Chapter 174

#Chapter 174 – Tea Time A few hours later, Evelyn and Ian are seated in front of the fire in the parlor, apparently having a perfectly pleasant, if perfectly quiet, day. She sits on a chaise lounge close to the warmth, quietly peeling an orange and looking at a home and garden magazine.

Ian, on the floor, works to put together a children’s puzzle. Once, just once, he looks up at his mom, his face a little pained.

She gives him a wink and a little smile, letting him know that she knows he’s bored. But still, they have roles to play. He sighs and turns back to his boring puzzle, wishing he was doing anything else.

As she waits for the next shoe to drop, Evelyn patiently mulls over the information that Ian gave her.

What the hell was Victor even doing?

It was clear, from what Ian had said, that Victor had somehow decided that now was the time to move on Willard and Walsh, to declare official war against them and take it to the battlefield.

But why now? She grits her teeth silently, frustrated. His little plan for pack dominance actually conflicted with her own. It had been her plan – and Emma’s and Delia’s, of course – to move today to take over the Walsh pack.

But nooooo. Victor had to interfere.

She supposed, ultimately, that she didn’t care who deposed her father and Joyce – as long as they were deposed. Still, things were changing – Victor’s choice had changed things. She had to get in touch with Emma and Delia to let them know that the situation had changed, if not the plan itself.

And, she had to get in touch with Victor too, to let him know that if he’s going to move now, then he needs to move now. The one piece of the puzzle that Victor doesn’t know is his extreme advantage in this moment, when Joyce was out of the picture.

If he waited – even a few days – he could lose that advantage. Evelyn sincerely hoped he didn’t – the fact that Joyce was still missing meant that Delia and Emma had him trapped. But Joyce was wily –

there was no guarantee that they could keep him trapped for long.

Still, to get these messages out without risking her father suspecting it was her that did it? Their timing had to be perfect. So, she and Ian would wait.

As she finishes peeling her orange, Evelyn considers her son, playing with the puzzle on the floor. It’s far too easy for him – he’s taken it apart and put it together about three times – but he’s being such a good sport. She can’t help smiling at him then, her little sneaky squirrel.

She pops a slice of orange in her mouth, considering their choices. It was a sticky situation into which they’d gotten themselves – an unexpected battle was coming, and it looks like they were going to be at the middle of it, which is precisely where she did not want her child to be.

But still, this was his pack. Or, at least, it would be, one day. If there was going to be a fight for its future, then perhaps his place was right here at the center of everything. And then her place was right next to him, helping him to sort through it all.

She sighs, wondering if Victor made the same choice with Alvin, keeping him by his side. Alvin would be terribly jealous if Ian got to go to war and he had been required to stay home.

The door opens, then, and a maid wheels in a tea trolly.

“Oh,” Evelyn says, raising her eyebrows. “Did we order tea?”

“No, ma’am,” the maid says, shooting her an apologetic look. “Your father asked that this be set up in here.”

“Of course,” Evelyn murmurs, sitting up straighter and shooting Ian a little smile. He flashes her a grin, excited. She had told him, earlier in the day, that if they just waited patiently, Walsh and Willard would come to them.

And, as predicted, they walk right in the door.

“Evelyn,” her father says casually, shooting her a glance. “I didn’t know you were in here. You may join us for tea, of course.” The two men settle themselves in a pair of arm chairs across the room, a small table between them.

“Oh, thank you,” Evelyn says quietly, though inside she hisses liar. He knew exactly where they were, had the tea sent in here just so he could come in and pick their brains. “We’d love to join.”

“Are there any donuts?” Ian asks, dashing over to the cart to look.

“No,” Walsh says, frowning at the boy. “This is a classic English high tea. There aren’t any donuts.”

“Bummer,” Ian says, eyeing the crisp little biscuits with disappointment.

Walsh ignores him and pours the tea for three. Ian opens his mouth to protest that he’d like to try a cup but Evelyn shoots him a look and he shuts it.

“Now, Evelyn,” Walsh says, putting the teapot back in its spot. “Why don’t you tell us why you’re really here.”

Evelyn blinks in pretend surprise, leaning back against the cushions of her chair. “I don’t know what you mean, dad,” she says. “I’m here because –“

“Yes, yes, we know your story,” Walsh says, his voice low. “Abuse, seeking safe haven. It’s just all a little convenient that you arrive just as Victor decides to mobilize an attack against us.”

Evelyn gasps, enjoying the performance perhaps a little too much. “He’s what!?”

“D-daddy’s coming?” Ian says, infusing his voice with fear and cowering away from the tea tray. They had decided, earlier, in the room, to stick to their original story: that Victor was cruel to them and that they had come to the Walsh home seeking sanctuary.

Walsh and Willard glare at them both.

“Cut it,” Walsh says. “It’s all too neat. We know you’re up to something, Evelyn.”

“Have you considered, dad,” Evelyn says, getting quietly to her feet and wandering over to the tea tray to claim her cup. Pouring in a little milk, she then settles herself on the ottoman at her father’s feet.

“Have you considered that I have nothing to do with it? That he’s coming like he did last time, to steal me back?”

Her father says nothing, studying her. Willard, however, is less patient.

“Tell us where Joyce is,” he barks. “We know that you’ve had something to do with it –“

But before he can say anything else, Walsh gives him a look and he silences himself.

Evelyn peers demurely down at her tea. “I didn’t know that Joyce was missing,” she said. “Though I admit, I can’t consider it much of a loss.”

Willard opens his mouth to snap at her again, but Walsh interrupts.

“Your sister, Evelyn,” Walsh says quietly. “Do you have any information on her location?”

She blinks up at her father in surprise. “Mom said she was on vacation. Is she missing too?”

Walsh says nothing, just peers at Willard, who scowls at him. Apparently, they were getting less from her than they wanted. But she was getting much, much more. At least now, so late in the afternoon, if Joyce was still missing then she knew that Victor still had a shot. And that he had to move now.

Evelyn works hard to hide her satisfied smirk.

“Dad,” she says, looking up at her father. “If you wanted me to go and talk to Victor, I’d…well, I’d do that for you,” she says quietly. She looks down at the floor tremblingly, as if it would be a horrible sacrifice. “I mean, on the battlefield. If you needed someone to negotiate. I would…well. For you, dad. I’d do it.”

Walsh takes the bait, growling in anger. “What,” he spits. “And just let you walk directly into his arms?!

With whatever information or prizes you’ve gleaned from this house?!”

Walsh slams his teacup down on the table, rising to his feet.

“You’ve pushed me far enough, Evelyn,” he says, his voice harsh. “That’s it.” He calls out the door for his Betas to enter.

“What?” Evelyn says, rising with him as four Betas come into the room. “What did I do – I was just offering to help –“

They seize her by the arms, and Ian covers his face in apparent shock and dismay.

“After all,” she says, looking at Ian pointedly. “It’s not like I have any way to communicate with Victor. To let him know that you know he’s coming.”