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“You,” she cried, pointing a shaking finger at him. “You are the one who has engineered all of this! Papa didn’t care if I was betrothed or not untilyoucame back to Bosworth, manipulating him!”

“You have gone too far, Sister,” snarled Richard, standing up to face her. “This is what happens when you overindulge a daughter, Papa. She speaks her mind far too freely and refuses to do her duty.” He took a deep, ragged breath. “But youwilldo your duty, Evelina. The contract has been signed. It is done, Sister. It would be far easier for you if you just accept your fate and be done with it.”

“Papa,” she cried, turning to her father. “I beseech you. Please reconsider this. Do not make me marry that gentleman. I beg you.”

Her father was as white as a sheet now. He picked up his napkin, pressing it against his forehead. Evelina waited a moment, but he didn’t say anything.

Her heart crashed to the floor. She knew she couldn’t convince him to stop this betrothal. She realised now it was the reason he had been so adamant yesterday that she must keep courting Mr Beaumont, that he wouldn’t accept her courting anyone else. It was because the contract had already been signed. But he hadn’t told her that, of course.

She had been betrayed by all of them.

She couldn’t stand being in the room with either of them for a second longer. With a cry of distress, she fled the room, rushing out to the gardens. Her face was streaming with tears, but she didn’t care if anyone saw her. She didn’t care about anything. Her life was over, and she was going to weep her heart out if it pleased her.

She kept running until she could run no more. Then she collapsed onto the ground. It was cold, and she wasn’t even wearing a shawl, but she didn’t care about that, either.

Snowflakes drifted slowly down, landing on her face, melting and intermingling with her tears. She sobbed quietly, her heart breaking again, thinking of what her life was going to be like married to Mr Beaumont.

“Evelina?”

She jumped. Jude was standing there, gazing at her, a worried expression on his face. She didn’t know what to say to him.

“I saw you running out of the house,” he said in a quiet voice. “I hope I have done the right thing following you. I do not want to intrude, but I am worried about you.”

“Oh, Jude,” she whispered, gazing at him steadily. “All is lost.”

“How so?” he asked, taking a step towards her carefully, as if she were a horse that was likely to bolt. “Tell me.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath. “My family has informed me that I am betrothed to Mr Beaumont,” she said slowly. “In fact, I have been betrothed to him for over a week now. They decided not to tell me, so I might accept the fact easier in the long term if I thought I was being courted.”

Jude gaped at her. He looked devastated. Her heart twisted with longing for him, but she didn’t move. What was the point? She couldn’t offer him any comfort. She couldn’t reassure him of anything.

They had agreed just last evening that they were both determined to keep seeing each other, to appreciate whatever time they had together, and accept that it was finite. But that was before she had known she was betrothed. The end was firmly in sight now. Soon, she would be married to another man, and they would never be in each other’s arms again.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, her heart twisting anew. “Truly I am.”

He was silent for another moment, staring off into space. He looked so sad that she put her head into her hands, crying afresh.

“Evelina,” he said, in a gentle whisper, sitting beside her. “Please, do not cry. I know this is not what you wanted. I cannot bear to see you so upset.”

“I would have chosen you,” she whispered, gazing at him beseechingly. “It would have been you, Jude. Only you.”

He gave a strangled gasp, reaching out for her. She fell into his arms. Blindly, they kissed. It was a furious kiss, full of their pent-up passion… a passion that could never be fulfilled.

Eventually, he broke away. She could barely see his face in the darkness.

“I would have chosen you as well, Evelina,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “If I had the means to win you, I would do it, come what may.” He shuddered. “If I was a wealthy, titled man, you would be mine. I would never give up.”

Her heart gloried to hear the words. She would always cherish them, knowing that if things had been different, he would have chosen her, just like she would have chosen him. It would be a comfort in days to come, something to think about on frosty nights, when the unhappiness became unbearable.

For she knew she could never find happiness with Mr Beaumont. They were incompatible, such different people that they may as well be members of a different species entirely. He would never understand her, just as she would never understand him.

But she had no choice now. She must do her duty.

And suddenly, she couldn’t bear it a second longer. She got up, wiping away her tears with the back of her hands. Then she turned to Jude.

“I must go,” she whispered, her heart breaking once more. “But thank you. For everything.”

She raced down the path, back to the house. She felt numb all over. Her life as she knew it was over. And the worst of it was leaving behind the man who had shown her that something more had been possible. Jude was the man she would have chosen, if only she could.


Tags: Henrietta Harding Historical