Fourteen

Eveline

Zachary’s words hit the mark once again.

First, on the morning he confronted me in the stables, he said he believed that the men interested in me were most likely only drawn to my money. The words cut me to the quick but the truth usually does. Then, the day before yesterday, Zach made it clear to anyone within earshot that my skill in archery was never a threat. This following the comment by Lord Trenton suggesting women could only have a passable talent in archery.

Indeed, why would a woman find such malice attractive? No wonder there were so many aging wealthy women who chose to remain unmarried. If this was a hint of what’s to come in the Season… I’ll pass.

As the sixth day of the house party began, I was ready to return home. But since Hunter and Gwendolyn went out of their way to make the event special for Jaxon—though he rarely joined in—I agreed to stay and reinforced my confidence by spending more time with Patrick.

On our early morning walk around the gardens, we stumbled upon the seldom seen Lord Jaxon while he read a book at the edge of Gottling’s Under the Sea fountain.

Upon seeing us, he stood straightaway and bowed.

“Hello, Lord Jaxon.” I curtsied. “I apologize for disturbing your peace.”

His smile, so warm and friendly, encouraged me to smile in return. I heard through Helena and Gwendolyn that Jaxon’s recovery faced occasional setbacks, but at this moment, he appeared as handsome as ever in a dark blue coat that matched his eyes and beige breeches. In truth, all four friends were exceedingly handsome in their own ways.

Lord Jaxon continued, “Though I have claimed this precise location quite frequently, I cannot keep the garden entirely to myself.”

“It is a wonderful place to keep if one could,” I said, as I watched Patrick shuffle off toward the walking stones where he spied a caterpillar inching its way to freedom. He dropped to his knees to examine it.

“I am sorry for your loss, Mrs. Turner,” Jaxon offered sincere comfort in his words. “Death is an inevitable companion, but certainly not a friend.”

I clasped my hands in front of my dress. “I imagine you saw a lot of it on the continent.”

“Fortunately, I cannot recall much around the time of my injury, but we all experienced the dark side of war. Mostly Zachary.”

Zachary. The image of the man behind the name did not cause as much heartache today as it did in the days before. “He did?”

“Sadly, yes.” Jaxon looked past me and at the low hanging clouds in the distance. “He buried sixty-eight of his men within three days.”

“Sixty-eight? That is dreadful.”

“Many more on the peninsula the year before.”

I clamped my palm over my mouth. “I had no idea.”

“There is a lot we tend to keep to ourselves. That is why the wounds are likely to emerge in less agreeable ways… even ill-conceived ways.”

What did Lord Jaxon intend? He had not even been present to witness Zach’s flawed behavior toward me. Did he wish for me to ignore Zach’s harshness?

“Are you suggesting Lord Zachary should be allowed to behave in such a manner, regardless?”

“Not in the least.” He shook his head. “I’m only saying that the scars we carry are deep.”

“Scars?”

“Certainly.” He took a solemn breath. “We all have them, but some hide them better than others.”

I brushed an errant strand of hair off my forehead and tucked it behind my ear. “The drinking.”

He smiled partway. “War affects us all differently, Mrs. Turner. Despite how hard Zach has tried to brush his pain aside, it must come out somehow. Lucas volunteers at the Greenwich Hospital, Hunter is a part-time pugilist, I…” He lifted his book. “I read.”

“And Lord Zachary drinks.”

“Unfortunately, he turned to alcohol, but I have faith in my mate. I believe once he finds his purpose, he will begin to heal.”

I turned to watch Patrick attempt to force the caterpillar to crawl up his finger. If only something that simple were our utmost challenge. I faced the gentleman once more. “What are you asking of me, Lord Jaxon?”

He exhaled and stood to his feet. “Grace, ma’am. That is all, just a little grace.” He bowed and disappeared.

I took the seat he vacated and tried to comprehend the perplexing conversation. Was any of this coming from Zachary or just from his friend watching from the outside? How much did he know about our shared childhood or the insults he dispensed this week? Zachary and Jaxon were close, much like brothers, but would Zachary truly divulge his weaknesses, or might he be too proud to profess so Jaxon must defend him? I groaned at yet another mystifying puzzle piece added to the already complicated situation.

I didn’t see Zachary at all yesterday, this morning, or the rest of today as we once again engaged in outdoor yard games, but as the day wore on, I once again felt overwhelmed by the growing attachments of three men in particular, Sir Charles, Viscount Glade, and Lord Trenton.

Wouldn’t any woman be flattered by the attention these men offered? But I found myself only exhausted by it.

“Mrs. Turner, the silver lace in your dress accents the silver streaks in your beautiful brown eyes.”

“I can only imagine, Mrs. Turner, that one so stunning as you would have an equally lovely singing voice. Please share it with us tonight in the parlor.”

“Such elegant grace with the way you play lawn bowls, Mrs. Turner. Why, every woman must be envious of your posture.”

“Allow me to be your partner for the next game of whist, Mrs. Turner, your skill in the game emphasizes your intelligence.”

“May I please escort you on a walk through the woods, Mrs. Turner? I find I can’t bear to be long from your presence.”

And all of that was declared only today. Shortly thereafter, I excused myself early, requested a tray for dinner, and retired for the night.

The next morning, I missed breakfast entirely and went straight to the nursery.

“The nurses took the children outside, Mrs. Turner,” said the maid who went about cleaning the room.

“Both Patrick and Banja went?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“To the garden?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she repeated.

The thought brought a pleasant warmth to my heart. I loved that Patrick had the occasion to experience what life offered in the country, much like I did in my youth.

As I slipped outside, careful to avoid both the breakfast room and the parlor doors, I walked around the side of the estate toward the garden.

A man’s voice emerged as I approached and compelled me to stop behind a substantial bougainvillea bush. The purple blooms kept me suitably hidden.

“See Patrick, if you hold very still, they will come to you.”

I know that voice.

I peeked around just enough to see Zachary positioning Patrick’s arms in the best way for a fluttering butterfly to perch upon.

The hollow between the pink hydrangeas and the fountain had become somewhat of a butterfly habitat all in itself as multitudes upon multitudes descended. Right then, a bright blue butterfly landed on Patrick’s sleeve, and he giggled. Giggled! I had never heard that sound come from him. I clasped my hands together joyfully and held my fists close to my mouth as I waited for more, soaking in the boy’s happiness.

I marveled at the notion that Zach, of all people, was here, offering to help my son. I peeked again and saw Banja resisting interference, standing a fair distance away. I didn’t even know Zach liked children.

I remained hidden behind the bush for several more minutes, listening to the playful interchange between the two. This did not help in my resolve to ignore Zach. In truth, it only warmed me toward him and reminded me of how tender the old Zach could be.

I cannot allow my heart to soften.

Especially now that he and Lady Victoria have grown closer. The striking blond is the daughter of an earl, she’s of marrying age, with a dainty figure and a substantial dowry. She fits Zach’s preference in a woman, precisely.

I stepped out from my hiding spot and Patrick lit up at my appearance. “See Mama?” he shouted, and my smile beamed. He had never called me Mama before. My heart melted. Then I glanced at Zach and the way he tilted his head. A slight breeze rustled his hair and one loose strand fell forward and rested upon his eyelash as his lips curved into the simplest of smiles. My heart now crumbled.

He appeared precisely how he had before he went to war. Happy and sober . For a few mere seconds I could not pull my eyes away and it seemed as if he could not either. Finally, he cleared his throat and stood upright, tugging on his cream-colored cravat as if it wasn’t already perfectly positioned at his neck.

“Now you know how to attract a butterfly, Patrick.” He patted him on the shoulder and with a simple bob of his head in my direction, he stepped past me. I fought to keep my hands clasped. I had never wanted to reach out and prevent someone from leaving so much.

The lingering scent of his bergamot made it worse, and a sudden sadness overcame me. I missed him.

Just then, he whipped around so suddenly it caught me off balance and I wobbled as he reached out to keep me upright. “Forgive me, Mrs. Turner.”

I felt the heat of his touch seep through the fabric of my sleeve and tingle the skin on my arm. Once he seemed assured I would not fall, he let go.

“I owe you a bevy of apologies, and well…” He took a deep breath. “Though I have no right to ask for it, I hope you might forgive me. I have been a beast to you.”

I felt tears prick behind my eyes and tried hard to keep them at bay.

“I assure you…” he whispered. “It will not happen again.”

Though “gentle Zach” stood before me pleading for my forgiveness, I had no illusions that we would suddenly resume our friendship from before. His stiff posture ensured his desire to keep his distance.

I smiled. “You know I can never stay cross at you for long.” I attempted a tease.

Zach’s strong, angled jaw tightened with what I knew to be his greatest source of self-control. While his words said one thing, his actions shared a different story.

I took a step backward toward Patrick. “I have already forgiven you, Zach, but thank you for saying this all the same.”

His eyes lingered on me for longer than I expected.

I tilted my head in his direction. “Would you do me one small courtesy as recompense?” I asked.

He seemed torn.

I didn’t wait for him to respond. “Please call me Eveline or Evie. We may be different people now, but you have known me longer than anyone here. I believe that allows for some familiarity.”

The way his warm gaze traced over me set my insides on fire. I needed to protect my heart. I offered a quick curtsy and circled around to where Patrick now squatted in the grass. Bending over him, I kissed his forehead and asked, “Are you having fun here?”

He looked up with glistening eyes and smiled wide. “Yes, I love it here.” He giggled again, and I didn’t think my heart could grow any bigger without breaking a rib.

A significant amount of time passed before I heard Zach’s footsteps retreat and I wondered why. If he could not wait to be away from me, why did he linger so?

As I sat down on a nearby bench and watched Patrick as he tried to be a perch for several more butterflies, I gently pushed the thought of Zach’s touch and charm aside and that opened up room in my mind for the strangest consideration.

I now had the means to buy a country estate.

One of our own. One where Patrick could grow up and inherit when he comes of age. That’s precisely what his father would wish for him.

“Patrick, would you like to take a walk with me?”

He laughed out loud now as another butterfly landed on his shoulder and shouted, “yes”, to my question. Waving goodbye to Banja, he placed his hand in mine as we stepped out of the garden and through the field of wildflowers toward a cluster of trees. I had located a creek close by with a wooden bridge and knew Patrick would enjoy seeing the fish and maybe even throwing a rock or two. All the while, allowing the dream of a country estate, and all its possibilities, to bloom in my heart.