Eva was still in bed the next morning when Laurel returned from the dining room holding a tray laden with tea, eggs, ham, and toast.
“I know you’re out of sorts,” Laurel said, “but please humor me and eat something.” She set the tray on the bed, and the delicious aromas tickled Eva’s nose.
Eva sat up and shot her friend a grateful smile. “I’m starving, if you want to know the truth.” She had pleaded a headache last night so she wouldn’t have to face Jack at dinner, and she’d been too upset to eat from the tray that Lady Rufflebum had kindly sent up.
“I’m glad to hear that you’re feeling better,” Laurel said tentatively. “Because I’ve just received some news.”
Eva bit the corner of her toast. “I didn’t say that I felt better.” She was still dead on the inside. Just the shell of a person who happened to be craving blackberry jam. “But I shall survive the day at least. If we weren’t returning to London this afternoon, I’d insist on barricading myself in this room for the remainder of the house party.”
Laurel winced. “Yes, about that…”
Eva set down her toast, wary. “You promised we could leave today.”
“I know. But while I was downstairs just now, I received word that your father is on his way here.”
“Papa’s coming here?” Eva said, incredulous. “To Bellehaven Bay?”
Laurel worried her lip. “He should arrive by luncheon.”
“I don’t understand. Papa hates to travel. Why would he come?” Eva leaned against the headboard, aghast.
“Apparently, Lord Frostbough invited him a couple of days ago. I suppose your father felt he couldn’t refuse.” Laurel paced the length of the bedchamber. “I’m afraid we’ll have to stay a few more days at least.”
Eva gripped the edges of her tray, valiantly fighting the urge to fling her eggs at the wall in protest. “How dare he? The earl had no right to involve Papa in his twisted scheme.”
Laurel’s forehead creased. “What scheme?”
“It’s beside the point now,” Eva grumbled. “We’ll stay one more night, and then I’ll concoct an excuse so that we may all leave this horrid den of deception.”
“I wouldn’t call it horrid,” Laurel ventured. “Our hostess and the duchess have been incredibly gracious. And Eleanor and her brother are a delight.”
“Unfortunately, their good natures are overshadowed by one very large and exceedingly evil earl. The sooner we are gone, the better.”
“Indeed,” Laurel said soothingly. “But there’s another bit of news I must relay.”
Eva braced herself. “More news?”
Laurel wrung her hands. “It seems your father isn’t the only other guest that Lady Rufflebum’s expecting.”
“Pray, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“The Duke of Northcott is also on his way. Expected to arrive later this evening.”
Sweet Jesus. It shouldn’t have surprised Eva that the reclusive duke, who never ventured away from his country estate would pick this occasion to make an appearance. “I presume the earl requested his presence as well?” Eva couldn’t imagine what Jack hoped to accomplish by having both their fathers under the same roof. But, considering the hate he still harbored in his heart, his intentions in arranging a meeting couldn’t be good.
Laurel shook her head. “It’s my understanding that the duchess wrote to the duke and encouraged him to come. No one imagined he’d actually make the trip … but the speculation downstairs is that His Grace couldn’t resist the chance to meet you.”
“Well, the duke is destined for disappointment, isn’t he?” Eva’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “No hearts have been captured. Do you want to know why?”
Laurel cringed. “Yes?”
“It turns out that the earl doesn’t have a heart.” Eva waved her butter knife for emphasis, and Laurel took a prudent step back. “There’s nothing but rubble inside his chest,” she ranted. “Piles of stone, dirt, and charred wood. You could find enough ruins to rival the Acropolis in there.”
“I see.” Laurel approached carefully and gave Eva’s shoulder a sympathetic pat. “Clearly, you and the earl have had a row. In the interest of avoiding further confrontation, I think you should remain here in our room until we’re ready to leave for London. I’ll say you’re indisposed and must remain in bed.”
“No.” Eva set aside her breakfast tray, hopped out of bed, and marched to the wardrobe.
“No?” Laurel asked, clearly confused.
Eva yanked a green day gown off its hook and threw it on the bed, then knelt in front of her traveling trunk, searching for her corset. “I’ll not leave Papa to face the wolves alone. I intend to be dressed and ready to greet him when he arrives.”
“That’s the spirit,” Laurel said, half encouragement, half bewilderment. “Who, precisely, are the wolves?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Eva muttered. “As always, our best defenses are quick wits and confidence-enhancing gowns.”
Laurel grinned. “Then we had better get you out of that nightgown.”
Three hours later Eva and her father were strolling through Lady Rufflebum’s greenhouse, their arms linked. Flanked by rows of carefully tended and immaculately pruned plants, they soaked in the earthy smells and colorful blossoms of summer.
And now that Papa was there, Eva realized just how much she’d missed him.
“I’m glad to finally have you to myself,” she said. “I hope it hasn’t been too trying, dealing with all the guests. I know you’re unaccustomed to mingling with duchesses and countesses.”
“I’ll admit I’m a bit rusty. But I haven’t completely forgotten how to comport myself in polite company,” he said with a chuckle. “It helped that I received such a warm welcome from the duchess and Lady Rufflebum. Everyone has sought to put me at ease—especially you.”
She gave his arm a squeeze, and they paused to admire half a dozen orchids boasting gorgeous petals of white, pink, and purple.
“It makes you think anything’s possible, doesn’t it?” Papa asked. “If these delicate plants can grow in the dead of winter, perhaps love can blossom, too.”
Oh dear. “I know you had your heart set on me marrying Lord Goulding,” she said. “And no one was more surprised than I was to find him here at the house party. He’s a kind and decent gentleman, but there’s no spark between us, Papa.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the marquess,” he admitted.
Sensing he was about to steer the conversation toward Jack, Eva did a quick sidestep. “I believe the holiday has made you quite sentimental,” she teased. “And speaking of the holiday, I want to give you your Christmas present. I know it’s a bit early, but I can’t wait.”
She pulled the watch from her reticule, placed it in his hand, and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Papa.”
He stared at the gold casing for several seconds, speechless.
“It’s really my watch?” His hand trembled as he turned it over, and when he saw the familiar engraving tears filled his eyes. “Thank you, my dear. I don’t deserve it, but I’m eternally grateful.”
“Nonsense. Of course you deserve it. Lord Frostbough should never have swindled you out of it.”
“No. I was too careless,” Papa said. “And one should never be cavalier when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“I won’t allow you to blame yourself.” Eva patted his shoulder. “Not when the earl is clearly the villain of this little tale.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Frostbough pulled me aside earlier.”
The hairs stood up on the back of Eva’s arms. “He did?”
Papa nodded. “He apologized for taking the watch. Said he shouldn’t have accepted something so personal in a wager.”
Eva blinked, stunned. She hadn’t thought Jack capable of an apology—or of seeing any viewpoint beside his own. “May I ask you something?” she ventured.
Papa beamed at her. “Of course.”
“When you and Mama eloped, was she engaged to someone else?”
“Ah. I thought this might come up.” He pointed to a bench nestled between two pear trees. “Let’s sit, shall we?”
Eva sat beside him and nervously smoothed the skirt of her gown. She’d asked Papa the question, but she wasn’t at all certain she wanted to hear the answer.
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” he began. “But your grandfather wanted your mother to wed the Duke of Northcott—Frostbough’s father—and decreed it would be so. Your mama and I were already madly in love, but her father wouldn’t hear of her marrying a mere viscount when he could have a duke for a son-in-law.” Papa sighed. “So, yes. Your mother was engaged when we eloped. But I don’t think she had any regrets.”
“Nor do I,” Eva said firmly. She hesitated for a beat, then added, “The duke is arriving today as well. Will that be terribly awkward for you?”
“No,” Papa replied, as if he was surprised by the question. “I’m not ashamed that I married your mother—just the opposite. And I assume that the years have healed any wounds that Northcott might have suffered at the time.”
“One would think,” Eva mused.
“Some days I still can’t believe that she passed up the chance to be a duchess—just so she could be with me.”
“You made her very happy, Papa.”
“I tried,” he said. “That’s not to say I always succeeded. We fought sometimes, just like you and Frostbough.”
“No, Lord Frostbough and I are nothing like you and Mama,” Eva said.
“You can’t deny that there’s a spark.”
“Oh, there’s a spark,” she countered. “The sort that’s dangerous and difficult to control. The kind that could burn an entire village right down to the ground.”
“Love is indeed a powerful force,” he said sagely. “But it can be channeled in the right direction.”
“Truly?” she asked, skeptical. “And how might one accomplish such a feat?”
Papa faced her and smiled. “You simply have to acknowledge that fiery spark for what it is—love. And that changes everything.”
Eva didn’t have the heart to tell him that she and Jack were a hopeless case, so she mustered a smile. “How did you become so wise?”
“I learn something with every mistake, and I’ve made plenty,” he said with a laugh. “Such as trying to facilitate a match between you and Lord Goulding. I shouldn’t have pressured you to marry anyone at all. I just don’t want to be the reason you don’t chase your own dreams and make your own mistakes.”
If Papa only knew how many mistakes she’d made over the last few weeks. “I think I understand. I promise to keep an open mind.”
“And heart,” he added, kissing her on the forehead.
“And heart,” she repeated. “But you must do the same.”
“It’s funny you should say that…”
If Eva didn’t know better, she’d think her father was blushing. “Papa! Do you fancy someone?”
“No,” he stammered. “Well, perhaps. What do you think of Lady Beckham?”
“Eleanor?” Eva struggled to make her tongue function properly. “Why, she’s delightful.”
“Good to know,” Papa said gruffly. “That was my first impression, too. I shall look forward to furthering our acquaintance.”
“Wear your blue waistcoat at dinner tonight,” Eva advised. “It makes you look very dashing.”
He gave a brusque wave. “That’s enough of that. Shall we return to the drawing room?”
As they stood and started to leave the greenhouse, a patter soft as a cat’s footsteps sounded overhead. Eva looked up through the wide glass panels overhead where fat, fluffy white flakes fell from the sky. “Goodness. I hope this squall doesn’t amount to much. I’m eager to return home.”
“I had a feeling that a snowstorm was building,” Papa said. “And my knees are telling me it’s going to be a big one.”