McGilvery raised both hands. “I asked, didn’t I?”
“My father is threatening to cut me off,” Henry burst out, the first time to say it out loud to another person. “Because of the paper from a few weeks ago.”
McGilvery’s mouth dropped open. “Oh. Oh.”
“Yes,” Henry agreed. “Oh.”
“He is that opposed to your work? My father seems pleased that I have some sort pastime that isn’t drinking or whoring like my brothers do.”
Henry shrugged. “You would think mine would feel the same, but he is tied up in what he believes a gentleman of even a little rank should do. If I participate in this work, it sullies his good name and that is that. He is not to be reasoned with.” His words caught in his throat and he nearly choked on them. “I don’t know what to do. He’s given me a week to decide if it is to be cut off or give up my research.”
“A week?” McGilvery repeated in even greater shock than before.
Hearing it repeated to him made Henry’s stomach turn even more with renewed anxiety. “Five days, actually. His edict was issued two days ago, so my time slips away like sand through a damned hourglass. God’s teeth, McGilvery, what am I to do?”
His friend shook his head and Henry sank back into his chair and covered his eyes. This was exactly why he had not shared his plight with anyone in his acquaintance. None of them were even as well off as he was, they couldn’t help him. Even if they could, it would be unfair to ask another person to take responsibility for what he would give up.
What he would lose either way.
“Killam—” McGilvery began, but was interrupted when the society steward, Mr. Croome, stepped into the room.
“I beg your pardon, gentlemen, but a missive has arrived for you, Mr. Killam.”
Henry looked up. Occasionally his household forwarded what seemed to be important letters to him here, in case he didn’t come home for days on end as he worked. Now he found himself staring at a letter on fine paper, folded exquisitely and stamped in expensive wax. Immediately his thoughts went to his father. This could easily be a message from him, demanding an answer now no matter what the terms of the original mandate had been.
He took the letter reluctantly and stared at the seal. It was not the ornate K of his father’s stamp, but an e. Lowercase, feminine. He wrinkled his brow as he broke it and unfolded the note.
“Who is it from?” McGilvery asked.
“Evangeline,” Henry breathed, reading her words slowly.
Henry,
It truly was a pleasure running into you at the park the other day. I do hope you will come to call very soon, as I would like to continue our conversation. Perhaps this afternoon if it is not too busy for you?
Yours,
Evangeline
He did not think he had ever had the pleasure of a letter from Evangeline before. Now he stared at the words, written in a neat, feminine hand that was pure her.
“And just who is Evangeline?” McGilvery asked, drawing out her name playfully.
Henry looked up. He somehow hadn’t realized he’d said her name out loud and revealed this little weakness to his friend.
“Er, an old friend,” he explained.
Both of McGilvery’s brows lifted. “A friend, eh? Must be some friend to make you forget your troubles with just a few lines.”
Henry ducked his head. McGilvery had no idea just how close to the mark he was. Henry had always forgotten everything but Evangeline the moment she entered any room. It had been that way since she was fifteen and she’d smiled at some terrible joke he told. Since then, making her smile or laugh had been one of his greatest accomplishments. He’d made quite a study of her sense of humor. And, to be honest, just as deep an analysis of the way the light hit her face, the way her eyes changed color ever so slightly depending on what she wore.
“You like her,” McGilvery said with a laugh when Henry had been silent for so long.
Henry jerked his face up and found McGilvery lounging back in his chair, grinning at him. He shook his head, pushing his distracting thoughts of Evangeline aside as he always had to in the end. “I assure you, we are nothing more than friends. Acquaintances, really. Lady Evangeline is out of my orbit,” he said with a shrug.
“But she’s putting herself in your orbit,” McGilvery said, reaching for the letter and holding it up with a shake. “Croome!”
The steward had begun to leave the room, but hustled back. “Yes, Mr. McGilvery?”
“Was this letter forwarded from Mr. Killam’s house or was it sent here directly?”
“Ah, well, it was not Mr. Killam’s usual messenger,” Croome said. “So I must hypothesize that it was sent directly. The man’s livery was very fine, but not one I recognized as belonging to a member.”
“Excellent,” McGilvery said with another grin in Henry’s direction. “Thank you.”
As the steward left, McGilvery got up and dropped the letter back in front of Henry on the table. “You like her and she is apparently aware enough of your schedule that she is sending you notes directly to the society. Notes asking you to call on her.”
“You read it?” Henry asked.
“Of course I did. So does this lady above your orbit have money?”
Henry drew back. “I—why?”
“That could solve your father problems, if you married yourself a lady with a fat dowry, couldn’t it? Assuming the lady wouldn’t mind if you continue your exploits here.”
A brief imagine entered Henry’s mind. Of marrying Evangeline. Of a wedding night with Evangeline. A ripple of awareness flowed through his body, but he stifled it.
“No one is marrying anyone,” he said.
“But you will call on her, of course,” McGilvery said.
Henry stared at the letter again. The words flowed one to the next, a smooth line of ups and downs like waves. They were almost peaceful. And while being with Evangeline, herself, had never been a peaceful experience, when he thought of it, it did lift his spirits.
“I would be remiss if I did not do so,” he said. “Especially since I left the lady rather abruptly a two days ago.”
“Good,” McGilvery said with a salute as he drew papers back in front of himself. “You’ll make yourself mad if you only think of figures and terrible futures. Seems a good idea to fill your head with celestial beings of a much finer kind. Off with you.”
Henry sighed, but he didn’t argue. In truth, he really did need a break from the riot of his mind. And spending a few hours with Evangeline couldn’t do any harm. At least it would give him fodder for fantasies that came at night. Ones he would never live out, but that kept his dreams sweet indeed.
Evangeline moved down the hall, smoothing her skirts as she did so and pausing only to check her appearance in the mirror above a table in the hallway. She tucked back an errant hair and then drew a breath as she stood outside the parlor where Henry had been placed ten minutes before.
She had not fully expected him to scurry over so soon after receiving her note. But it was a good sign. One that gave her back some of her confidence after his abandoning of her in the park two days before.
“Are you going in or making him wait all day?” Tibby asked softly.