Page 80 of The Heiress Gets a Duke
He wanted to shake the answer out of her but managed to calmly put his hands on her shoulders instead. “Please. I have come because I love her. I want to marry her.” She opened her mouth to no doubt refute that claim, but he pressed on. “It is true that Gabrielle kissed me. We were lovers years ago, and she asked me to go home with her after the match. I turned her down.” Fixing on any point to sway the disbelief in her eyes, he said, “Ask Leigh. He was there and saw it all. He was even with me at the club later. He knows I did not sleep with her.”
“It’s true,” Leigh said in his lazy drawl, pushing himself away from the wall to come stand beside Evan. “Gabrielle was otherwise engaged. He slept alone, though the devil himself knows why.”
Her brow furrowed, and for the first time the mask of anger she wore began to crack. “Why should I believe you?”
Leigh grinned again, but this time it was hollow. “You should not ever believe me, Miss Crenshaw.” It was a warning heavy with a meaning Evan could not take the time to figure out.
“I love August,” Evan said, bringing her attention back to him.
“Is that why you called yesterday?” Violet asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Yes, I came to tell her that I want to marry her.”
Some of the tension left her shoulders, and she said, “She went to the fight because she wanted to tell you thatshe still harbors some affection for you. I believe she wanted to continue a courtship.”
He laughed and pulled her into his arms, hugging her so tightly that she squirmed away, glaring up at him with a hint of her former fierceness. “My apologies,” he murmured. “Where has she gone? I need to speak to her. I cannot bear the thought of her believing that I chose another woman over her.”
Violet paled and glanced nervously at the door. “She left with Max... back to America.” She spoke the last in such a soft voice that it took a moment for Evan to realize what she meant.
America. New York.Across an entire fucking ocean!
“Bloody fucking hell,” said Leigh.
“Today?” Evan asked.
Violet nodded. “They left for Liverpool this morning, and their ship sails tomorrow.”
He could only stare at her, hardly able to believe what she was telling him. August was leaving. She would return to New York thinking he did not want her. “Which ship? What time?”
“You’ll never make it.”
“I have to try.” If he did not reach her in time, he would simply follow her.
“Wait right here.” Violet hurried into the drawing room and came back with a sheet of paper. “This is their itinerary. What can I do?”
“I have to go directly to the train station. Send a message to the club that Stewart should bring my trunk.” He followed Leigh out but then turned back to her. “Thank you, Violet.”
She smiled as she threatened him. “Don’t make me regret it.”
He shook his head and hurried down the steps to his carriage.
“I can telegram the ship and have a message sent to her once we drop you at the station,” Leigh offered.
“Thank you,” said Evan, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes against an oncoming headache. He was certain a telegram would not keep August, not if she truly believed he had chosen Gabrielle. If hecould make the ship in time, he would spend the rest of his life making certain August did not regret choosing him.
Peering at his friend through one eye, Evan said, “Violet does not seem to approve of you. Do your intentions still lie in that direction?”
Leigh smirked. “Despite your newfound bourgeois attitude toward marriage, a fondness is not strictly required for marriage among our set. You know that.”
A laugh tumbled out of Evan, despite the anxiety churning inside him. “You have no idea what you are in for, you fool.”
***
August gripped one of the posts of her bed as the ship swayed, nearly making her stumble. The beast gave a great grumble and groan as it pulled away from the dock and deeper into the harbor. A quick glance at the clock bolted to a side table told her the ship was indeed leaving right on schedule. Somehow she had lost track of time as she and Mary had hurried to put her things into the armoire.
“I suppose we’re leaving. Hurry on up to the deck, Mary, I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”
The woman’s gaze went to the window. The movement was slow but steady, making it appear as if the dock and the people waving goodbye were the ones drifting away. “Are you certain, miss?”
