‘Evie, you mustn’t meddle in this.’ It was the same weak prohibition that he tried whenever she stepped out of bounds.
Since she knew there were no consequences to disagreeing, it would meet with the same lack of success. She continued. ‘You were a good friend of the old duke when he was alive, were you not?’
‘Of course, but …’
‘And mightn’t he have asked you a favour, at one point in your life, when you and mother feared that you would be childless?’ In case she had been too direct, she larded the question with more feminine sweetness. ‘I only ask because I know there will be gossip.’
‘There will be none if Hastings leaves, as he is promised to,’ her father said stubbornly. He had not affirmed or denied her theory. But evasiveness was an answer.
‘It is hardly fair to Sam, if you make him leave London just because of the duke.’ Nor was it fair to her. She would not lose him again, over something that should not matter to anyone. ‘If the estrangement between you is nothing more than a fear of making this revelation, you had best get it over with. Since I love both men, I mean to keep them close to me for as long as I am able.’ She smiled again and offered a bait that she doubted her father could resist. ‘I am sure that St Aldric would welcome the news. He has spoken frequently of the burden of being the only remaining member of his family. You would gain much favour by telling him what he longs to hear.’
‘Revelation of a natural son …’ her father stopped himself before revealing the truth ‘… if there were such, would do nothing to change his status as the last of the line.’
‘It would change the contents of his heart,’ Eve argued. ‘I know his spirit; it is generous to a fault. He would want to share his wealth with his father’s son. And it would at least make him cease his jokes about duels between them. Imagine his reaction, should they fight for some reason, and not learn the truth until after one of them had been injured.’
‘For some reason?’ She had pushed too far. Her father had spotted the hole in her argument and made his escape. ‘Really, Evelyn. Do not play the naïf. You know perfectly well that they would be fighting over your attentions. If an accident occurs, it will be your fault and not mine. You must send Hastings away. I have assured myself that the man is too sensible to harbour false hope on a match between you. And neither should you.’
‘I am not offering false hope.’ There was nothing false about it. After the time spent in the garden, the hope she felt was quite real. As was her conviction about the identity of Sam’s father. ‘I am simply attempting to right a wrong, before it goes further. It pains both men and does no credit to you.’
‘You are meddling in things you cannot understand,’ he said, patting her on the hand and treating her like the child he still believed she was. ‘If this is the reason you were impolite to St Aldric, then I am sorry to disappoint you. I have nothing to say on the matter, because there is nothing to say.’
Had she failed to persuade him? This happened so rarely that, for a moment, she suspected she might have been wrong. Perhaps there was no secret to reveal. ‘Father …’
‘Go!’ He pointed a finger back towards the garden, once again secure in his control of the situation. ‘Send Dr Hastings on his way before the duke tires of his company. Visit with St Aldric, as he desires. I have no intention of helping you out of the muddle you are making. This discussion is at an end and will not be repeated. Now, go.’ Her father’s lips were set in a firm line, as if to show her that no more words would pass between them until she had fulfilled her obligation to him, to society and to the duke.
But he was giving no thought to Sam’s needs. If he would not, then someone must, or he would be back on a boat and out of her life for ever. ‘Very well, then. I will talk to St Aldric. But you are wrong about the rest, Father. We will speak of this again and, next time, you will tell the truth.’ She would worry him with it night and day, if necessary. But she would have her way, and Sam would know his brother.
In Evelyn’s absence, an awkward silence had fallen between the two men. It was hardly surprising. Sam seldom had cause to speak to a man of such great rank and no right to initiate conversation. The duke had no reason to speak to him. It left the pair of them staring morosely at the kitten on the bench until the thing stumbled to the edge and off, wandering into the grass to stalk and pounce on crickets.
Now there was not even an excuse for the silence. It seemed that St Aldric was not content with this, for he was searching about him as though expecting to see an opening to a conversation. At last he offered, ‘Evelyn says you were educated in Scotland, and after you took to the sea.’
‘Indeed, your Grace.’ Sam shifted uneasily, clasping his hands behind his back.
‘The navy is an unusual choice for such a well-educated man. But I cannot fault your adventurous spirit.’
Sam was tempted to announce that he had not requested an opinion, but he had only one reason to dislike this man and no reason at all to be rude to him. Excessive fondness for Evie was no excuse for a lack of respect to the peerage. ‘The navy is an economical way to see the world,’ Sam admitted. ‘The prize money from ships taken was sufficient to make up for the lack of a medical practice.’ It would be nothing to the holdings of a duke, but it had been more than satisfactory for Sam.
The duke nodded approval. ‘The captain of the Matilda was ambitious.’
It was the truth, but St Aldric had stated it as though he already knew. Had he made an effort to discover this, or had Evie revealed it to him? ‘A very ambitious captain indeed, your Grace.’ He’d made enough to retire and return to land, and to have a house and family, should he wish for one.
‘Your record is admirable,’ the duke continued. ‘Other than a brief flirtation with the church of Rome, while you were in Spain.’
So he had read the record, then. And the warning put there by the captain, for the time he had spent conversing with priests. ‘It was curiosity. Nothing more.’ And a desire to find a cure for his spiritual affliction, or at least absolution, from a clergy that was bound to secrecy. In the end, the priest had looked at him with pity and disgust, and given him beads and prayer, almost as Sam might have prescribed a pill.
It had done no good.
‘It is strange that you have taken such an interest in my interest.’ Sam allowed himself the candid observation. The meddling in his affairs by this stranger annoyed him. ‘I do not mean to bother Evelyn with it, if that is what you fear.’
‘Not at all, sir,’ the duke said hastily. ‘I merely wished to take your measure.’
‘Then consider it done. I am what you see before you. No more, no less. In the future, if you have a question, you might ask me directly and I will answer it honestly and to the best of my ability. For Evelyn’s sake, if for no other reason.’ Did invoking her name make the words sound any less rude?
‘I see,’ the duke said.
‘I wonder if you do?’ Sam said, too tired of the games they were playing to dissemble. ‘I might as well have sworn to you on all that is holy. Such an oath would have had no more strength than my wish for Eve’s continued well-being. No matter what you might suspect, I want what is best for her.’ And then he admitted grudgingly, ‘If what I am hearing is true, she is on the verge of a fortunate match.’
Rather than answer this, the duke merely shrugged. It was a strange, rather boyish response from one so confident. ‘I have hopes. But it is up to the lady, is it not?’
‘I wish her well,’ Sam added. ‘She deserves the