Page 38 of To Honor

Amalia’s cheeks reddened. “Perhaps I may.”

“Perhaps he needs your assistance with Sir Eamon’s mount.”

“You have a lightness about you since Gareth arrived that had been missing for some time. He is good for you.”

Evelina agreed. “Maybe Master Edgar will be good for you,” she teased as Eamon returned. Amalia winked and headed back into the stable.

“You do not have to tell me,” Eamon said, pulling Evelina with him to the side of the stable. “You come for news.”

“I do,” she said. “Of course Father will tell me nothing, and no word has reached us of any campaign. I know you cannot tell me where he is, but I am so worried. And this plan will not work,” she added, the words rushing out. “Father will never agree to it. I know him well. And if he does not—”

“Evie, breathe.”

She did as he bid.

“I’ve not received word either, but do not think the men will be much longer.”

She needed more. “It was a dangerous mission. They say Fitzwilliam is among them. I’ve not known him to leave Castle Blackwood often these past months, which means the men needed his expertise. Coupled with Gareth’s, that could only mean a battle that is very different from your other missions.”

Eamon crossed his arms and peered down at her, eyebrows raised. “And how, precisely, do you know of our other missions?”

“I have ears, Eamon.”

“And use them well, apparently.”

“Not well enough, this time at least.”

“You love him.”

Evelina nodded. “Aye. Very much. You chose Gareth for his skill, and honor too. There is much to love.”

Eamon sighed. “Your father will not agree to it, even when Gareth returns a hero.”

When. Not if. Oddly, as if Eamon could somehow predict the outcome of the battle that he did not deny was happening, his choice of words made her feel more assured.

“What shall we do?”

“If your father knew I was complicit in this—”

“He will not, Eamon. Surely you trust me?”

“I do, and care for you like a daughter, as you know. Evie, I’ve something to tell you. And should have done so many years ago.”

Evelina did not care for his expression. It was as if Eamon were prepared for her to be angry with him, something she’d never done.

“Eamon?” she asked, her heart racing.

“Ashford Manor had been in your father’s family for years, but rarely did his parents come here. After they were married, when your mother first visited, she fell in love with the manor. With the village. It was she who wished to take up primary residence here.”

Her mother. No one, Eamon included, spoke of her. “You knew my mother?” she whispered. How was it possible she did not know that?

“I did. Very well.”

Though it took her a moment, his words penetrated. She looked into his eyes, ones as loving and compassionate as any she’d ever known. And promptly burst into tears.

Eamon pulled her even farther behind the stables, where they would not be seen or overheard. And then took her in his arms as Evelina cried into his chest. How could she possibly have gone so many years without realizing it?

“You are my father,” she said. Though it was more like an accusation than a question.