Crocodile on the Sandbank - Elizabeth Peters [30]
“From that evening, Grandfather never recovered. By morning he was much worse, and although he tried once or twice to speak, he never uttered a consecutive sentence. But, dearest Evelyn, I am convinced he wanted to speak of you. I am sure he forgave you and wanted you back. I hope you will believe that.”
Evelyn’s head was bowed. Crystal drops splashed down onto her hands.
“A very affecting narrative,” I said drily. “Evelyn, you will spoil that dress. Satin water-stains badly.”
Evelyn took a deep breath and dabbed at her eyes. Lucas had the effrontery to wink at me. I ignored him.
“Well,” I said “that solves one problem, does it not, Evelyn? The motives of our visitor become more comprehensible. The individual to whom I refer had not heard of the final fatality, but was informed of the preceding recovery. Hope springs eternal.”
“You need not be so tactful,” Evelyn said dully. “Lucas must know to whom we refer. His manner has been generosity itself, but I will not insult him by glossing over my dreadful—”
“You will insult me if you ever refer to the matter again,” Lucas interrupted. “The past is finished; unless I should be fortunate enough to encounter a certain individual someday in a quiet spot…. Evelyn, let me finish my narrative. You have heard the distressing part, let me proceed to happier matters.”
“Happier?” Evelyn smiled sadly.
“Happier, I hope. I hope you cannot be insensible to my actions, my feelings… As soon as the obsequies of our ancestors had been celebrated, I set out in pursuit of you. And here I am, only waiting for your consent to share our fortune—I cannot call it mine—and, if you will, our title, our lives, and our name!”
He leaned back in his chair, beaming on both of us like a youthful Father Christmas.
I really did have a hard time maintaining my dislike of Mr. Lucas; my prejudices struggled and were almost subdued. The offer was magnificent, noble; and it was made with a delicacy I would not have believed possible.
Then the meaning of Lucas’s last phrase penetrated my brain, and I exclaimed, “Sir, are you proposing marriage?”
“I don’t think my words are open to any other interpretation,” said Lucas, grinning broadly.
Evelyn sat openmouthed and staring. Twice she tried to speak; twice her voice failed her. Then she cleared her throat, and on the third attempt succeeded.
“Lucas, this is too much. I cannot believe—you cannot mean—”
“Why not?” Leaning forward, he captured her hands in his. “We were meant for each other, Evelyn. Common sense, worldly values and, I hope, mutual affection design us for one another. Oh, I know you don’t love me. I know your heart is bruised and fearful. Let me offer it a refuge in my heart! Let me teach you to love me as I adore you.”
His intense dark eyes shone with an ardent light; his handsome features were set in an expression of tenderness. I really did not see how a girl could resist him. But, as I had learned, Evelyn was made of sterner stuff than she appeared. And, as I was about to learn, the sentiment that had entered her heart was stronger than I had supposed.
“Lucas,” she said gently. “I cannot tell you how much your offer moves me. All my life I will honor and revere you as one of the noblest gentlemen of my acquaintance. But I cannot marry you.”
“If you fear censure—” Lucas began.
“I do fear it—for your sake rather than my own. But that is not why I refuse your generous offer. I will never marry. There is an image enshrined in my heart—”
Lucas dropped her hands. His expression was one of disbelief.
“Not that wretched—”
“No.” Evelyn flushed. “Certainly not.”
“I am relieved to hear it!” Lucas looked thoughtful. Then his face cleared. “Dearest Evelyn, I am not disheartened. I was prepared for a refusal, although the reason you cite does rather take me by surprise. However, it does not alter the facts of the case. Such a sudden affection—forgive me, Cousin, but it is the truth—cannot be a deep affection. With time, I will