“Perhaps I’m tired, tired of listening to advice from a man who barely lives in the real world, a man so cold and detached he may as well be dead.”
Evelyn slapped her hand across her mouth, shocked at her disrespectful outburst. All this talk of Mr. Sutherby had left her nerves in tatters, and the earl had a way of bringing out the worst in her.
The earl did not look offended. He simply raised his glass and said, “Then sleep well, Miss Bromwell. I have a feeling tomorrow will be a rather interesting day.”
Chapter 5
Evelyn gave a disgruntled sigh, plumped her pillow and cuddled into it. Sleep often eluded her. Her mind always chose the early hours to mull over the day’s events and the day had certainly given her a tremendous amount to contemplate.
Although she was loath to admit it, the earl was right. She did not love Mr. Sutherby.
/> It was a complicated dilemma.
Was it silly and naive to imagine one must love a man with all of their heart before agreeing to a lifelong commitment? Then again, perhaps marriage was the solid foundation needed for feelings to blossom and grow into the sort of love that lasts forever. Of course, it helped if the gentleman was kind, well-mannered and polite.
Her thoughts were drawn to the earl. His dark, oppressive mood made her angry, made her feel frustrated and confused as she struggled to try to understand him. Yet he had managed to peer into her soul as if it were an open window. One glance and he knew the fears and doubts hidden inside. Mr. Sutherby did fall short of her expectations. She didn’t love him, and there was a vital ingredient missing.
Damn the earl for interfering.
Damn him for being so perceptive.
Feeling the need to find a distraction, she climbed out of bed, rummaged through her luggage, the small trunk having been retrieved from the wreckage, and put on her wrapper. There was not much she could do in the middle of the night. But she’d sit and comfort her aunt who, despite being weak and lethargic, had regained consciousness.
The earl had been right about that, too.
Evelyn eased the door away from the jamb and crept out. For some reason, she stepped left instead of right, lured by the sight of the moon’s reflection shining through the window at the end of the hall. She’d spent many a sleepless night staring up at the moon. The vision created a stillness within, a feeling she belonged to something infinitely bigger, and it made her feel at peace.
Her feet carried her to the window before her mind conjured the thought, and she drank in the sight of the silver sphere set against the inky-black sky. Lost in thoughtful contemplation, she didn’t notice the earl at first. He stepped off the gravel path and walked towards what would have once been a decorative garden. The overgrown topiary spilled out onto the path, the water no longer flowed from the spouts on the fountain and the rose bushes were scraggy and unkempt.
Where could he be going at such an ungodly hour?
Without any warning, he swung around and punched the air. Evelyn jumped back into the shadows for fear of being seen. Had his anger reached such an uncontrollable level that he was forced to take his frustration outdoors?
Curiosity burning away inside, she edged back to the window and peeked out. She saw the earl sitting on a bench opposite the fountain. He was staring up at the moon as though the Lord had forsaken him and he was pleading for forgiveness; then he looked down and cradled his head in his hands.
Surely he wasn’t weeping?
A lump formed in Evelyn’s throat; a hollow cavern opened up in her chest. She fought the powerful urge to go to him, to ease his troubled mind, to find the good buried so deeply within. Struggling with a range of surprising emotions, she closed her eyes to calm the restlessness consuming her.
When she opened them again and found the courage to look out, she was not prepared for the shocking sight that greeted her.
The earl had stripped off his coat and cravat and was busy working on stripping off every other piece of clothing until he stood naked, bare as the day he was born. Beneath the celestial setting, his skin glistened with a silvery sheen, his muscular body carved to perfection: powerful, hard, yet graceful. Even though she knew it was wrong — a gross invasion of his privacy — she could not help but stare in awe at the sculptured contours.
The Earl of Hale was a magnificent specimen of a man.
With an open mouth, she watched him walk down to the bottom of the garden, to the narrow river meandering through his property. And then he slid into the water and out of sight.
Evelyn didn’t make it to her aunt’s room.
Instead, she threw off her wrapper, climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin, all in a desperate bid to dampen the fire burning in her belly. She could not erase the image from her mind.
She’d never known a man be so bold, so unconventional, so exciting.
How was it possible to despise a man and desire him both at the same time?
A strange sort of need clawed away at her, and she plastered her hand over her mouth to help ease the shock. Half of her wanted to throw on her clothes and run as far away from Stony Cross as her legs could manage. The other half wanted to strip off everything and swim naked with him in the river.
Oh, God!