He nodded jerkily. It had been a few months into Elaine’s first Season. He’d broached the matter, speaking lightly, as if it were a joke. Diana had brushed him off, and he’d never said another word.
“That’s when I suspected. And I knew that if you stopped teasing her—if she came to know you—of course she would fall in love with you. How could she help herself? And when she did, your loyalties to her would soon outweigh your friendship with me. Evan, she hates me. How could she not?”
She forgave me. But he couldn’t grant Elaine’s forgiveness to Diana. And when Elaine had pulled from him this morning, he’d been left wondering whether he truly had received her trust.
“You could try being kind for a change,” he said mildly.
Diana gave him a sad smile. “After all that I’ve said? If I retract the claws, all of London society will devour me. It is either kill or be killed. If you’re not the wolf, you’re the rabbit.”
“There are no wolves. There are no rabbits. We’re all just human. I think you will find that if you treat people decently, they will respond.”
“If I were starting anew? Perhaps. But I can’t escape myself, Evan.”
He knew what that felt like. He could remember it all too well—the sick feeling in his stomach, the certainty that no matter what he wanted, he was forced to continue on. If he stopped being an ass, people would laugh at him. If he changed, they would turn on him. He’d run away, but she’d not had that option.
Diana’s eyes glistened. “I can’t stand myself,” she said, choking. “If people did not fear me so, how could anyone tolerate me?”
He knew that feeling, too. But that kind of regard was as false as a thin crust of snow, hiding a bottomless crevasse.
“It’s quite simple,” Evan said. “You’ll have to choose between accepting yourself and having others accept you.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “Oh.”
Once, long ago, they’d vowed never to let each other be hurt. What they’d done with that pledge had been ugly. But the promise itself…
“There is one thing you should know.”
“No need to even speak it. If I hurt your Elaine, you’ll have nothing further to do with me.”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say.”
She raised her head, and for the first time, she met his eyes. She looked weary and ragged.
“You were my first true friend,” he said. “I have always known that you would never purposefully wish me harm. You’re the sister I never had, and if you think I will turn my back on you, you gravely mistake me. Friends do not let go of other friends. Even if matters become difficult. Even if the road becomes rocky. Even if it seems as if there is no other choice.”
She sniffled. “And what if you marry a woman who must certainly be my mortal enemy?”
“Even then.” He stood and pillows scattered about him. “But I think you’ll find that most people can be remarkably forgiving.”
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and sad. “Even you?”
He crossed to her and knelt beside her. “Especially me,” he said. And when she leaned against him, he hugged her, hard.
Chapter Eleven
Until Elaine walked into the ballroom that night, she had not realized how much of herself she had locked away. She had always stood on the side of such rooms, dressed in colors that drew no attention.
Tonight, for the very first time, she wore a ball gown of red satin. It hugged her waist and then flared out over a multitude of petticoats. The neckline skimmed the top of her corset, flirtatious without quite crossing over into the realm of provocation. The cut was simple—so simple, it had been fitted together in a matter of hours. The hem was still pinned in place, rather than sewn.
It was simple, and yet when she’d looked at herself in the mirror beforehand, she’d been unable to look away. This was who she could be. For years, she’d had one purpose at gatherings like this: to make everyone look away from her.
Tonight she wanted them to look at her. She stood on the edge of the polished wood floor, feeling like a ship clinging to the shore. Out there, amongst the crowd, there were waves and storms and monsters. Here at the edges there was safety. Her first step toward the middle of the room was the hardest. The second came more easily. With the third, people had begun to look at her and whisper behind upraised fans.
Lady Elaine Warren didn’t wear red. She didn’t walk into the center of the room. She hid away everything about herself.
Not any longer. For once, those whispers did not make her falter. They made her lift her chin and take longer strides. The fourth step was the easiest yet, and on the fifth…
On the fifth, she saw Evan. He was standing against a wall, dressed in dark brown. His golden, curling hair was tamed, but when he turned toward her, something just a little wild entered his expression. His gaze dropped, and perhaps—she could not keep herself from grinning—so did his jaw. Just a little. By the time his eyes met hers, his smile matched hers, broad and unstoppable. He started toward her.
She could not run. Not with these slippers on her feet. If she ran, the flowers would fall from her hair, and the straight-pins holding her hem in place would come undone. But her steps grew faster. She made no effort to hide her destination. They met in the center of the crowd. He reached his hands out to her, and she took them. He pulled her close—and then, with everyone watching, he kissed her. Hard.
There might have been tongue involved. Eventually, he pulled away from her.
“Evan,” she said, “I’m so sorry—this morning, I—”
He set his fingers across her lips. “What did I tell you?”
“You said when danger threatened, you were looking for someone who would hold to you and not let go. And I—”
He glanced wryly down, where his hand still held hers. “You’re letting go, are you?”
“No, but this morning, I—”
“Elaine,” he repeated, “are you letting go?”
“No,” she whispered. “No. I love you.”
His smile broadened and he leaned down to her. “Over the years, everyone stumbles. That’s why I’ll be here for you—and you’ll be there for me. I don’t expect perfection. I want you, and you’re a thousand times better.”
Her heart was pounding. She was looking up into his eyes. The room was quiet with an expectant hush—
Wait, the room was quiet? For the first time since his hands had joined with hers, she glanced around her. The crowd around them had indeed gone silent—and had drawn in quite close. Everyone was looking at them. Everyone.
And why wouldn’t they?
Evan’s smile simply broadened. “I love you,” he said, just loud enough to send a murmur rippling through the awaiting crowd. And then he tucked her hand behind his elbow and gestured to the crowd. “Clear the way,” he said, his voice commanding. “If I don’t find Lord Stockhurst and ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage in the next five minutes, we’ll have a scandal on our hands. And none of you want that.”
Evan wasn’t the only one smiling, now. All around them, people were grinning. And then, one by one, the members of the crowd began to clap.
Across the ballroom, Diana held her head high, willing herself not to tear up.
No matter what Evan said, she didn’t believe that they could remain friends—not if she continued on as before. Strange; she’d never felt nervous before in a crowd. But right now, she could sense her own vulnerability. For the first time, she was the rabbit. And lo, here were these many wolves.
She caught sight of Miss Maria Wollton along the side of the room. Miss Wollton had pots of money, but it had all come from trade. When she spoke, she displayed a well-informed, intelligent mind. And so last month, Diana had called her a presumptuous little bluestocking. The appellation had stuck. It had been so easy to push the girl to a corner of the room.
Diana crossed the room to her and dipped a little curtsey. “Miss Wollton.”
“Lady
Cosgrove,” the younger woman returned warily.
“That…” Why should this be so hard? “That shade of peach is quite lovely on you,” Diana said, all in a rush. “It truly brings out the blue in your eyes.”
Miss Wollton frowned in confusion. To her left, Diana could see the crowd gathering about Evan and Elaine, offering their congratulations. Soon, she would join in. She would have a great many things she would need to say to the two of them.
But for now… Diana drew a deep breath and did the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.
“Miss Wollton,” she said, “I owe you an apology.”
Epilogue
Two months later.
The champagne had been poured in generous toasts. A dizzying multitude of friends and family had gathered around and offered the young couple congratulations. Elaine’s mother had scarcely been able to contain her happiness throughout the wedding breakfast, and so Elaine had barely managed to escape her parents’ home. A carriage decked with every spring flower had taken her away—all the way to Evan’s house, all of two streets’ distance.
Despite the beat of nervousness in her belly, she’d been introduced to his staff and he’d taken her on a leisurely tour of his home—their home now, to fill with an entire life together. He’d shown her to her chambers.
“The bed,” he said, quite seriously, “is the finest that money can buy. I had it made new for you, you know. I hope you…sleep comfortably.” A wicked smile danced on his face, and he glanced out the window at the afternoon sky.
Evening was still a depressing number of hours away.
Perhaps marriage did make you of one mind, because when she sighed, he winked at her.
“I was thinking that after our arduous day, we might consider retiring early.”
“What an excellent idea,” she returned, doing her best to keep her face straight and serious.
He stepped outside and gave the orders. The majority of the servants disappeared as silently as they’d come, heading to their own revels below.
Mary scarcely had time to divest Elaine of her formal white gown and replace it with an inappropriately virginal wrapper before a tap sounded at her door.
“His Lordship is eager,” Mary said.
“Mmm,” Elaine replied.
“And how could he be? After all, just last night, you were—”
“Mary, don’t you think you’ll need to pack? You have three weeks’ leave coming to you during our honeymoon. I should want to get started, were I you.”
Mary smiled and withdrew.
His Lordship wasn’t the only eager one.
But when he entered, he did not fall on her and ravish her immediately. Alas. He stood in the doorway, the light of afternoon painting his gold hair in hues of orange. He’d shed his formal coat and waistcoat; the tails of his shirt were untucked.
“Well, Lady Westfeld,” he said finally. “Are your accommodations to your liking?”
“Why so formal?”
He took a step toward her. “Formal? I’m just savoring the sound of your name.” Another step. “Lady Westfeld.” Another step, and he slid a finger under her chin. “Lady Westfeld of mine,” he whispered.
“You’ll just have to be my Evan,” she said in response.
“With pleasure.”
And then, step by step, he drew her into the center of the room for a kiss—and another one—and another one after that. She took hold of his arms, and she didn’t let go.
Also by Courtney Milan
The Turner Series
Unveiled
Unlocked (a novella)
Unclaimed (October 2011)
Unraveled (late 2011)
The Carhart Series
“This Wicked Gift” in The Heart of Christmas (a novella)
Proof by Seduction
Trial by Desire
Courtney also maintains free short reads on her website at: http://www.courtneymilan.com/extras.php
About the Author
Courtney Milan’s debut novel was published in 2010 to instant critical acclaim. Her books have received starred reviews from Publishers Weekly and Booklist. Her second book was a Publishers Weekly Best Book of 2010. She has been a RITA® finalist and an RT Reviewer’s Choice nominee for Best First Historical Romance.
Courtney lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, a medium-sized dog, and an attack cat. Before she started writing historical romance, she experimented with various occupations: computer programming, dog-training, scientificating… Having given up on being able to do any of those things, she’s taken to heart the axiom that those who can’t do, teach. When she’s not reading (lots), writing (lots), or sleeping (not enough), she can be found in the vicinity of a classroom.
Find out more about her by visiting her website at http://www.courtneymilan.com, following her on twitter at http://twitter.com/courtneymilan, or liking her Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/courtneymilanauthor.
Acknowledgments
Tessa Dare, Carey Baldwin, and Leigh Dennis heard about this novella from its inception and encouraged me to write it. Tessa listened to me whine on chat and threatened me with fairy wings. Carey, Leigh, Amanda Collins, and Elyssa Papa read early versions and provided feedback. Tessa, Kelly Gay, Susan Gee Heino, and Kris Kennedy read later versions and helped prevent complete meltdowns. Franzeca Drouin’s painstaking editing then saved me from myself.
Kristin Nelson, my agent, was helpful, brilliant, and supportive—which is not even slightly surprising to anyone who knows her. The agency staff—Anita Mumm and Lindsey Mergens—all helped me gather the information I needed to decide where to head with this.
Martha Trachtenberg was a godsend of a copy editor. My proofers caught a bunch of embarrassing mistakes: thank you to Lynn Funk, Anne Victory, Lisa Rusczyk Hazard, and Nicholas Ambrose. Nicholas served double-duty as an all-round Brit-picker—so double thanks. I also owe a debt of gratitude to Guido Henkel and Nadia Lee for their meticulous formatting guides, which helped me produce a professional quality e-book.
And then there are the people that keep me sane—the Vanettes, the Peeners, the Pixies, and the Authors for Authors and Destination Debut loops—who helped write back cover copy and vet covers.
Finally, I know it’s the fad to dis traditional publishers, but I’ve never been one of the cool kids. I want to thank HQN Books and Margo Lipschultz, for all that they have done for me. I learned a great deal about how to produce a professional product by working with the entire team there. I would not be where I am today without them.
Courtney Milan, Unlocked
(Series: Turner # 1.50)
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