‘Of course he is,’ she said. ‘Unless you would have me believe that he was hatched from an egg, or some other such fantasy. He came into the world in the usual way, from a union between man and woman.’
‘Evelyn! Do not speak of such things. They are unseemly topics for a young lady.’
‘I would not have to, if you would be forthcoming with what you know.’ She was giving him a full-on pout now, she was sure. She would follow it with tears, if she had to. It was the height of foolishness. But if topics were continually being put off limits to her because of her gender, a reasonable argument would not be possible. And she must have her way.
‘Are you going on about that again?’ her father said with a sigh. ‘Really, Evelyn, you must realize that this is no business of yours.’
‘It is my business,’ she said and allowed her lip to tremble. Then she pinched the needle prick on her finger, which gave a fresh throb of pain and made her eyes water. ‘Because I love and care about …’ she paused to gulp back a sob ‘… both of the men involved.’ Let her father think it was not just Sam that she sought to help. She gave him a hopeful smile through the tears. ‘St Aldric would be most grateful, I am sure. He has told me often, in candid moments, how sad it is to know that nothing else of his father has survived. He would welcome any family that he might find.’
‘It is not up to me to make such decisions,’ her father said a little less confidently. ‘I promised, when the boy was merely a baby …’
There. The tears were doing the tick. He was almost ready to admit the truth. ‘Any oaths spoken to the old duke can no longer be binding now that both he and his duchess are dead. It is only Michael now. And he is so very alone. If his father had known that telling him would be a mercy, I’m sure he would relieve you from your oath.’
This approach, which did not seem so focused on Sam’s happiness, was having its effect. She could see her father’s resolve fighting with his desire to impress the duke. ‘There are other things that would make St Aldric happy, you know. He will not be alone with a wife and children.’
‘He will have those,’ she said dismissively.
‘When?’ her father said, bringing the conversation to a halt. ‘You know what he wants, Evie. And what I expect from you. He has waited for months, yet you will not give him an answer.’
‘I will, soon,’ she said. But perhaps she would not have to. Sam clearly thought himself unworthy. If it was because he lacked money or status, surely it was better to be half-brother to a duke then a barely acknowledged ward.
‘Soon, you say? Then I will tell the duke about his brother, at that time.’
‘So! You admit the truth, then?’ It was hardly a victory if he admitted it to her, but would not tell Sam.
‘Yes,’ her father said, with another sigh. ‘I fulfilled my part of the bargain by seeing to it that the child was educated and launched in a profession. And by keeping my mouth closed, until you came to me, to pry it open.’
‘I knew it. I had but to look at them together to be sure.’ For a moment, her own triumph overcame all else.
‘And now, I suppose, you think you can blurt the story to them at the first opportunity,’ her father said, with a disapproving shake of his head.
‘I will, if you will not,’ she said, stamping her foot like a child.
‘And you will hurt them both. If they must be told, as you think they must, it should be done quietly, privately, and by me. It will be shock to both men, even if it is a favourable one. I have documents to show that this is no idle claim and there can be no doubt in the minds of the parties involved.’
He was right. Random assertions by her would mean nothing. She must allow her father to do it in his own time. ‘As long as it is done soon,’ she said.
‘I will do it when you agree to end this nonsense of indecision.’ He was looking at her directly, obviously unmoved by her histrionics. ‘I have been far too lax with you, Evelyn, and have only myself to blame for this. You are behaving like a spoiled and wilful girl. In all other things I might demur. But in this, I will remain adamant. You are my only child and all that remains of my beloved Sarah. You are my heart and my life. I cannot sleep easy until you are settled. And for you, nothing less than a duke will do.’
So this was the impasse. She had known there would be a day when all the girlish wheedling she could manage would not be enough. And it had finally come. Father would release the truth, if she surrendered her hopes.
She weighed the situation as rationally as she was able. Both St Aldric and Sam would know their connection. They deserved it. On their last meeting, Sam had made it quite clear that she could wait for ever and never have him. He expected her to marry the duke.
But he had also kissed her, which negated his other behaviour.
She would accept the duke, as her father wished. Betrothed was quite a different thing from married. Many things might happen before they got to the altar.
Then she would write to Sam, tell him of her intentions, and give him one last chance to stop the engagement. If he did nothing, she would go forwards, just as Father wished her to. There were many things right with having Michael as a husband, but only one thing wrong. The fact that she did not love him was hardly an obstacle. She would love only one man in her life. If she could not have him, better to choose someone that she liked.
But everything must be accomplished soon, before Sam took it into his head to leave London for Scotland or the sea. She took a breath, held it for a moment and committed to a plan.
‘If you promise that you will tell them both, I will accept St Aldric the very next time he suggests it, which is likely to be tomorrow evening.’ Now that she had agreed, it was simply a matter of scheduling and giving Sam a strict timetable in which to change his mind. She glanced at the calendar on the writing desk. ‘We shall have an engagement ball next week. The banns will be read starting next Sunday. The ceremony shall follow shortly thereafter. The whole business shall be settled by next month, if that is to your liking. As long as you swear to tell them.’
Her father was looking at her in amazement, as though trying to decide whether to upbraid her for setting standards or show the happiness he felt at getting his way.
‘It is all I want for a wedding present from you,’ she coaxed. ‘And I doubt I would keep the secret for long, now that I have wormed it out of you. I am but a woman, you know.’
He smiled in response to her joke, though she was not being the least bit funny. ‘You are probably right. You are a fickle creature, my dear, and I cannot expect you to keep mum. Accept the duke and set a date for the engagement ball. Invite Hastings to it and we shall settle it all on the same night.’
‘I do not wish to alarm you, Lady Evelyn, but there is an enormous spider crawling on your shoulder.’
Without thinking, Eve reached to brush it off, realised that she felt no such thing and stopped to stare impolitely at her dance partner.
St Aldric smiled affectionately back at her. ‘I have managed to gain your attention at last, have I? A point for me, then. And minus one for you. When faced with such a horror, a young lady is expected to shriek and throw herself into the arms of the nearest gentleman. She is not supposed to settle the matter for herself.’
‘I … am sorry.’ She tried to remember where they were in the pattern of the dance, so that they could continue without a misstep. She had managed to march through it so far without thinking. But clearly the duke had noticed that he did not have her full attention.
‘Is