Page 56 of Portrait of a Lady
Aubrey nodded, giving Evelyn a wink. “I’d be delighted.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” Melanie bemoaned. “I have a party to host, otherwise I’d never miss it.”
Hugh released Evelyn and took his sister into his arms. “Thank you...for everything.”
Pulling back, she patted his cheek and smiled. “My favorite brother becomes a famous artist and gets married all in one in day. I am happy for you, Hugh.”
Releasing him, she urged them to go before rushing off to revel in her newfound status as the woman who’d thrown the Season’s most memorable party.
Taking Evelyn’s hand, he rushed her from the ballroom as swiftly as he could with Benedict and Aubrey helping ward off those pressing in to congratulate them or get a closer look. As they burst out onto the front steps and descended to Benedict’s carriage, Hugh glanced over at Evelyn to find her grinning from ear to ear. The gravity of the moment settled on him with a somber poignancy. He’d walked into this ballroom with a hope that had just been fulfilled, for he now held the rest of his life in one hand.
Later that evening,Evelyn sat on the bed in Hugh’s bedchamber, wrapped in a dressing gown which concealed the ensemble she’d donned just for him. No, not Hugh’s bedroom...theirbedroom. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread so swiftly it was a wonder it didn’t split her face in two. The hours after they’d left the ball had passed in a whirlwind, with their hasty, private ceremony in Hugh’s drawing room with Aubrey and Benedict as witnesses, followed by a later dinner and champagne in celebration.
There hadn’t been time to inform anyone else, and her staff had been utterly shocked when she had stopped off at home to pack a valise and join her husband in his home. She’d informed Patience that she no longer had need of a companion now that she was wed, but the position of lady’s maid was hers until such time as she could become a properly trained housekeeper. She and Joseph would join them tomorrow, joining Hugh’s household, while her housekeeper, cook, and second footman stayed at her previous residence since Evelyn had decided to let the townhouse as soon as possible. Those servants would come with the property. Another order of business for the next day would include visiting her mother and sister, and informing them that they’d been right about her and Hugh all along. They’d be furious to know she’d gotten married without them, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Hiring Hugh as her courtesan had been a thing to do for herself—a choice made for her own happiness. She had continued on that path by choosing to marry him. Her mother and sister already had the lives they’d wanted...this was her life, her choice.
After such an eventful and emotional day, she ought to be exhausted. However, she was far too giddy to register any such feelings, her entire body vibrating from the excitement of it all.
She was now the wife of The Honourable Mr. Hugh Radcliffe, a thought that made her giggle uncontrollably whenever it came to her mind. She flopped back onto the bed with a laugh of disbelief, closing her eyes and basking in the warmth that had stolen over her at the ball and had yet to lift. She’d begun her arrangement with Hugh thinking it would offer a temporary distraction from her loneliness, and had gained something far more permanent. She’d never go lonely, unloved, or unappreciated ever again.
Opening her eyes, she frowned and wondered what was keeping Hugh. He’d urged her to prepare for bed before leaving the bedchamber, telling her he had a wedding gift of sorts for her. Half an hour had passed and she’d been ready for quite some time, yet he had not reappeared. She was anxious to have him near her again, her body aching for a touch she’d gone far too long without. The weeks stretching behind them now seemed endless in hindsight, reminding her of how much she’d missed him.
He is yours now, forever. You will never have to be without him for so long again.
Another joyous laugh escaped her as she sat up in bed, determined to go after her husband and drag him back to this room. It occurred to her that he might have gotten distracted in his studio, but she told herself not to be ridiculous. It was their wedding night, and he would never leave her up here alone while he tarried downstairs to sketch or paint.
A moment later, the door opened and Hugh appeared, holding two items in his hands.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, but it took me longer to prepare than I anticipated.”
“Prepare for what?” she asked, watching as he laid what looked like a paintbox on the bedside table, while keeping a book in his grasp.
“We’ll get to that in a moment. First...your gift.”
She perched on the edge of the bed as he approached, wondering what sort of book he’d gotten her as a wedding gift. He paused before her, reaching down to stroke her unbound hair before speaking.
“First, I must say I had hoped the day would end this way, but I still find myself stunned to be going to bed tonight with mywife. Thank you for marrying me, Mrs. Radcliffe.”
The smile was back, making her cheeks ache as she felt as if she might never stop grinning. “I love the way that sounds...Mr. Radcliffe.”
“Now, for your gift,” he said, extending the book to her. “I was a bit presumptuous, but when I realized I could pull it off, I couldn’t resist.”
She took the book, which had been bound burgundy leather and adorned with fine, hand-tooled gilt. Laying it in her lap, she lifted the cover to reveal the title page and frontispiece, both of which made her breath catch and hold.The Mad Baron, read the title page, with the opposite frontispiece in breathtaking full-color depicting Regina running across the moonlit moors, her skirts held in one hand and her cape flying behind her as she gazed over her shoulder with wide eyes at the unseen Baron Redgrave. At the bottom, Hugh’s distinct initials had been signed with a flourish, marking it as his work.
Her breath came out on a startled cry as she gazed up at Hugh. “You...you …”
“The manuscript was left here all those weeks ago, and in the time that passed since then I’ve read it four times. It is a brilliant work, Evie, so good that I couldn’t stand for others not to know how good. So, I spent days transcribing a fair copy without all your markings and corrections to take to a publisher. I drew from my savings to front all the initial costs for printing, and within a matter of weeks it will be released in bookshops and circulating libraries all over London. The frontispiece is my work, as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now. Only your personal copy has it rendered in color—which I did myself just for you. The others will be copied in black ink.”
She stared back down at the title page in awe, running her fingers over the scrawling typeface spelling out an unfamiliar name.
“E. Whiswich,” she read aloud.
“A pseudonym to protect your identity,” he said with a little shrug. “I didn’t want to subject you to another scandal, or unwanted attention. But I also did not want for this book to sit languishing in a drawer along with the others. So, when you see ladies in the park and at the library with their nose buried in copies ofThe Mad Baronthen you’ll know...you were worthy all along, Evie. You only needed someone to believe in you, and show you that you needed to believe in yourself.”
The book fell atop the coverlet as she rose to her feet and launched herself into his arms. He gathered her close, resting his head atop hers as she buried her face in his chest.
“It’s the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you, Hugh.”
He ran a hand over her hair and kissed her crown. “The publisher says that if the copies we printed sell well enough, he’ll front the costs for the next book. So, I suppose you’d better get to work preparingThe Vicious Viscount.”
