte to accompany.” He chuckled lightly. “I suppose you’ve been wondering where all the pears have gone.”

“This is not a laughing matter,” Evan snapped. “Do you understand the danger you’re courting? A nobleman and a commoner in such an affair—it could ruin you both. Have you learned nothing from being my friend all these years?”

Jonathan’s gaze hardened, and his easy demeanor vanished. “Evan, your life is not mine. I will do what I think is right. And for your information, I adore Brigitte.”

Evan scoffed, his disbelief plain. “You hardly know her.”

Jonathan sneered, rising from his chair. “And you hardly knew Emma when you married her! I dare say you still hardly know her. Yet you have been singing her praises these past few weeks, telling me how happy you are and how much you admire her.”

Evan opened his mouth to protest but stopped short, realizing the truth of Jonathan’s words. He could not deny it, but he pressed on. “That may be so, but I am aware of how such relationships—those between noblemen and commoners—can end, for both parties. I have experienced it firsthand.”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed, his voice quiet but cutting. “No, Evan. You have experienced how difficult it is for a noblewoman to love a commoner. That is why you decided to help Ophelia, is it not?”

Evan’s jaw tightened, but he did not deny the accusation.

Jonathan continued, his tone more impassioned now. “You speak of ruin and ridicule, but what would you have me do? Abandon her? Deny what I feel? I love Brigitte, Evan, and I will not let society dictate the bounds of my heart.”

Evan shook his head, his voice heavy with warning. “Society will not look the other way, Jonathan. Do you intend to bring her to the balls and soirées of the ton ? To expose her to their scorn and whispers? You know as well as I that Brigitte is not one to revel in attention. From what I have observed, she would loathe being at the center of such scrutiny.”

Jonathan sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. His voice was muffled when he finally spoke. “You’re right about that. She’s happiest when she’s unnoticed. But I cannot change how I feel.”

Evan sat down across from him, the tension between them easing slightly. “You must think carefully about what you are doing. If you care for her as much as you claim, you will not drag her into a world that will only bring her pain.”

Jonathan lifted his head, his eyes weary but defiant. “We are both men trying to protect the women we care for. And we are both failing spectacularly, aren’t we?”

Evan’s breath caught at the remark, the truth of it cutting deeply. In that moment, he resolved to tell Emma the truth about Rose. He could no longer let his fears dictate his actions. But not tonight—the storm outside was too fierce, the roads treacherous. He would remain at Jonathan’s estate until morning, and then, with the first light of dawn, he would return to his wife and lay bare the secrets that had haunted him for far too long.