Ash stood in the center of the swirl of excitement that had migrated from the drawing room to the terrace by the early hours of the morning. Glasses clinked together repeatedly, and steam mixed with the smoke from cheroots as the gentlemen celebrated success.
“I, for one, am glad you didn’t take another day to polish the damn contraption before arriving in town, because I’d be across town in prison if you had,” Ash said with a thankful nod for Oliver Dean.
“St. James didn’t mention a deadline,” Dean countered.
“I can’t be expected to know when one of our own will decide to throw himself on his enemy’s sword,” St. James said, stepping into the conversation.
“Really?” Hardaway drew back in surprise. “You know everything else.”
“Except for Claughbane’s idiocy, it would seem,” St. James retorted.
“This was all part of my plan,” Ash said with a smile.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Hardaway laughed. “How did you make a single coin selling potions and tonics?”
“Desperation, mate. Neediness makes my lies more palatable.” Ash took a sip of his drink. “An honest company should be interesting, though.”
“That’ll be something new for all of us,” St. James mused in a low voice only the other Spare Heirs could hear.
“Mr. Claughbane, I believe,” Lord Rightworth said as he joined their conversation. “You’re quite the hero of the evening, much to the dismay of Lord Winfield and Lord Braxton alike.”
Ash turned and took a step away from the other Spares to respect the group’s secrecy. He looked at the older man. So much of his life had been spent in anticipation of destroying this man. Yet Ash hadn’t accomplished that task at all. If anything, he’d further lined his pockets.
Evie would be pleased at this outcome at least. Ash wasn’t certain of his own feelings on the matter—only that he now saw this man as Evie’s father and not a faceless man who’d destroyed his family. His long-ago promise to his mother would have to go unfulfilled, but somehow Ash thought she would understand. The plot against Rightworth was at an end, and if that didn’t please his mother, it certainly would please his living family members. And someday long from now, he would get an eternity to explain to his mother how everything had changed once he arrived in London and set eyes on Evie.
Either way, it was done.
But what did any of this mean for Ash?
“My apologies for interrupting your celebration,” he told Rightworth, with his mind still on Evie despite every other distraction the night had produced. “It wasn’t my intention.”
“Not your intention to find yourself in chains in the middle of my drawing room? I’m certain it wasn’t. I came as soon as I heard the commotion, but you seemed to have things well in hand by then.” The older man gave him a nod of approval.
“I had help.” Ash resisted the urge to look at the Spare Heirs, who were still gathered around Dean’s steam machine only a few paces away.
For the first time in his life, he was part of something greater than himself, and that alliance had proven its worth this evening. They’d created the first portable steam engine. Crosby Steam Works was real. He hadn’t sold a lie—he’d gathered investors in his steam works. He still hadn’t worked out what this meant for him, but he imagined it entailed being honest and staying in one city. Was he wealthy from legitimate funds now? He supposed so. Who would have guessed this outcome? Not Ash.
Lord Rightworth looked down at his feet for a moment before he spoke again. “I knew a Claughbane from the Isle of Man.”
“My father,” Ash stated. He’d waited for this conversation for seven years, and just like his expectations for the rest of this evening, this wasn’t the conversation he’d envisioned.
“Yes, I suspected as much,” Rightworth said, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t think your appearance here was one of coincidence. I…regret what happened all those years ago. I was desperate and…”
“I already know,” Ash said, thinking of Evie. He knew why this man had taken what he had. Ash’s father had lost everything on a poor hand of cards—a hand of cards he never should have played. Rightworth hadn’t stolen from them, no matter what Ash had convinced himself to believe to fuel his rage in his youth. He was willing to admit the truth now. Every circumstance in life was much more complicated than he’d once thought.
“Nonetheless, I’m sorry,” Rightworth said. “Regret is a terrible thing.”
“Yes, it is.” Ash took a breath. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with your daughter this season. I wished her well in her betrothal when I saw her earlier tonight. I hope she’ll be very happy as Lady Winfield.”
Rightworth paused, studying him. “You don’t know?”
Ash’s heart was somewhere between beating a wild rhythm and stopping altogether. Had something happened to Evie he wasn’t aware of? “Know what?”
“She refused Winfield.” There was a knowing gleam in her father’s eye that made Ash uneasy as Rightworth continued. “I believe her heart lies elsewhere.”
“She…” Ash’s words faded away as he tried to piece together their conversation in the parlor, but came up empty-handed. “She refused Winfield? She isn’t…”
“No,” Rightworth confirmed. “And Winfield was pleased enough to back away, after the spectacle of the evening. I don’t think he wanted a wife who knew her own mind, and I have no intention to force the issue. Evangeline deserves to be happy after what she’s endured at her mother’s hand. I should have intervened years ago.” He gave a humorless bark of laughter. “Yet another regret.”
Ash only nodded in response. Evie wasn’t going to marry another gentleman. The gray night tipped sideways as everything else he thought he knew came into question.
“I married that woman to align our families, out of duty to my title,” Rightworth continued. “I would call it a mistake if not for my daughters. One shouldn’t marry for such reasons.” The older man stared off across the dark gardens, lost in thought for a moment. Ash didn’t move, sensing their conversation wasn’t at an end. “I was never in favor of Winfield,” Rightworth finally said. “What does social position matter when you must spend your life in the company of someone whom you can barely tolerate? That’s no life, believe me.”
“Then, you’re advocating a love match for your daughter? Rather unconventional, don’t you agree?”
“You seem the sort to appreciate a lack of convention, Claughbane, much as I’ve seen you appreciate my daughter.”
“I…” Ash didn’t know how to respond. Of course he appreciated Evie. More than that, he loved her. Evie had made her views clear on the subject though, hadn’t she? She’d wanted him gone. And then she’d attempted to save his life…
“If you wish to call, we plan to be at home tomorrow. Excuse me, I have many things to see to now that the festivities are ending.”
Ash watched Evie’s father walk away. After years of planning the perfect revenge for the demise of his family, the moment had come and he was the one left reeling.
* * *
The excitement and surprise of the previous evening boiled over into a sludge of exhausted confusion the next morning. While her father had taken the news of Evangeline’s failed betrothal rather well—a fact she contributed to his anticipated wealth in steam—her mother had yet to emerge from her bedchamber.
Evangeline had seen her father for only a few minutes this morning before he disappeared into the library for the day. He’d looked uncomfortable for a moment before informing her that her mother would be taking some time away from city life to visit Great Aunt Mildred in Scotland. Evangeline would remain with her father while her mother was away—a fact he seemed quite pleased about.
“How long will she be in Scotland?” she’d asked.
“Indefinitely,” he’d replied, and they’d said nothing more on the subject.
Her mother’s reign over their family was at an end.
Evangeline had spent the remainder of the morning making a list. She wasn’t sure what her future held now, but she was determined it would contain at least some activities that interested her. She had to focus on herself now. Life must somehow go on. She curled further into the corner of the settee in the sunny front parlor, pulling the lap desk into the crook of her arm.
Learn to make an arrangement of daisies.
It was true, her heart was broken and would likely never mend, but she had helped set things right for Ash. She’d done the right thing for him. He was free to live his life as he chose now. And he’d chosen to walk away, just as she’d known he would since the beginning.
Watch birds in the park.
Her short-lived engagement had been shredded, the plan she’d maintained all season to find a husband falling to the floor with it. After last night, there would be no finding a husband, after all. She would need some means of…well…means, now. She could stay with her father for a time, but even that should come to an end. But she wasn’t afraid. Life wasn’t a thing to be feared; it was to be lived.
Learn to gamble on horses and cards.
Her mother had been mortified at the scene she’d caused, but Evangeline held no regrets for her actions. For the first time since that day when she was twelve, she wasn’t afraid of her mother. There was no pain or torment that woman could inflict on Evangeline that she couldn’t withstand—not anymore. And now they would likely never see one another again. Her father hadn’t said many words on the subject, but she now wondered if he’d spent many of his days being beat upon by that woman as well. Somehow with Evangeline’s show of force last night, her father had found his strength to stand up to his wife as well.
Visit the museum.
Evangeline was free. Alone, but free. Ash had seen to both outcomes in the end. She swallowed and closed her weary eyes for a moment. It was true that she’d become strong enough to overcome her fears at his side, because of him. But she would have to find a way to continue on by herself.
Eat more flavored ice.
Send weekly notes of apology to Sue.
Go back to the theater.
Purchase gloves that fit.
She squeezed her eyes shut again. She could spend the rest of her days eating ice and attending the theater, but neither would ever be the same as it had been with Ash. She no longer needed his strength to survive her life; however, she would want his company forever.
It wasn’t to be. Would he have left town by now?
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there envisioning him arriving in a new town, picturing the style of house he would make his home, his sly smile as he made plans for his future. He would be the centerpiece of her daydreams until she was old and wrinkled. For a time he’d been hers. He’d loved her, and she would carry that small serving of happiness with her forever.
A floorboard creaked by the parlor door and she opened her eyes. To her astonishment, Ash was standing in the doorway—but it wasn’t the sly smile she’d envisioned that covered his face. It was confusion.
“Ash,” she whispered as she stood.
“I was passing by… Damn.” He stopped, raking a hand through his hair. “That’s not true. I was on the other side of the city this morning.”
“My father is in the library if that was what you—”
“No, that’s not why I came.”
Her heart was in her throat. “What are you doing here?”
“Blundering my way through this conversation it would seem,” he admitted as he moved across the room toward her.
“Would you like…”
“Some tea? I don’t believe I could properly discuss the weather just now.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to take a turn around the garden. I’ve yet to be outdoors today.” She glanced down at her day dress. It was pale pink with no adornment, but she liked how soft it was beneath her bare fingers.
He stopped. “Of course,” he murmured and lifted his arm to offer her escort.
As she wrapped her hand over his arm, for a moment it was as if nothing had changed between them. Yet everything had. They walked in silence until they reached the outdoors, only communicating in small, curious glances.
They were down the steps and moving into the grass when Ash finally broke the silence. “I wanted to thank you for what you did last night.”
Was that the only reason he was here? To express his thanks? “You already thanked me,” she countered.
“So I did.”
“I find I rather enjoy causing a scene in the middle of a ballroom—much to my mother’s dismay,” she mused in an effort to lighten the strain of their conversation.
“I’m pleased I could be of service, then.” He took a breath and turned to look at her, stopping their movement through the garden. “Evie, I find I’m troubled by one small detail of last night.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “When you came to my defense and tried to explain away my actions before Mr. Dean with the steam machine, did you do so because it was the proper thing to do? Was it in the name of honor that you did it? Or was it…was I the reason you took such a risk?”
And there it was. The question she’d been steadily avoiding since yesterday. He was waiting for an answer, of course. He’d made no commitment to her. He was likely only curious, one last question before he left town. She wanted to be honest with him anyway. She had to, if only for her sake.
“I wanted to help you. When I saw the opportunity to mend things for you, I did what I must.”
“Then it was out of a sense of right and wrong.” He released a breath and cast his eyes down, his hands resting on his waist. “I thought there was a chance…but I suppose I should have known.”
“A chance? A chance of what?”
“You ended your betrothal to Winfield and assisted me in the same evening. I was hoping…” He muttered a curse and turned away from her. “This is clearly why I was able to sell bottles of love potion for such a high price.”
Was he mumbling about…love? She wasn’t certain if he loved her still, but she placed her hand on his shoulder anyway. “You have no need for bottles of love potion, Ash.”
“They’re raspberry liqueur,” he admitted, turning back to her.
“I’m not surprised.”
“Of course you aren’t.” An overwhelming sadness filled his eyes as he looked at her. “You’re fully acquainted with my worst qualities.”
“I’m well acquainted with all of your qualities,” she replied. It was time to know her own mind. It was time to dare to live, to seize an opportunity for happiness and hold on tight. “I loved you last year when you left me in that hall wondering when I would see you again.”
“Oh, well, about that—” he began to argue, but stopped when he truly heard her words.
“I loved you when you kissed me to make your escape at the first ball this season.”
“Evie…” He murmured her name as he studied her face in awe.
“I loved you when you had my father invest in a scheme you thought to be false.”
“When you list it out in such a manner…” he began, but stopped when she grabbed his hand and wrapped her fingers through his.
She stepped closer until she was looking up to meet his gaze. “I loved you when you took me to the theater.”
“Clearly that didn’t go exactly as I’d—”
“And I love you now,” she declared as she pulled his arm around her waist with their entwined hands.
“You do.” It wasn’t a question so much as a confirmation of fact.
“I do. Even if I must borrow Lord Braxton’s manacles and chains to keep you with me, I want to be with you, Ashley Claughbane.”
“You can keep me without chains, Evie. You’ve already done so for some time. I couldn’t run last night, not even to save my own skin. I couldn’t leave you.”
“And now? What if you leave with me?”
“Stapleton has my carriage out front, but I won’t steal you, Evie. I want you to be my wife. I want a home with you, a future that stretches out forever.”
“I want you, Ash. I want you to kiss me, steal me away in your carriage, and make me your wife.”
“You only need ask,” he said against her lips as he kissed her.
As Ash swept her up in his arms and carried her away, she saw her father watching from the library window. A strand of her hair caught on the breeze and whipped across her face, reminding her that she wore no hat, no gloves, and not a single bit of jewelry adorned her neck. Yet, none of it mattered. Ash loved who she truly was beneath her veneer of lies, and she loved him—this untitled swindler who’d stolen her heart. She grinned and wrapped her arms farther around Ash’s shoulders, and her father nodded in return.
Her summer of madness, this season of rebellion, and following her heart had led her to Ash. And she would spend the remainder of her life happily telling the man she loved that she wanted him to kiss her again and again and again.