The enormous front hall was empty when they entered, a blazing chandelier hanging silently above them. A large staircase, equally empty and silent, bent out of sight at the far end of the hall.
Another footman calmly took Evie’s and Belle’s coats, hats, and gloves, then Belle gestured Evie to follow her. They went up the stairs, a thick runner muffling their steps.
Evie might consider the house lovely at any other time. There was cozy seating on the landing, and tables with knick-knacks ranging from costly trinkets to obvious souvenirs from family outings.
The first floor was as still as the ground floor below. If anyone was in the house, they kept out of sight and very quiet.
Belle opened a door along the hall and ushered Evie into a small sitting room furnished for comfort rather than grandeur. Overstuffed chairs had been drawn to the fireplace, books adorned every shelf, and a small piano graced one corner. A chamber to take leisure in, to enjoy.
Except for Belle and Evie, the sitting room was empty. “He’ll be down directly,” Belle said, and before Evie could protest, she slipped out and was gone, closing the door behind her.
Evie gazed at the door for one frozen moment, poised to flee. Had she been summoned to speak to Jamie? Or the formidable Ian Mackenzie and his beautiful but steely wife, Beth?
Evie had never met them, but she’d heard plenty of stories about the soft-spoken woman who’d inherited a fortune and then married the mad Ian Mackenzie. Beth Mackenzie was not to be trifled with, people said, then in the same breath proclaimed what a dear she was.
Evie should not have come here. She should have remained home and wrestled with her pain of Hayden’s confession, but her agitation had not let her sit still.
It did not let her be still now. She began to pace restlessly, wandering the comfortable chamber but unable to leave it. Belle hadn’t locked the door, but Evie knew the family wanted her to stay. Besides, she had no way of returning to Gavina’s except for a walk through the dark streets alone.
Would Gavina and Mrs. Barrow even let her stay if she went back? Perhaps for a day or two out of kindness, but she could not stop there forever.
Evie’s family was in Bedfordshire, believing her happily ensconced in the Atherton household, where she’d remain until the wedding. She’d have to tell them what had happened, beg them to fetch her home.
Evie pressed her hands to her face, her eyes dry, then she ran her fingers along the piano’s keyboard.
She knew how to play—she and her sisters had taken lessons—but she hadn’t played in some time. The Athertons had a piano, but it was only for show. No one actually made music with it.
Evie plunked herself down on the piano stool, calling to mind an easy piece she’d practiced long ago. Simple chords for the left hand, a running melody on the right. No Mozart or Chopin, but exercises from a student’s music book.
“My sister loves that piano,” Jamie rumbled from across the room. “She says it has a better voice than many concert grands she’s played.”
Evie snatched her fingers from the keys and spun around. Jamie stood by the door, as easy as he pleased, same kilt and coat he’d worn earlier today hanging from hips and shoulders.
She rose, all the words she’d wanted to throw at him vanishing. Was this why Jamie had commanded her here? So he could wipe her mind of the furious shouts she’d prepared, and melt her as usual?
Evie strengthened her resolve, standing her ground as she faced him. “You knew I’d receive that letter tonight.”
Jamie closed the door but halted halfway across the carpet, not approaching her too closely. “You see why I thought it best you were at Belle’s when you did.”
“Because you told Hayden to write it,” she said rigidly. “And exactly what to say. He’d never think of phrases like that on his own.”
“True, I suggested to him how to break it to you.”
Evie’s throat constricted. “Why did you at all? What has it to do with you?”
Jamie’s frown only made him more handsome. “You deserved to know the truth, lass.”
“Was it the truth?”
“Aye.” Jamie nodded, his face somber. “I met Atherton’s lady.”
“You met her? Did you follow him? Spy on—”
“Atherton took me to see her.” Jamie cut across her words. “He insisted. Thought it would impress me.” His frown grew more formidable. “He’s a blackguard of the worst kind, Evie. He was ready to deceive you all your life and thought nothing about it.”
“Blackguard? Do people still use that word?” Evie’s laugh was mirthless. “How do I know any of this is fact?”
Jamie took a step closer. “I think you know it is.”
Yes, she did. Hayden would never have admitted such a thing otherwise. He’d have refused in outrage and sent Jamie off, and possibly now be telling Evie what a blackguard Jamie was.
Hayden would not have broken the engagement without a compelling reason—he’d been perfectly happy to marry Evie, pleased he’d found a woman who met his parents’ exacting standards. And even if Hayden had wanted to extract himself from the betrothal, he’d have found a way that put him in a better light.
“But why is it your business?” Evie persisted. “Why have you decided to interfere in my life? For your entertainment? To laugh about it with your so very large and very close family? Is that why I am here—so they can listen and laugh?” She scanned the room as though searching for peepholes through which his sisters, parents, and many cousins could watch them.
“Entertainment?” Jamie’s voice rose. “I am trying to save you from a life of heartbreak. Do you think I’m laughing about that? I care about you, Evie. I want you to be happy. You wouldn’t have been with that ineffectual toad, and I couldn’t let you throw yourself away on him.”
“But isn’t that my choice?” Evie struck her chest with an open hand. “I should decide whom I marry, not you. I decide if my fiancé is a loathsome blackguard, not you.”
“Fair point.” Jamie nodded. “It is your decision. But if I hadn’t made Atherton confess, you’d not have found out until too late. Hate me all you want, love, banish me to the wilderness, but you needed to know what kind of man he is.”
“Which I would have discovered on my own. Hayden is not good at subterfuge.” His first ideas for stealing back the alabastron had bordered on the ludicrous.
“And as I said, by then it would be too late. You’d have been married to the idiot.”
Evie found herself closer to Jamie, though she didn’t remember moving her feet. “It is still my business. My choice to marry him or not, no matter what he does.”
Jamie sent her an incredulous look. “You’d be happy married to an adulterous prig? I’m sorry, Evie, I mistook you for a lady with some pride.”
“No, I wouldn’t have been happy.” The sting of Hayden’s betrayal smarted. But, Evie’s little voice asked, was it because of her pride or a broken heart? “What I am trying to point out, Mr. Mackenzie, is that it was none of your concern.”
“Tell me this, lass. If any of your sisters, or your friends—Iris, say—had been about to marry a dolt with a steady mistress, would you have informed them? Or quietly stepped aside and let them make up their own minds? Because it was none of your business?”