Rebel Dreams (36 page)

“I wish there were something I could do,” Evelyn said
morosely. “When my father was ill, I managed to keep busy and felt useful, even
if I could not make him well. Here I can do nothing, and I feel guilty that
Lord Cranville’s illness is partially my fault.”

“That is nonsense.” Alyson threw her threads and needles in
a nearby basket. “Father had this same inflammation of the lungs last year. His
physician advised that he return to warmer climes, but he was enjoying himself
too much here. The decision to stay was his alone. Marrying Alex is the best
thing you could have done for either of them.”

Evelyn said nothing, and Alyson continued. “I suspect if you
mention to Deirdre that you have a talent for business, she will happily unload
the household finances on you. She detests bookwork, and with Father ill and
Alex so busy, there is no one to help her.”

That was something Evelyn could do, and she nodded
gratefully. Only then did she remember that Alex had never mentioned to his
family that she had operated a warehouse and knew bookkeeping. Perhaps Lord
Cranville had said something. She was surprised that Lady Alyson did not frown
upon such a plebeian occupation, but the earl’s daughter tossed the matter out
as if she spoke the price of butter.

“Thank you, I will do that. Alex is gone so much of the time
that I seldom have time to talk with him about such things.”

Alyson gestured dismissively as she rose to capture her
straying husband. “Should you find yourself less than occupied, you need only
visit my home. I have two little rogues who wear out more nursemaids and
governesses than any ten children. They would be happy to do the same for
anyone else foolish enough to volunteer to care for them a little while.”

The family gathering broke up shortly afterward, but Alex
remained in the downstairs study while Evelyn made her way to bed. The huge
suite seemed icy, though warm fires burned in the grates. The maid Deirdre had
assigned her removed the lovely gown the dressmaker had brought just that day.
Deirdre had been the one to hire a mantua-maker to see that Evelyn was
adequately gowned, and Deirdre had been the one to introduce her to servants
and family. Alex had remained aloof and remote, and she felt his distance as
much as the icy chill of these rooms.

If she only knew why he avoided her, perhaps she could deal
with the problem. Surely he did not really believe she had encouraged Thomas
Henderson? Her solicitor had called to leave his new address and visit for a
few minutes, but there was nothing wrong in that. But then, there had been
nothing wrong in viewing the whales the night that Alex had practically
attacked her. She had thought it had only been the liquor and his fears for the
earl speaking that night. Perhaps she was wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

There was such a distance between their rooms that she did
not even know when Alex finally retired. He entered through his own door,
avoiding hers as he had every night since they arrived.

***

Henderson called again the next day to see if Evelyn would
care to drive in the park or view the sights of London, since her husband was
too busy to escort her. Christmas was a week away, and she had done no
shopping. She consented without a second thought.

When they returned laughing, their arms full of packages,
Alex was waiting for them. Evelyn caught sight of his black glare but blithely
ignored it, surrendering her packages to a maid and her pelisse to a footman.
Henderson had no such options. Once the packages were safely on their way
upstairs, he had to face Alex.

“Good evening, Hampton. Home early for a change?” Challenge tinged
his voice.

“I needed to see about a few papers Cranville was holding
for me,” Alex replied. “I need to make some decision as to how to use them.
Perhaps you and I might discuss them sometime.”

Though said calmly so as not to cause notice among the servants,
Alex’s words hid a silky threat that Evelyn heard plainly. She glanced between
the two men and felt their scowls. Without wishing to know what inane game they
played, she lifted her skirts and took her leave of them. “I am off to brush
the icicles out of my hair, gentlemen, if you will excuse me.” She sidestepped
the massive obstruction of her husband to ascend the stairs after the maid.

Alex waited for the other man to take up his offer or leave.
Henderson returned his hat to his head. “Your wife has my address. Call on me if
you wish.”

Alex cursed as the man escaped under the protection of the
servants. Swinging on his heel and starting after Evelyn, he halted abruptly,
remembering the last time he had tried to warn her away from Henderson. That
fiasco flared large in his mind, forcing him to retreat into the study. He
reached for a brandy, caught himself, and shoved his hands into his pockets.
Somehow he had to sort out this mess he had made of their lives, but he couldn’t
do it with drink.

He had no idea if he had ruined their chances of an
annulment. He had meant to persuade Evelyn that she didn’t want to end their
marriage at all, but after that night he feared she despised him. Perhaps if he
could arrange to have her charges dropped, Evelyn might speak to him without
scorn again.

Not that he had given her much chance to speak to him except
in company. She was making a coward of him. Evelyn appeared to be adjusting
nicely to his home. He didn’t wish to disturb the peace with his usual rash
words. Perhaps he was just learning caution. Sighing, he picked up a pen and busied
himself with work.

Upstairs, Evelyn waited for Alex to follow and vent his
anger. It had been exciting to get out of the house and explore a new world
today. Henderson was as obsequious as always, but she could easily dismiss him
as she perused the enticing curiosities that London’s shops offered. Thomas had
assured her that her dowry was sufficient to make her purchases
inconsequential. She disliked charging things to Alex, but her lawyer’s assurances
had assuaged her conscience. Now she wasn’t at all sure she had done the right
thing, but Alex did not come to chastise her.

On the ship she had wished for the privacy to exchange all
the angry words churning in her breast. Now that they had the privacy, they
seemed to be treating each other with the delicacy of fragile porcelain. It
wasn’t natural to either of their natures. She feared Alex had truly lost
interest in her.

***

Alyson descended upon the household with her tribe the
next evening. The ensuing screams from the nursery brought Evelyn to
investigate. She found her brother on the floor with two wild Indians
threatening to scalp him and all three making enough noise to scare off
banshees. She looked around for some sign of the nursemaid that should be
attending the younger two or the tutor assigned to her brother.

At the increasing racket, Alyson hastened in from her father’s
room, but by then Jacob was in the process of disentangling himself. He glanced
at Lady Alyson with a shamed face and tried to hush the toddlers.

Alex’s black-haired cousin gave the scene a distracted look
and turned absently to Evelyn. “Have I misplaced a maid somewhere?”

Evelyn couldn’t help smiling at her dazed expression. She
lifted the younger toddler. A cherub of barely two, he crowed with delight and
buried his little fists in Evelyn’s loosely looped hair. “Perhaps she eloped
with Jacob’s tutor.”

“One can only hope.”

At the unexpected male intrusion, Evelyn swung around so
quickly the child in her arms squealed with delight.

Alex admired the sight of his wife with a child in her arms,
hair tumbling in dishevelment about her shoulders. He hated to tear his gaze
away, but he could see the other toddler launching a frontal assault. Deftly he
bent and scooped up the plump armful before he could be knocked to the floor by
an exuberant hug about the knees. Alyson’s little demon let out a war cry
suitable for a Highland warrior, nearly deafening him. He laughed and tickled a
bare tummy beneath a shirt hanging from dusty breeches.

“Confess, Jacob, how did you get rid of your wardens?” Alex
lifted his burden to his shoulder.

Jacob relaxed once he realized he wasn’t about to be read a
lecture. “I was done with my lessons, and Millie promised the boys a treat. Mr.
Harrison said I might have one too if I waited here while they went to fetch
it. You’ll probably find them spooning on the back steps. I expect a double
helping of Cook’s tarts for watching the brats.”

“Oh, my, Millie’s really too young. I’ll have to send her
back to her mother.” Alyson drifted out in a flutter of petticoats and ribbons,
leaving Alex and Evelyn holding the deserted culprits.

Alex turned back to his flustered wife. “You see what I mean
about howling brats, don’t you?”

As the one on his shoulder was systematically untying Alex’s
queue and demolishing his jabot without a word said in reprimand, Evelyn
gravely returned his gaze. “Yes, I most certainly do. They shouldn’t be allowed
in public until they’re safely out of Oxford, and not even then until they’re
firmly under the influence of some genteel young woman.”

“Right. They’re heathens without fear of God until then,”
Alex agreed. “Do you think Cook will give us all tarts if Jacob fetches them?”
Well aware that the kitchen was the favorite haunt of starving young lads, Alex
watched the boy’s eyes light with eagerness. Jacob was gone before Evelyn could
object.

Evelyn watched this defection with exasperation. The
toddlers were already squirming for the freedom of the floor and new delights,
and she let her armful down. She skillfully blocked his attempt to follow
Jacob.

Alex laughed and put the Maclean heir on top of a dresser
where he could grab at several toys on a wall shelf. “Now what, wife? Have you
any experience at minding children?”

“I rather thought they were supposed to mind us. I don’t
suppose they will sit and play quietly with a toy apiece?”

Alex brought down a large wooden soldier for the tot on the
floor. The older brother had both fists wrapped around a stick horse. The
younger immediately set up a cry for the elder’s toy.

Alex leaned his shoulders against the wall, crossed his
arms, and waited for Evelyn to resolve the battle. She gave him a scathing
look, grabbed a ball from another shelf, and sat down in front of the crying
lad. The bouncing ball instantly halted his tears.

“Stalling tactics, very effective, my dear. Do you wish to
spend your life that way?”

That blunt question brought color to her cheeks, and she
refused to look at him. The other boy dropped his horse and rushed to join the
game, and both were squealing with glee as a chastened nursemaid hurried in,
saving her from reply.

Jacob and Alyson returned with tarts. Alex took his treat
and made his excuses. “I am keeping Farnley waiting, I fear. As much as I would
enjoy helping you smear jam across your chins, business calls. My regards,
Alyson.” He bowed and stalked out, his back stiff and his stride long.

Alyson rolled her eyes. “He’s all splendid show, you know.
He calls the boys all kinds of terrible names and pretends he detests children,
but the children adore him. Children aren’t fools. They know when they’re
loved. You’ll notice how quickly he appeared when the commotion began. A man
who hated children would have walked out and found the solitude of his club.”

Evelyn turned her attention to the tot in her lap, who had
decided two jam tarts were better than one. “I think I knew that, but it’s nice
to hear one’s opinions confirmed. He denounces all of you, as if pretending he
doesn’t care will save him from hurt, but he does care, far more than he’ll
ever show.”

“So you know that.” Alyson absently wiped at a sticky hand. “I
was wondering if you did.”

Evelyn laughed as the two-year-old went after an escaping
dab of jam with his tongue. Perhaps she wasn’t suited to spending her days in a
nursery as Alex had implied, but she rather enjoyed these few precious moments.
When the jam was caught, she returned her attention to Lady Alyson. “He had me
convinced you were half-mad, but I see now that is a mark of his esteem. He
really does admire you.”

“Moon dreams,” Alyson murmured in the same tone another
would have said,
fustian
. “He thinks
dreams are impractical. He is very much a man of the world. But everyone has
dreams. We cannot live otherwise. That is why he thinks I’m mad. I’m a dreamer.”

“Perhaps, then, so am I.” Evelyn set down her tyke for the
nursemaid to wash and rose from the table. “Do you think your husband would
mind very much if I asked to speak with him and the family solicitor?”

Wiping the hands of her son, Alyson answered without
hesitation, “I will tell him that you have asked. I’m sorry Father isn’t well
enough to help you, but Rory will gladly lend his hand.”

It had taken every ounce of courage Evelyn possessed to make
that request. She hadn’t known she would do it until the words were out.

It was time one of them quit stalling.

Christmas Eve Alex returned home early, only to find
Henderson just stepping into a carriage and pulling away. Alex clenched the
package in his coat pocket as if he could take his wrath out on the object.
Somehow he would have to warn Evelyn away from her lawyer. He had thought
warning Henderson away would be sufficient, but the man seemed particularly
dense. Perhaps he ought to turn the evidence over to the authorities and devil
take the Upton family. Trying to do the honorable thing didn’t seem to be
reaping many rewards.

Unfortunately, he had too many other concerns to bother with
smugglers again. He’d ended their use of his ships and Evelyn’s warehouse. Now
he had the problem of the charges against Evelyn plus the situation in the
colonies, along with the day-to-day concerns of an organization as large as
Cranville Enterprises.