Page 57 of The Odyssean Duke

Stephan watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. Evelina was kind in her interactions with the staff, which was refreshing. His grandmother had always been something of a tyrant with them, and she was his only real reference for how a woman might manage a household.

The cook departed, and Evelina pulled the tray into her lap. She took a spoonful of soup and swallowed it, closing her eyes. “Oh, it is excellent,” Evelina murmured.

“I am glad.”

Stephan leaned forward and let his forearms rest across his legs. He watched in silence as Evelina ate her soup. After a moment, he lit a candle and brought it to her bedside. With the light, she looked even worse. His suspicions were confirmed; her face was flushed.

He raised a hand to her forehead, and she started a little. Evelina’s skin was hot and clammy with sweat. “You might befeverish,” he said, furrowing his brow. “I should send for a physician.”

“Not tonight,” she said, placing the tray aside.

Stephan glanced at the bowl, relieved to see that she had eaten most of the soup. She was clearly unwell, but if she was willing to eat, Evelina could not bethatterribly ill.

“If you are still ill in the morning, I want to send for a physician,” Stephan replied. “That is my final offer.”

Evelina laughed, the sound a ragged and sharp thing. She rolled onto her side and watched him through hazy eyes. “Fine,” she said.

Stephan stifled a yawn and rolled back his shoulders. He had a wild thought of sinking into bed beside Evelina; her bedlinens looked like utter bliss, and a terrible fatigue was seeping into him. It had been a long day of work and a long night spent drinking with Murrayton. If he left, Evelina would believe he was upset or disappointed. She would think that he had only come to her wanting a congress and that he was leaving because he had not gotten one.

Stephan should not care what she thought; this was a marriage of convenience and nothing more. If that was so, why did he feel the need to keep reminding himself of that, though? Stephan could make no sense of his hesitation or of his earnest desire to ensure that Evelinadidthink well of him.

“How was your day?” he asked.

Evelina frowned, considering the question. “It was fine,” she said at last. “I had the dubious honor of encountering the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

Ice sank into Stephan’s veins, and he sat upright in his chair. “She came here?” he asked.

Evelina nodded. “It was nothing. I think she only wanted to unnerve me. Or maybe she hoped that I would be afraid of her and agree to be her ally. It is difficult to say.”

Stephan’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding together. “I see.”

He listened as Evelina recounted her unexpected meeting with the Dowager Duchess of Rothbury. Once she was finished, Stephan smiled despite himself. “I am certain you upset her by saying that you will have your own house and allowance,” he said. “She does not like to be undermined. I wish I had been around to see the look on her face when you said that to her!”

Evelina shrugged, as though it was of little consequence. “If she is going to besmirch my name, she ought to at least know who she is dealing with.”

“Yes.” Stephan paused, thinking. “I shall speak with her, though. This house is no longer hers, and she is not welcome here.”

Stephan doubted that his grandmother would listen to him, which nipped vexingly at his pride. He ought to force her to the countryside or some far-flung place. Once he had an heir and the dukedom, he would do just that. Stephan liked to think that he was—if notgood—a decent man. He respected women and was aware that, in many respects, the world was crueler to them than it was to a man. His grandmother would only seek to undermine him, though.

She was too dangerous to remain in London, especially if she intended to pay Evelina these spiteful little visits.

“You look as though you are going to fight her,” Evelina said.

“In a manner of speaking.”

Evelina pressed her lips together, her fever-bright eyes darting over his face. “Is it difficult, being in London?”

Stephan curled his fingers around the arms of his chair. Sometimes, he would sit or stand and imagine that he still felt the rocking of a ship. He found his eyes sweeping over every man who passed him in the street, searching for signs of danger.

“It is different,” he said.

That was the simplest answer and the safest one. It was the one that did not unlock anything undesirable or awful. At times, the war had been intolerable, but Stephan missed the fighting and the sea and testing himself far more than he had ever missed anything in his life.

“Tell me about it,” she said. “What was it like?”