Thirteen

Zachary

“Good heavens, Collins!” Lucas roared the moment we entered the study with Hunter closely behind. “Who are you?”

I knew he had reason to reprimand me. I had behaved poorly toward Eveline. Though I justified my competitiveness to prove that her suitors were clod heads, I failed miserably at doing the one thing I promised myself I would always do—edify and cherish my dearest friend. Yet, four days into this house party, I had done nothing vaguely close to upholding such a promise.

I slouched into the closest chair and ran my hands down my face.

Lucas stood before me with both arms crossed over his chest. “Are you foxed?”

“No!” I countered. Though I wished I was, then it might explain my unabashed cruelty. “I have not taken a sip today.”

Lucas breathed heavily through his nose. “Have you neglected to remember that Eveline is like a sister to me? Have you truly forgotten I might protect her as much as I would Genevieve?”

I pursed my lips.

Hunter stood behind Lucas but in a much less threatening manner.

“I did not intend to deliver Evie a set-down,” I mumbled.

“Bad form, Zach. You humiliated her in front of the entire party!” Lucas shouted. “And in front of several men who seek to win her hand. After all she has been through, do you truly want to ruin her chances of making a love match?”

“No… yes!” I shot to my feet. “I don’t want to see her in the arms of any man!” I shouted back. “The very thought rips my heart out and slams it to the ground!”

Lucas reeled backward. His eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself.

I lowered my voice as I paced the room. “She haunts my every thought, word, movement… I cannot rid my mind of her.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I stood before the window and shook my head. “Even at this very moment, she tortures me,” I whispered as I gazed into the garden where I could only see the hem of Eveline’s dress peeking out of a hidden hollow. Another dress appeared beside hers, presumably belonging to Helena.

I had injured the one person I vowed to never hurt.

“But…” Lucas attempted to speak, then stopped. I circled around and began pacing again as Hunter stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder, persuading me to stop moving.

“We are your mates, Zach,” Hunter whispered. “The ones who have been to hell and back with you. We’ve seen every possible emotion you’ve ever had, but this—this behavior toward Eveline confounds us.” He exhaled. “If you truly care for her, cease this cruelty.”

“I—I cannot care for her,” I groaned.

“Whyever not?” Lucas growled. “She has always loved you Zach, if you truly love her, you should be together.”

“I can’t!” I snapped.

Both men stood astonished before me.

“I wished death upon her husband,” I confessed.

“What?” Lucas breathed quietly.

The men exchanged uneasy glances before Hunter asked, “Did you… have anything to do with Sir Colin’s death in the Indies?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not.” I felt just a bit miffed he might think that. Though I did hire a Bow Street Runner to investigate him, which they already knew. “I prayed he might succumb to some illness and die… then he did.” I studied their expressions, wondering what bewilderment crossed their minds.

“But you didn’t do it,” Hunter repeated.

“No, I may be a cad, but my soul is not that wicked, and I would never wish to cause such grief.”

“Wishing death upon the man who married your love might not be noble, but it’s a logical desire, mate,” Hunter retorted. “You wanted Eveline to be free of him. It’s not like you had some mythical power to use against him. So, you wished his demise, now he’s dead.” Hunter shrugged his shoulders as if this sudden development had not haunted me since the moment I received the news.

“Maybe my prayers were answered in some perverse way,” I suggested.

Lucas found his voice again. “Did you go to a sorcerer and put a curse on him?”

“No.” The thought proved ridiculous and, when I caught Lucas’ expression, I realized that was precisely what he wanted me to see… the absurdity of it all.

Lucas walked over and placed an arm around my shoulder and led me back to the chair then sat opposite me. “All this time you have carried this misplaced guilt believing you somehow had a hand in her becoming a widow?”

I nodded.

Lucas rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “Blast, mate. That’s a lot of illogical weight to carry.”

“Is it though?”

“Yes.” Lucas sounded so sure. He glanced over to Hunter then sighed. “Look, it should be Evie telling you this, but I presume she won’t want to be anywhere near you for a while.”

I watched him curiously. What vast secret was he about to divulge?

“I will first say, you haven’t an inkling of what Evie’s been through, and if you cannot behave and be kind, I will straightaway escort you from Gottling myself.”

“Rightly so,” I agreed.

“You were already aware that Evie had to marry quickly after her father’s death, but when she says the arrangement suited them both, she spoke the truth. She needed someone who would save her, her mother, and sister. He needed someone like her to see to his standing here in Britain; a wife of fine repute and someone he could trust and would maintain his assets once he passed.”

“What do you mean? Speak plainly, Luke!”

“Sir Colin Turner was already ill when they wed. He knew he would make her a widow in short order. He actually lived a year longer than the doctors believed he would.”

The news bowled me over and struck my chest as if I was the archery target at that very moment. What an irrational arrangement. Why would she agree to such a scheme? I shook my head trying to wrap my head around the senselessness of this. “If he was so ill, why did he stay in the Indies? He would have received better care here in London, maybe even survived.”

“There is much involved here, only I refuse to say anything more. If you want to know, you must ask Eveline. But I will warn you, it will not be easy after today.”

“I’m aware.” A small amount of relief surfaced after my confession of guilt and the subsequent wisdom that my friends had brought into the conversation, but now I felt like nothing more than a blackguard, a scoundrel of the highest tier.

The Bow Street Runner I had hired told me quite a bit about her husband and the woman he kept in the Indies, but nothing of an imminent illness. And what about her choice to raise a child not of her own? What else was there to her story? And why would Eveline ever agree to a grief-stricken future as the widow of a man who loved another?

But the principal question that consumed my thoughts now was why didn’t she tell me, even at Vauxhall? Why did she not tell me of her impending widowhood?