Lady Evan Wins the Day, The Cousins Book Two (Rough Draft)

Chapter Thirteen

When Rosalind woke the following morning, she didn't feel able to face the tea brought up for her. Her sleep had not been restful with worry keeping her awake far past two o'clock. Reluctantly, she sat up and grimaced at the pounding of her head.

Her husband leaned over from where he was sitting on the opposite side of the bed. "Rosy, you look pale," Evan said with a frown. "Are you well?"

"I did not sleep well, nothing more," she said honestly. She forced a smile as her husband took her hand in his. "I'm sure once I am up and about I will feel more myself. There's nothing to worry about, I promise."

"There's no chance you might be joining your cousin in an interesting situation?" There was a note of hope in her husband's voice as he asked the question.

A blush spread across her face as she realized what he was asking. "Evan. As much as I wish I could say yes, I don't think that happy event would be helpful in our situation right now," she managed to say. The idea, though, was not as easily pushed from her mind.

For a moment, disappointment was visible on Evan's face. "True," he said as he stood up. "Between us, you were always more practical."

Leaning back against her pillows, Rosalind watched her husband splash water on his face. She rested her hand against her stomach. Was it possible she was with child? Or was it simply the effects of too much stress and anxiety?

If she were expecting her firstborn, there would always be the whispers that Mr. Rowley was the father. She shuddered at the thought. The last thing she wanted was to have any shadow lingering over any of her children. She knew all too well what that was like, and wanted better for her children.

"Our fellow house party members will be arriving today," Evan said over his shoulder. "Has your cousin made any mention of who she has invited?"

"She seems to think keeping us in suspense is amusing." Rosalind shook her head and straightened up again. "Emily did say she was sure we would find them all agreeable, but that is all she's said on the matter."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Tilting her head, Rosalind studied her husband's broad back as he toweled his face dry. "There are times, my dear, I get the feeling you don't particularly care for any of my relatives."

"Then we are even, for there are times, dear Rosy, I am certain you dislike mine," Evan said, turning to face her. His face was expressionless, but his eyes had an unusual seriousness in them.

For a moment, they stared at each other. "Well, then. It's a very good thing we did not marry each other for our families," Rosalind said, breaking the silence. It took all of her self-control to keep from pointing out that it was not her family spreading rumors about them.

Returning to the bed, Evan leaned down to kiss her. "Have I mentioned you are the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers. "Helen of Troy was a guttersnipe in comparison."

"While I don't think anyone is going to launch an army because of me, I do appreciate the sentiment," Rosalind said with a smile. She reached up to place her hand on the back of his neck. "Are you planning on rushing off with Mr. Williams again today?"

"Though he is a trusty trojan, I am open to any ideas of how you and I could spend the day," Evan said, shifting closer. His breath brushed against her lips.

The door squeaked as it opened. "Pardon me, my lord," said Evan's valet, his tone questioning.

Sighing, Evan straightened up. "Yes, Quinn? What is it?"

"A messenger from London arrived with a letter for you." The man kept his eyes discreetly down as he held the salver forward.

Evan moved around the bed and strode to the door. He took one look at the handwriting, and his forehead furrowed with a scowl. "Why am I not surprised," he muttered just loud enough for Rosalind to overhear.