Evie woke up the following morning to a parcel at the foot of her bed.
Peeling back the paper, she saw a set of paints and brushes, and a small note accompanying them. She unrolled the parchment quickly, already knowing exactly who had sent them.
Evie,
I hope that this is enough for you to start. In truth, I haven’t the first clue about painting and what is required to do so, but after our meeting yesterday, I went to the first place that I found, and the owner helped me.
I want you to remember that this is our one life. I want you to always give it your all, and that means doing what you want—and seeing who you want. If that means painting and seeing such unsavory characters as myself, then you must do it. You cannot waste away forever simply because of some guilt you feel for a crime that you did not commit.
Do you remember the day we met? I certainly do. I don’t suppose I ever truly explained why I was there. I told you my motive, but not why I was exactly in that position at that moment.
I suppose that now is as good a time as any to confess. I was investigating the grounds, and I had come from the summer home. You must know which I mean. I am there right now, as you are reading this, waiting for you.
I know that you told me not to come here anymore, and that it is too dangerous, but believe me, I have it all in hand. I believe I shall see you soon.”
Evie smiled, putting the note away. He was a relentless man, but she appreciated it greatly. Nobody had ever gone so far out of their way for her before, besides Francesca and Rose and her own father, and she couldn’t help but feel touched by it even if she did not understand why he felt such a way about her.
Fortunately, there was work to do in that part of the grounds that day, and she was more than happy to take on the tasks. It would be long, especially given that she would have much of her day taken up by their guest, but she was more than happy to do it. It was, as the marquess said, it was her one life, and she had to get her enjoyment where she could.
As promised, he was waiting in the summer house for her, sitting at a table. She was, as always, pleased to see him and seated herself across from him.
“Thank you,” she said gently. “This is more than I have ever received all at once.”
“It is only paint.”
Evie’s face flushed, and she pushed the gift back toward him.
“You must not realize what you have purchased,” she explained. “The owner must have seen that you did not know anything and given you what was the most expensive. This is too much if you do not know what you have purchased. I cannot accept it.”
He chuckled at her, pushing it all back to her in return.
“I am aware of the cost. I paid for it, after all. I am more than happy with it, especially if, as you say, they are of high quality.”
“It is too much,” she insisted.
“Then perhaps you could pay me back in kind?”
She blinked at him.
“How do you suppose I do that?”
“You could paint me. That way, I will have at least gained a work of art out of it.”
“I am out of practice,” she protested.
“Then what better reason to practice than painting a dear friend? Evie, you do not need to speak down on yourself any longer. I want you to succeed. Why is it so hard for you to believe that?”
He was right, and she knew he was, and she wanted to believe it was true, and so with a sigh and a smile she took the supplies. He handed her a canvas that had been hidden behind him.
“You were expecting me to paint you, weren’t you?” she asked, grinning at him.
“I may or may not have been hoping.” He shrugged. “Now, how would you like me to be?”
Evie looked at him for a moment, considering different poses before deciding on the perfect one.
“Tilt your head,” she instructed, “as if you are looking out of the window.”
“Like this?” he asked, turning slightly until the sun shone perfectly on his face.
“Yes, just like that. Do not move.”
As Evie began sketching out the rough features, she tried not to think about how handsome he was. The task was daunting, even, because she had to capture his looks, and she had not painted in such a long time that she was wholly unsure that she would be able to do it.
Fortunately, it all seemed to come back to her, and she began adding in finer details. It would not be the most detailed work in existence, but she would be happy with it.
Then, as she began adding details to his face, she felt a strange familiarity come over her. She had seen it before, and even though she had seen the marquess often up to that point, it felt as though it was more than that. She had seen him a dozen times before, not a handful of them, and it felt strange.
Perhaps that was why he was being so kind to her all of a sudden. He knew who she was now, and it had seemed to change everything.
“You know,” she said as she painted, “you seem very familiar to me.”
He did not answer, remaining perfectly still and silent. He was quite clearly taking his role as a painting subject extremely seriously, but Evie needed answers rather than a man to paint.
“I am surprised that I haven’t noticed before,” she continued. “But then, you did not either, I suppose. It is strange because I would have thought that you were the sort of gentleman to declare such a thing, especially when he cares for someone.”
That did not seem to be enough for him to speak, either, but she could see from looking at his eyes that they were changing. He was deep in thought, and she had him. She was sure of it.
“We have met before, haven’t we?” she asked, and at last he broke.
He sighed and turned to her, smiling. Now that he was looking at her directly, she was sure of it. She had looked at him so many times before, but it was different now. He looked different now that she had dared to look closer than she ever had.
His smile told her everything. At last, she had uncovered a secret of his, for she was positive that she had never known a marquess.
“Who are you?”
With a sigh, he leaned forward before motioning to one of the sofas nearby. They stood up and moved to it, and Evie stared at him, willing him to tell her everything.
“You are correct,” he confessed. “We knew each other years ago, as children. Our fathers were good friends, and I believe that we may even have been promised to one another as children, although I do not believe either of our fathers would have held us to it. The truth is, Evie, that you and I have known each other since long before you believed us to meet.”
“Why did you keep that from me?” she asked with a gasp. “I would have trusted you sooner, and—Who are you?”
“Do you truly still not recognize me?”
She looked at him once more, trying with everything in her to see past his age and picture him as a boy. Dark hair and piercing blue eyes, but a little more inclined to smile…
She could see him, a boy a little taller than she was, asking her to go to visit the horses with him. He liked them a great deal, though his father claimed he was not yet ready to ride one of that size. He had to be protected, even though he had a younger brother, because dukes had to be well taken care of.
“A duke,” she breathed. “You are…You are a duke?”
“The Duke of Alnwick, to be precise.”
“Yes, of course…My father spoke of the late Duke of Alnwick often, though he had not passed at the time, of course. He was a good friend of his, and I had often thought to locate him, but then my aunt and uncle arrived and everything changed so quickly that it did not cross my mind after that.”
“He did not blame you. He only hoped that you were safe. Your father’s death was difficult for him, you see, as they were good friends. That is why he instructed me to find you when he passed. He needed to know that someone cared for you enough to ensure your happiness.”
“Then, if you knew who I was, why did you hide the truth from me?”
“I had to conceal my identity. I could not have it be known that I, a duke, was trying to locate a young lady. Especially not one in a situation as precarious as yours, not that I was aware of that. I had to remain unknown to find you, and now I have.”
“And that is all this was?” she asked, a sudden ache in her chest. “You had to find me for your father, and now that you have, your promise is fulfilled, and you are done with me, is that it?”
“No! No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Because what else could you possibly want with me?” She sighed. “It is not as though I can offer you anything. I am a maid, and—”
“I wish that you would stop referring to yourself like that. You are not a maid. You are a lady of good upbringing, and you should be out in society now rather than slaving away for a group of liars. That is what they are, Evie.”
“They may not be.”
“They are! I am to see your father’s solicitor today, and they will prove to me that your father’s papers were in order and that your aunt and uncle took advantage of a young girl who simply wished to help her family. Once that is proven, will you please just—just live the way you wish to live?”
His stammer had suggested that he truly wished to say something else, and she couldn’t help but admit that she had wished the same thing.
“I do not understand,” she whispered. “If you knew of my identity, or even when you discovered it, why did you continue to see me? You had done what you had promised. You were no longer under any obligation to be around me.”
“Have you not considered that I enjoy being in your company?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, that is how it was. At first, to be sure, it was to find the girl I was looking for, but the more time that we spent with one another the more that I realized how much I liked you.”
“Then why did you give my family, and myself for that matter, a false name?”
“It was for your protection, as well as my own. I knew that the real marquess was not in London for the Season, and it was a guess that your aunt and uncle would not know, and to my good fortune, they did not. I could not tell them who I truly was, for they would not have taken kindly to the son of their brother’s closest friend asking after you. I had to be careful, and that extended to my behavior around their staff.”
“Myself included,” she said with a small nod.
“Regretfully so. Even after I discovered your true identity, I couldn’t help but think it had gone too far for me to admit the truth. I liked you so much that I did not want to admit that I had been lying to you. You told me how much you appreciated my honesty, and it threw me completely because I was being so terribly untruthful to you that I knew you would never forgive me.”
“I would have!” she exclaimed. “And I do. It is all so much to take in, but I understand. You did what you thought was best. You always do what you think is best.”
“I try to.” He sighed. “It is as I told you, I am not the man my father was. He would have gone about this in an entirely different manner.”
“That does not signify, because against all odds, you found me, and you stayed. You shall never know how much I appreciate the fact that you stayed.”
They were sitting agonizingly close to one another, and she swore she could hear his heartbeat even though she was not leaning against his chest as she had done before.
“What do you suppose is for the best, now?” she asked.
“This.”
And suddenly, that awful space between them that she had loathed so utterly and entirely was closed. His lips were pressed against hers, and for that short moment, everything melted away. She knew what a kiss was, but she had never once thought that something could be so delicate and yet passionate.
She hoped that it said everything that she wanted to say.
They broke apart, and she could feel the heat from her face. She knew that her hair was a mess and her dress was most unbecoming for someone a duke would take a liking to, but the way he looked at her made her believe him.
“What happens now?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Now, I am going to clear your father’s name,” he explained. “And from there, we shall decide together what we wish to do. I want you to know what you wish to happen, and to act on it for me. Can you do that?”
In spite of how unsure she felt, she nodded at him. She wanted to know, and she wanted to do it, and he made her so sure of herself that she would find a way, she was positive about it.
As they walked back to the edge of the grounds, Evie felt herself growing less and less concerned about being seen. If she was caught, she was caught, and that was dangerous. She could not afford to have that sort of viewpoint, but it was impossible not to feel safe when she was with the duke.
It felt incredibly strange to see him as a duke, but he carried himself like one much more than he did a marquess. It certainly explained his presence, at least.
There was another presence, however, that required an explanation. It was his footman, who seemed rather frantic.
“Your Grace, you must come now,” he explained quickly. “It is urgent.”
“What is it?” the duke asked.
“It is your brother. He has been attacked.”