She turned back to Richard, fixing him with a malevolent look, before gazing back at her father, who was still concentrating on his boiled egg.
“Papa,” she repeated. “Please?”
Her father grunted before finally looking up at her. His eyes meet hers for a moment, before flickering away.
“I am sorry, Evelina,” he said, clearing his throat. “But Richard is right. We spoke at length on the subject last evening, and he reminded me forcibly that I have been very remiss in my duty towards you in that way since your mother’s passing.”
“You have not,” cried Evelina, her heart thumping hard. “Iwantto be with you. I do not wish to court at the moment! My priority is your wellbeing and Bosworth Manor.” She turned back to Richard. “I am needed here, Brother.”
“I have taken advantage of your sweet nature, Evelina,” said her father in a quiet voice. “It has been easy to let you take over the running of the manor. But it is not fair to you, daughter. You should be running your own home, not playing nursemaid to a bereaved man.”
Evelina’s hands tightened. She stared at her brother, who was looking smug, as if he had won an argument.
“Why are you interfering?” she cried. “Why do you care so much if I marry or live here forever? None of it affects you in the slightest. I do not understand!”
Richard sighed heavily. “It is my business to make sure you fulfil your potential, sister,” he said, in a pompous voice. “That is all I am doing.”
Evelina glared at him, her heart thumping harder. She knew it wasn’t anything to do with benevolence or duty towards her. It was simply about Richard throwing his weight around, exerting control at Bosworth Manor, even though he didn’t even live here.
Her blood ran cold. But hewouldone day. One day he would inherit the title and Bosworth Manor when their father died. And her brother didn’t want a spinster sister to be ensconced here when that day arrived. This was his way of getting her out of the house before it happened so she wouldn’t be in the way, acting like the lady of the manor, so he was in total control.
This was Richard’s attempt at a relatively bloodless coup, so he could avoid a battle royal in the future.
“I will not marry a man I do not love,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion. “I will not do it!”
“We shall see, won’t we?” said Richard, in a maddening voice. “Evelina, you are far too opinionated for a lady. Too used to getting your own way. If your father and brother have spoken, it is your duty to agree and comply, you know.”
Evelina’s face hardened. She knew he was right; itwasher duty to obey her father. But she didn’t think it extended to her brother. And she knew that this was all Richard’s doing. He had manipulated their father. He was pulling the strings here. She and her father had been very content until he had arrived, upending the applecart.
He had always been a dominant, boorish character. Papa had always spoilt and indulged his only son and heir, kowtowing to his desires and demands. Evelina knew it broke Papa’s heart that Richard insisted on living in London and not the manor, that he would have liked both his children close since their loss, but he never pressured Richard into doing so. Richard was given free rein to do everything he liked when he liked.
“Let us not argue, children,” said their father, in a firmer voice. “It will spoil what little time we have together over this Christmas season.”
Evelina pursed her lips but didn’t say anything. What could she say? But she was determined to get her father alone and talk to him privately about this matter, away from Richard. She was sure she could convince him to let go of this idea. Surely?
***
That afternoon, Evelina retired to her room, almost tearing her hair out in frustration. She hadn’t had a moment to talk to Papa privately for the entire day. Richard had monopolised every moment of their father’s time since breakfast, dragging him out to shoot clay pigeons on the grounds for most of the morning.
She gritted her teeth as she gazed out the window, watching them head out on horses through the high gates of the manor. Apparently, they were heading to Sir Henry Beaumont’s neighbouring house, who was an old friend of her father’s.
They are as thick as thieves;she thought darkly. I must find a moment to talk privately to Papa.
She sighed. She supposed she should be grateful that Papa was out and about doing things with Richard, as opposed to wasting the day away in his study, which was what he usually did. And if it wasn’t for her brother’s clearly manipulative agenda, she would be.
Suddenly, her heart quickened, gripping the windowsill tightly. Jude had just appeared, walking towards the carriage. She watched him jump onto the top, retrieving something, before jumping down and vanishing from view.
Evelina gasped, feeling quite faint. It was the first time she had seen him since their kiss. She hadn’t been expecting such an intense reaction.
She turned and walked to the bed, lying down, gazing up at the ceiling. This was going to be much harder than she imagined. She knew she must avoid him at all costs, and she couldn’t afford to indulge this fierce desire for the coachman any longer. It had already progressed far more than she had ever expected.
She reached up, touching her lips in wonder. They still felt seared. She had wanted that kiss. And she wanted him to kiss her again. It was like an ache in the pit of her stomach.
She had never felt anything like it. Desire was a force beyond her imagination. She had never known how powerful it could be.
It was possessing her now, just thinking about him and that kiss. A delicious warmth spread through her entire body, flowing through her blood like honey. She writhed on the bed, in an agony of wanting, unlike anything she had ever felt before.
She closed her eyes, imagining him above her in this very room. Leaning down to kiss her lips in exactly the same way he had last night. Then his mouth drifted lower, trailing down her neck before arriving at her breasts. She shuddered, thinking about him reaching for them, holding them, and caressing them…