With a grunt, he made it onto the small balcony and climbed through her window.
“Good heavens, hurry before someone sees you.” She all but grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him farther into her room. The sight of her filled him with an intense rush of pleasure. At nineteen, Lady Evie was even more ravishing than when he’d first met her. She had become a well sought after social butterfly, stunningly beautiful with her golden hair, elegant yet voluptuous figure, and intelligent without making it too obvious to the rest of the ton. She had even been featured in the Gazette several times, the society pages admiring her ball gowns and fashionable hairstyles.
They had discussed everything from politics to the weather, and he genuinely admired her mind. She was clever, amusing, and a lady of thoughtful manners. She reigned at musicales and dinner parties, enthralling the attendees with her exquisite singing and skill at the pianoforte. Evie was a darling of the ton who had managed to keep herself with a single-minded determination from becoming engaged, a perplexing and frustrating situation for her parents.
“You could have announced yourself,” she gently admonished.
“I had no desire to join the crush or to field their unending questions. I…needed to see you.”
Her eyes kissed over his face, searching his expression. “You look quite a fright. What has happened?”
He stood muted, letting his despair wash over him.
Compassion softened her features. “We cannot stay here, I’ve already rung for my maid to assist me in preparing for bed. She’ll be here shortly. Perhaps it’s best we sneak down to the library. It will surely be unoccupied.”
She hurried to her door and gently eased it open. After a quick check to ensure the corridor was empty, she rushed out, and he had no choice but to follow. Evie dashed down the hallway and then the winding stairs. She glanced back at him, her eyes glowing with humor. “I feel quite naughty. How Mamma would swoon in horror to know you had been in my chamber.”
Evie did not wait for a response, only ran ahead, gliding down the stairs like a graceful gazelle. They made it to the library without any incident. She faced him as they entered, her eyes warm and concerned. “Is it about Francis?”
For once, the name of his brother did not fill him with a gut-wrenching pain. The idea of a daughter seemed to have overshadowed everything. An unnamed emotion closed his throat. “It is not that.”
“What troubles you?”
“I have a child.”
Evie jerked as if he had slapped her, and her eyes widened. In the depths of her gaze he spied hurt, and it confounded him. They had developed a friendship that he trusted and relied on, despite her tender age. A friendship that even transcended the camaraderie he had with her brother. Evie was the light, the kindness, the innocence, the balance to his jadedness. She moved to sit by the chaise close to the windows, never taking her regard from him.
“Are you to be married then?”
He scoffed. “You know I have no interest in marriage.”
Her lips parted and her brow furrowed in confusion. “But if you are going to have a—”
“She is already here, and by my accounts, she is at least four years of age,” he said gruffly.
“I cannot credit it! How is it possible?”
As if he could explain he had been about to bed the countess. Instinctively, he knew it would hurt her, and he had taken care over the years to never make Evie aware of his liaisons. He’d been reluctant to examine his reasons for this, lest he crossed a line he was never able to return from.
“Her mother, who is already married, revealed the knowledge of my daughter to me just now.” Without delay, he relayed all he had discovered to Evie.
“Whatever shall you do?”
He started to pace. “I do not know, but I must do something. I have a daughter in the world, and she is alone and unaware of her family.”
“Will…will you place her in an orphanage?”
Her words kicked him in the chest. That was what most, if not all, lords who found they had bastards did. They deposited their ill-gotten seed on well-run orphanages with sizable contributions. The fact that Evie expected him to follow suit left a hollow ache in his gut. For the first time since their meeting, he saw her through eyes coated with cynical mistrust.
“Is that the advice you would bestow on me, Lady Evelyn?”
She slowly stood and moved closer to him. “I only ask you not to do anything you would regret, Richard. Your father is dreadfully ill, and he cares a lot about your family reputation and standing in the ton. Society will not forgive you claiming an illegitimate daughter.”
“You are hardly a woman of the world to be certain of what you speak,” he said with derision.
She flushed. “I only want you to be careful. You are the Marquess of Westfall and the heir to a dukedom. Your parents and society will expect—”
“Say no more. I fully understand what is expected, not that I will thank you for reminding me.”