Aris and Evangeline - Early Arrival, (Un)welcome Guests

Weeks passed and the warmer weather became more unbearably hot. Evangeline had to create a whole new wardrobe just to keep up with the oppressive humidity. Eloise helped her by giving her advice on what materials to buy and which seamstresses to use. The two of them had become fast friends, much to Aristotle and Jean's dismay since the two would gang up on them mercilessly. Especially during evenings where they played cards. Somehow the women had developed a system to communicate that insured their wins every time, which frustrated the men to no avail.

Since the night of the dinner party, Evangeline and Aristotle had called a silent truce as long as neither party brought up the time they had remaining. It made for a more soothing stay. They went about their affairs as if time was on their side. At night they made passionate love and during the day they made passionate love. Occasionally, they would interact with the world around them, but most often they were in each others arms, wherever they could find the privacy.

Madeline had kept her promise and had stayed in the country with her mother removing all tension from the house, which made it easier for Eloise and Jean to visit without fear. On certain nights, Jean-Pierre would join the couples at the dinner table and regaled them with stories of his little adventures. The visits gave Jean a chance to visit with his son without drawing suspicion from the boy. It was all quite nice. That was why Aristotle thought trouble would arise again when letters came from Madeline addressed to himself, Jean and Jean-Pierre. He sat in his study staring at all three notes debating what he would do.

"You'll drive yourself mad." Evangeline singsonged as she swished into the room staring at the grimace lining Aristotle's face.

"What is she planning?" he questioned aloud.

"Well, start with this one." She handed over the letter addressed to him. He looked at her, then took the note and opened it.

Aris,

I cannot begin to tell you the shame I feel for what I put you through these past years. I can remember the countless times you scolded me like child for acting so foolishly and recklessly. Here I thought I was being a woman of the world, but apparently I was a fool. I am ashamed to admit this but I was never ready to be a mother, but my greed, foolish pride and shame over what I had done kept me from admitting the truth. It was something that Evangeline said that night that brought about my revelation. I am loath to admit it, but she was right. I had to pull myself out of this drudgery and find myself. 

Mama was quite surprised when she saw me on her doorstep. She feared I had done something far worse than the last scandal. But she welcomed me with open arms and we had the most beautiful talk. She helped me come to some decisions that I think will be beneficial to me and everyone else. Something I should've done a long time ago really. As you will notice, you received letters for both Jean and Jean-Pierre. Please make sure they receive them and please explain to my son that I love him, but I am not the one who should raise him for I still have a lot of raising to do myself. 

I know this may not sit well with you, Aris, but, for once, I am thinking of the boy and not myself. You're a bachelor and cannot offer him the kind of stability and discipline that Jean and his wife can. That night I had seen to what depths he loves her and how well paired they are. I've heard of all the nice things she had done for Jean-Pierre while he was her student. Things that had made me feel sorely lacking. Hence why I had lashed out at him. Something that makes me very ashamed to admit.

I have also sent a letter to France for Count Devereaux explaining I will no longer require his services and have renounced him as Jean-Pierre's father. I'm sure he will not care, but at least my conscience is clear. I plan to do a lot of soul searching here in the country. Mama has already dragged me to several church socials with her hoping to assuage my sins. And you can inform your Evangeline that I did not burst into flames as she had predicted when I attended church last Sunday. I guess the Lord still does pay me mind. 


As for your Evangeline, as much as I hate to admit this, she pairs well with you, Aris. Her arrogance far outshines yours. And it seems she keeps you more than satisfied. Which reminds me: you may want to move your guest quarters to the other side of the villa to avoid any on lookers. Well, I do hope you come to visit. Mama has been asking after you.


Much love and care,
Madeline

Aristotle shook his head, smiling at his sister's words. When he glanced up, he saw that Evangeline had been leaning on his desk watching him the whole time. His sister's words had flitted across his mind again. He had been fighting his feelings for weeks now, but he had to admit, to himself at least, that he had fallen helplessly in love with Evangeline. He loved waking up with her by his side or snuggled close to his chest. He loved their discussions and debates over business. Her mind was far too sharp and quick witted for her own good. She made him do things, feel things he had never thought he would. Most of all, he relished their quiet moments, where they would sit holding one another on the veranda, watching the sun set into the ocean. He never thought he would find such joy in a simple act.

And then there was their adventurousness.

On one of the hottest days on the island, while out riding horses by the seashore, Evangeline had slid off her mount, stripped down to her shift, then dove flawlessly into the ocean. Aristotle had nearly lost his mind with fear until he realized the silly girl could swim like a fish. He had dove into the surf to save her, but was dunked soundly for his effort. But afterwards they had made love in the sand; unashamed and uninhibited. There had been so much passion in the act that it had been the first time he had recognized how much he actually loved his Evangeline. Time had gone by far too quickly - three months worth. He dreaded looking at his calendar for fear he would go mad. A couple of times, when he was alone with his thoughts, he would grow dark and would brood over the idea of her leaving. He was tempted to plead for her to stay again, but knew it would only cause trouble.

"What did she say?" Evangeline broke into his thoughts, pulling him into the present.

"She's doing well. Mama is happy to have her and she's made some decisions."

Evangeline smirked teasingly. "What brought about the smile?"

"An observation she made." He folded the letter to tuck into the desk drawer.

"Are you going to share?"

He chuckled, drawing her onto his lap for a kiss. "Let's say she may shine you in a different light."  

They both giggled at the thought, when they noticed Jacques' slow approach. "Monsieur, a Como Andrade is here - for Madame Evangeline."

"Como!" Evangeline exclaimed merrily leaping from his lap to run into the hall. She had missed the surprise and sadness that had flitted across his eyes. It was too soon, Aristotle thought. Sighing heavily, he rose from his desk to follow her into the hall. When he entered the foyer, he found Evangeline hugging the petite man, who returned her embrace wholeheartedly. Watching the exchange was not making Aristotle any more happier with the man's early arrival. He wasn't due for another month. Why was he here now?

"Oh, Como, I have missed you," she sighed, touching his face.

"The gossip mills have missed you more." Como teased with a wave of his hand. "It seems you had neglected to inform your lovers of your sudden departure and there was quite a stir in one of your establishments."

"Oh, Johnny and Franco! Did they cause too much damage?" she cringed.

"Nothing Nato couldn't handle. I had to escape the island incognito so they wouldn't be tempted to follow."

"Which brings up my next question? Why are you here so early?"

Como gave a leery look over to a frowning Aristotle before answering in their language. "I assumed you would've wanted an earlier exit if he had grown tired of you." Evangeline blushed slightly drawing her friend's notice. "I guess I assumed wrong. Singha?"

"Singha." She concurred with a smile. "We will talk later. Now tell me, did everything go well?"

Como sighed wearily. "I had made it back to the island just slightly ahead of your stepfather. I gave the missive to your solicitor who quickly dispatched the men to handle him. Unfortunately, that wily bastard escaped after being informed. No one has been able to find him since. I'm sorry, Evangeline."

Fire sparked in her golden eyes at the news. Como waved away the unpleasantness to add, "Besides, your brothers were highly concerned that you had not returned home with me, even after I explained you were alright. So, I was forced back on the next boat coming this way."

"And of course, I could not let him come alone," a voice added from the doorway.

All eyes fell on the tall, handsome gentleman dressed in a finely tailored gray suit. His eyes were the same golden brown as Evangeline's as was the broad smile he beamed. Women would be paralyzed by such brilliance. He dripped charm and seduction just like Evangeline did. He entered the foyer straight for Evangeline, who had tears of happiness in her eyes. Aristotle watched the man carefully. He didn't like his presence in his home.

"Rui!" she screamed embracing him. She was lifted from the ground and swung about. "Look at you!"

The man stretched out his arms and twirled about for her approval. "You scamp! I'm sure you had the female passengers drooling."

He blushed slightly. "Following in my sister's footsteps. When Como told me what happened I had to come."

"As you can see your sister has come to no harm," Aristotle interjected drawing the man's eye.

Evangeline quickly recognized the possessive note in his voice and thought to ease the tension. "Aristotle, this is Rui, my youngest brother."

"So I heard." He drew her closer to his side while his dark brown eyes bore into the young man, who didn't seem too please by his move.

"I've come to collect my sister, Monsieur Beauvois. I hope this will not pose a problem."

"It does since your sister has promised me five months of her service and you are far too early to collect her." His tone was edged and Evangeline could see the tick in his cheek. He was on the brink of anger and she had to quell the tension quickly.

"I'm sure Como has informed Rui of the nature and terms of our arrangement and just thought it prudent to be here earlier to collect me rather than make me wait." Hearing that Aristotle tightened his hold on her. What had gotten into him? He was acting like a jealous lover. He knew this time was coming. She had to admit she had not been prepared to see her old friend, much less her brother, there to pick her up, but they were there. In all earnestness, she had forgotten about the time, which was strange because with each passing day her heart tightened at the thought of leaving Aristotle.

She had grown accustom to their chats and their lovemaking. He made he feel so beautiful and so cherished even though she knew only lust was in his heart for her. She had tried her hardest to push her feelings away, discount the emotions she felt when he was with her, but now she knew it was a full-blown case of love. How was she going to walk away from him? Now, with her brother's arrival, the final strains of their agreement were coming to an end and she dreaded its coming.

What she hadn't realized was how her words effected Aristotle. His eyes had pinned her to her spot with such an intensity she was speechless. Was that what she really thought? She couldn't wait to leave him. Again, his ire had been piqued over her callousness. This really was just an arrangement for her and nothing more. He envied how she could turn off her emotions so easily. He only wished he could do the same.

With the tension so thick, Jacques quickly stepped up to break the silence. "Monsieur, should I prepare rooms for the two men?"

"No." His curt reply caused Evangeline to gasp slightly.

"Why not?" she demanded, stepping out of his hold.

"I don't think I have to explain. They are not welcome here, but I will make sure that they find adequate lodging - in the city."

"Aris!"

He raised his hand to silence her, cutting off her complaint. "Evangeline, we will discuss this later. Now I will go so you can attend to your guests. When they are ready Jacques will take them to town."

With that he stalked away from the hall leaving a baffled Evangeline.


Aristotle had gone for a horse ride to clear his thoughts. He had been in such a rage since the arrival of both her companion and brother. It was fear that had goaded his reaction to them. He was actually afraid of her leaving. What would life be like without Evangeline? He had grown far too used to her. He hated to admit it but he needed her. But how could he want a woman who refused to return his love? Yes, he had never said the words to her, but she had to know. He recalled all the times he had hinted at her to lengthen their arrangement or how he encouraged her to run her business from here. She would always wave him away with one excuse or another. Her primary issue being that she had her own life back home that she refused to let go. She made it seem he was an inconvenience and a bother.

So, why did he still want her? Any other woman would've been cast aside if she had spurned him as Evangeline did. Because he loved her. He foolishly loved her with every fiber of his body. At any given time, he could conjure her image and his heart would swell, his nose would be filled with her scent and his desire would run rampant. Her name fell so easily from his lips and was the sweetest thing to his ears. How could he convince her to stay when she was set on leaving? He pushed his horse into a full gallop, hoping to find the answer.


Aristotle had not returned home. So, Evangeline had decided to escort Como and Rui to the town to see them settled in. She sat in the open-air coach; her thoughts a jumbled mess. She had tried to be a pleasant hostess but it had been so hard. Why was Aristotle being so difficult?

"What troubles you, Eve?" Rui's hand covering hers had snapped her to the present. "Are you not happy to see us?"

She glanced down, trying to frame her thoughts. "I'm so glad to see you. Both of you, but your early arrival has put a damper on what has been a most pleasant escape."

"I take it things have grown rather comfy between you and Monsieur Beavois?" Como observed.

"Very."

"I noticed it immediately. You look so relaxed. Not a hint of the stress you were experiencing back home. Why, even the mention of Arnoldo's name and the unfortunate circumstance had not set you off in a tizzy."

She smiled at her good friend. "I feel so carefree here, Como. It isn't that I do not miss my life back home. But being here has made me feel a sense of freedom I had never felt before. I've had no worries or concerns. My needs are met."

"He's that good?" Como chuckled, earning a stern glare from Rui and a laugh from Evangeline.

Sobering, she settled back into the coach. "Very much so, but I cannot indulge him. My life is back home and I've been spoiled by this life of widowhood that I couldn't possible give up."

"Would you give up your life, if he asked you?" Rui asked, taking his sister's hand.

Evangeline fell silent. Could she? If Aristotle professed his love for her and asked her to stay and marry him, would she do it? Her heart was yelling its affirmation, but her mind was reluctant to follow suit. It meant giving up everything and past transgressions had proven that giving men control of your heart or your life had dire consequences. With that reminder, she knew what was best.

"I'd consider the offer, but ultimately I think I would decline. Even though I'd be greatly disappointed by my own answer."

"My word, Eve, what are you saying?" Como inquired.

She looked at her long time friend. "I find myself far too enchanted by him. An infatuation that far exceeds the one I had for Anwar. I can be my true self with him, but will that self be acceptable in the long run. Will the novelty wear off and he finally realize I am not worth it? Then where will I be? Trapped here, hopelessly in love, on an island with no one to turn to. No escape route. No, I refuse. Better to remove myself before it gets to be too much."

Como leaned over and covered her hand. "I'm afraid it may already be."

Her tear-rimmed eyes glanced up at her old comrade. "I fear you're right."


After assuring the men were well settled in, Evangeline had returned to the villa and was just now entering the dimly lit foyer. Her heart felt so weighted against her chest; the pressure crushing her sunken spirit. Como, Rui and she had shared a beautiful dinner in Thierry's restaurant, where she was able to discuss the business venture further now that her brother was there. They hatched a business strategy that both parties could agree on. Rui had been in agreement that his assistant would love the opportunity to travel across the Atlantic to manage the affairs for them. Once they returned home they would send him along. Thierry would draw up the paper work with his solicitor and have them sent to Evangeline for her approval. Evangeline was pleased that it had worked out, but her heart had been elsewhere during the negotiation. And now, she stood in the foyer wondering what awaited her.

"Are our intruders settled in?" Evangeline glanced over in the direction of the sneer to see Aristotle leaned casually against the open salon doors swishing a glass of rum in his hand. His linen shirt was unbutton at the neck. If the tension had not been so high at the moment, Evangeline would've run into his arms and undid the remaining ones and had her way with him. He looked like such a rake and she found it sexy.

"They are," was her simple reply as she came forward.

Aristotle could feel the heat surge through the hall. Despite the anger he felt, he wanted Evangeline badly. She looked far too fetching in that outfit. He almost lost his nerve, but he had to remember his plan and stick to it.

"And what will they do while they wait around to collect you?"

Evangeline noted his tone was tinged in ice, aloofness. "I'm sure Rui and Como will keep themselves busy with amusements."

"Just as long as they don't ruin mine." He stated pushing away from the door to re-enter the salon, leaving a baffled and insulted Evangeline.

"What does that mean, Aris?" She entered the room, stopping at the door.

"I thought it was obvious, my dear Eve."

She knew it was obvious, she simply didn't like the way it sounded. So, she's a mere amusement, she pondered. Is that what he thinks? Gathering her wits, she knew she was not in the state to battle it out with him. Her emotions were too heightened and exhausted. She turned and left the room.

Aristotle had not anticipated her refusal to take the bait. He had been sure that she would've engaged him. Evangeline had always been so quick and sharp with her replies. This brought on an inexplicable rage in him. She had walked away, dismissed him. Again! Slamming the glass into the fireplace, he ran after her. Evangeline was half way up the stairs, when he snatched her elbow. She fought to get it back, but was not strong enough to break free.

"Does it sting, Evangeline?" he growled.

"No, Aris. It doesn't," was her emotionless reply. Years of practice had taught her to hide her feelings for moments like this. She refused to let Aristotle see how his words had cut her. However, she didn't realize how much it fueled his anger. "I wasn't the confused one here. I know the nature of our arrangement. Fully understand it. In fact, I engineered its boundaries, if you'll recall. Therefore, I'm not the silly one who broke them."


It was Aristotle's turn to be cut; and it was a deep one. She had placed the blame right at his feet, but, then again, she was right on all counts. He had been the one to foolishly fall in love with her. So much so, he couldn't see straight. She had been the consummate professional.

Without a word, he dragged her up the remaining stairs. Evangeline struggled against his grip. "What are you doing?"

"Come, come, Eve, you of all people know where we are at this hour," he sneered without so much as a glance back.

They were usually nestled on the veranda watching the last of the light fade into the night. It was the part of the day she loved best, aside from the lovemaking afterwards. His arms wrapped about her. Their breathing in perfect sync. Anticipation fluttering. He couldn't be suggesting they continue as usual when at the moment it was clear they could not stand one another.

"I suggest we postpone."

He swung her about to face him. His eyes were alight with fury, the bitter opposite to his saccharine tone. "Why, Evangeline? It's merely par for the course, part of the deal. Keep the silly customer happy-"

He didn't expect her hand to sting his cheek. His face had not flinched under the impact and Evangeline refused to show how much her hand smarted from the force of the slap. Despite his dark skin, she could make out the faint imprint lines that her fingers had made in his cheek. Silence resounded through the hall as they just glared at each other, anger and hurt coursing violently in their veins.  It was all too overwhelming. Aristotle wanted to throttle her, but he couldn't. Evangeline wanted to rip his heart out and stomp it like he had done to hers, but she couldn't. Not without feeling the repercussions. In a silent truce, they both stepped back from one another, uncertain. Without another word, they turned their backs on each other and walked away. Sadly, this was only the quiet before the storm.


Days later, Aristotle sat in his study staring out the rainy window at nothing in particular. Rivulets squiggled against the pane as three empty rum bottles lay strewn across his desk. Since that night, he had not seen or heard Evangeline. She was up before he was and out of the house most of the day. The whole house was sullen. The servants avoided him at all cost unless summoned to fetch him a new bottle of rum or whiskey. Jacques had tried to get him out of his mood by suggesting he see Jean, but he refused and had ousted the man from his study.

He was inconsolable in his melancholy. All he wanted to do was make love to his Evangeline, not war with her. It was his hurt pride that had made him say all those awful things; his fear of her leaving him. But he was spiting himself by not cherishing the last moments he had with her. But he had his pride and would not fall prey to a heartless woman. The sound of the door closing caught his attention. Rising from his chair, he made his way toward the sound.  He peered around the corner and saw who had come in. His heart stopped.

She looked ravishing, despite being soaked to the bone. Her unbound hair was dripping wet and her clothes were plastered to her curvy frame. Had she not realized a storm was coming? His body began to betray him. It had been too long since last he had loved her, touched her. He needed her to assuage this awful pain.

"Madame Evangeline!" Jacques scolded.

"I am awfully sorry, Jacques. It seems I had not been paying attention and had left without a parasol or hat. Had I known this storm had been brewing I would've stayed in."

"I will have Francois send up a soup for you."

"Thank you." She mounted the stairs to her room as Jacques left for the kitchen.

Aristotle entered the foyer then glanced up the stairs she had just vacated. He couldn't possibly think to follow her? Was he insane? Yet, there he was following suit after the woman. It was like he was fighting his conscious. His feet were slow to move, dragged along the carpet behind the wet barefoot marks she had left. He stood before her door now, his breath hastening at the anticipation of feeling her. Trying the door, he was relieved to find it unlocked. Pushing it ajar, he glanced about looking for his quarry. When he located her, his heart stilled for the second time in his chest.

She had already stripped out of her clothes and was standing before the mirror, giving him a dual view of her back and her front. She was beautiful. Her breasts fuller than usual sat temptingly on her chest, accentuating the swell of her hips and backside. Her skin and hair looked softer, silkier. He itched to touch them both; to feel his hand glide over their richness. He pushed the door further and stepped in. She had not heard his approach, was lost in her own thoughts.

Suddenly, she whipped around and met his intense gaze. He looked terrible, haggard; the image of her insides. She was certain their were bags under her eyes; her concealing powder was sure to have been washed away by the storm. No words exchanged between them. They simply stared at one another; unspoken feelings transferring in the space between them. Then it hit like a match strike. Aristotle wrapped his arms about her waist and drew her to him. His lips claiming hers, devouring them like a starving man.

Evangeline was caught up in the feelings that surrounded her. She had missed him; his body. She had contemplated going to his room last night but had chastised herself for the thought. Even now, she was disappointed in herself for relenting to him, for being tempted into a tryst. If an amusement was all he wanted then he could take it and be done with it.

Aristotle began to venture down her neck leaving hot trails of passion in his wake. She fought hard against her feelings and the tingles forming on her body. The sensations had been missed terribly these last days. Her traitorous body wanted him, proven more so by the pooling in her inner thighs. As if scorched, she gasped when his hot lips encircled a tender nipple and began to suckle. The fire spread from there as he pushed her back onto the bed. His hands laced with hers drawing them above her head. His body rubbed hers, causing a delicious friction all over her. He let go for a moment to shed his clothing, tossing them every which way.

He returned to her lips nibbling their softness, drawing Evangeline further into the spell. "Oh, Eve, I've needed you," he admitted.

Hearing those words pricked at her heart, because it was his fault. He was the one who had denied them both. Suddenly, the anger crawled in to quell her passion. "It's not I that kept you from your - amusements."

Her words, more like his own, stilled him. It was a bitter taste of his own folly that choked him. Once again, her knife had jabbed deep and turned for good measure into his heart. He raised up on his elbows to stare down at her, meeting that cool arrogance he so hated. It was chilling and, instead of deflating his desire, it enraged it. Evangeline felt him stab her core mercilessly with his manhood, but she hadn't flinched, merely excepted it. Like swords drawn against one another, in and out, he rammed his angry organ into her. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react. They just stared at one another coldly. Neither one gave an inch.

The minutes ticked away before finally a disgusted Aristotle rolled away from her. In a flash, he had gotten up, swooped up his clothes and left, slamming the door for good measure. Evangeline just stared up at the netting on her bed. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes pensive. It wasn't long before she regained feeling again. Finally, the pain bubbled to the surface breaking the iciness of her face with tears. Rolling onto her side, she cried herself to sleep. What had she done?