Page 79 of The Odyssean Duke

“I have not needed one for years,” Stephan said. “Why can’t I just continue as I have been?”

“I suppose you can.” Murrayton’s face fell. “There is nothing preventing you from abandoning everything and returning to the sea, nothing except your pride and your wife.”

“I cannot leave her,” Stephan said mournfully. “But I cannot be with her either. I never should have encouraged her to love me.”

“Why ever not?” Murrayton asked. “You are allowed to be happy, my friend. You know that, don’t you?”

Stephan grimaced. “Ten years ago, I resolved that I would never fall in love or be the conventional man.”

“Ten years is a long time,” Murrayton said. “People change.”

Murrayton said that as if it was the easiest thing in the world to accept, as if Stephan should have no difficulty in abandoning a ten-year promise and understanding of himself.

Stephan leaned back in his chair, thinking of Evelina, who had changed the rules of their arrangement. Evelina, who made his heart beat more quickly. Evelina, who was lively and beautiful and charming.

“Thank you for talking with me,” Stephan said. “I need—I need time to think.”

“Most men would,” Murrayton said gently, “but I would urge you not to take too much time. Evelina deserves an answer from you.”

“I know.”

“And you deserve to be happy. Do not let your pride keep you from a happy future with a beautiful and doting wife,” Murrayton said, his eyes wide with sincerity. “If anyone deserves to enjoy a long and fruitful marriage, it is you.”

* * *

When Stephan returned to his house, warmed by watered-down ale and Murrayton’s good company, the hour was late. He took a deep breath, gazing at his house with such intensity that a passerby might assume that he had never seen it before. Stephan swallowed hard, his pulse leaping at the thought of entering that house and seeing Evelina. Would she be bereft at his absence and relieved at his appearance? Or would she be angry?

Stephan smiled to himself, imagining that it would be the latter. He envisioned Evelina like a Fury, her face flushed and eyes bright, standing at the threshold and demanding recompense for his leaving. Stephan tarried only a moment longer. Then, he made the slow walk to the door and opened it, letting moonlight sweep into the otherwise darkened entryway. He inhaled softly.

Evelina was not there; ofcourse, she was not. The hour was late. She and the servants would all be abed. His throat was dry, as Stephan thought of Evelina buried beneath the bedlinens, her face softened in sleep. He was truly wretched for leaving her that morning when she was pliant and gentle from sleep.

For a heartbeat, his courage threatened to abandon him. Stephan steeled himself and entered the house, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise silent space. His heart hammered against his ribs as he ascended the stairs, going toward Evelina’s room. He did not even know what he would say to her, but the urge simply toseeher rose inside him so violently that it stole the breath from his very lungs. When he reached her room, Stephan exhaled loudly and carefully nudged open the door.

He entered, feeling like an intruder in his own house. Stephan decided that he would not wake his wife; he wished only to ensure that she was sleeping soundly in his own house, unbothered by his rejection earlier that morning.

Soon, he was by Evelina’s bed. His heart lodged in his throat as he gazed at the mattress and the bed linens. Empty.

Evelina was gone.

Stephan lowered himself onto her bed, his heart rising and his breath caught in his chest. Evelina had left; of course, she had. Why would she stay when he had made her feel unwanted and unappreciated? His chest was tight. Evelina had told him thatshe had spent a good portion of her life convinced that she was unlovable and unwanted, and he had abandoned her.

Stephan had proven himself to be just like every other man in her life. He had abandoned her, and Stephan did not know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for that.

CHAPTER 34

Evelina pressed her cheek against the arm of the sofa, uncaring if she was strewn about the cushions in a ladylike fashion. She had experienced a trying day, a trying night, and a trying morning. It had taken an inordinate amount of strength simply to leave the bed and dress. After leaving for Theodora’s house the day before, Evelina had discovered that her sister was away for a few days.

Staying alone in Theodora’s house seemed worse than waiting for Stephan to return home, so Evelina had decided to try calling on her mother, the one woman in her life who had not found a happy ending and who might understand the pain Evelina held in her heart. Evelina had arrived late in the evening, cried, and retired early.

Now, it was midday, and she found herself unable to muster the strength even to sit upright on the sofa. She languished on the cushions, her blood roaring in her ears. Stephan had rejected her; he did not love her. Worse, she should have anticipated that he would cast her aside. Evelina knew the arrangement theyhad made, and she had chosen to break it. Her despair at being rejected by yet another husband was her own doing.

“Evelina.” Her mother’s voice was gentle. “I am so sorry, dearest.”

“So am I.” Evelina’s throat was thick and sore, making it difficult to speak. “I should have never loved him, much less told him.”

“You did nothing wrong,” her mother replied. “There is nothing—there is no reason why you should blame yourself for falling in love.”

“But it is my fault,” Evelina whispered. “All of it. If I had said nothing about my affections for him, I would not have made my marriage uncomfortable. I would have spent the night with my husband. We might have produced an heir, or enjoyed the night together. Now, I have ruined everything. How can I even face him after I so clearly refused to honor the agreement that we made together?”