Fever Dreams

by Nicole Jordan

  “And you are telling me all this because…?”

  Taking a deep breath, Claire gazed intently up at him. “Because I felt I had to offer you a warning, Sir Alex. If you mean to court Eve, you must approach it subtly. Telling her she is the bride you want is the surest way to frighten her away.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart,” he said after a moment, neither confirming or denying her supposition. “I will keep your warning in mind.”

  Claire hesitated, clearly wanting to say more. “I just wished you to see why the very thought of another marriage is so distasteful to Eve. That’s also why she has devoted herself to matchmaking…so other young women don’t end up in her situation, in a repugnant marriage of convenience. Especially me. Eve is determined that I find a suitor who will make me happy because she was not able to find happiness. The real point, however, is that it will not be easy to persuade her to give up her independence, now that she finally has some measure of it. In marriage, husbands have all the power, and Eve will never subject herself to that powerless state again.”

  “I see,” Ryder said quietly.

  “Do you see, Sir Alex? Then perhaps you understand why I suggested that you ask Eve to help you find a suitable match.”

  “You were actually serious about that?”

  “Yes, I truly do believe it your best option. If Eve makes it her mission to find you a bride, she won’t be able to avoid you. And you will become her pet project—so you won’t be so threatening to her.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “You think I threaten her?”

  A sheepish dimple appeared in Claire’s cheek. “Well, you must admit you are very…forceful. And accustomed to having your own way. You would never be as domineering as Lord Hayden was, but Eve is too skittish even to give you a chance to prove it.”

  Ryder felt his mouth twist in a dry smile, though he felt little amusement.

  “You must allow Eve time to know you better,” Claire went on. “I’m certain she will come to care for you as Cecil and I do, but she needs time.”

  Sweeping off his tall beaver hat, Ryder raked a hand through his hair in frustration. “So you want me to play games with Eve,” he stated finally.

  “I don’t see any other way. She would never allow you close enough to court her otherwise.”

  Ryder felt his fists clench as he stared off at the distance.

  “Well,” Claire said, interrupting his dark thoughts. “I had best return inside, or everyone will wonder where I have gone. But please…promise me you will at least think about it, Sir Alex.”

  “I will, sweeting.” He made himself look at Claire. “And I do appreciate your warning.”

  With an uncertain smile, she opened the door and disappeared inside the house, leaving Ryder standing there on the front steps, silently cursing the fact that all his carefully calculated plans had just gone completely to hell.

  His frustration was still simmering by the time he reached his bedchamber to change out of his tea-stained breeches.

  He sure as the devil hadn’t counted on this unexpected setback. Not after plotting his strategy with the care of a military campaign.

  For nearly a year now, he’d bided his time, waiting to begin his courtship until Eve was out of mourning. Then finally in March he’d come to London for the express purpose of wooing her.

  He had spent the past month reconnoitering and laying the foundations for his entry into the ton, setting himself up for the leisurely life of a gentleman. He’d hired a house directly across from hers, even though he didn’t need such luxury or extravagance.

  Hell, Ryder thought crossly as he tugged off his expensive, highly polished boots and damp breeches, he’d grown up in a three-room cottage, and he was accustomed to bivouacking in barns and barracks and open fields. But this exorbitant mansion offered close proximity to Eve.

  Yet now all his best-laid plans had been thwarted. The only woman he had ever wanted to wed was resolved on remaining husbandless.

  Ryder cursed softly. Somehow he would have to change Eve’s mind.

  He knew he intrigued her; all his male instincts told him so. This morning she’d done her damnedest to appear unaffected, but the lady had been as intensely aware of him as he was of her. Yet that was a far cry from accepting his marriage proposal.

  And if Claire was correct about Eve seeing him as a threat…

  His manservant, Greeves, entered just then. “You rang for me, sir?”

  “Yes.” Ryder indicated the stained breeches he had tossed on a chair. “I suffered an unfortunate accident with a teacup.”

  “I will have these cleaned and pressed, sir,” Greeves said, picking up the breeches and taking them away.

  Alone once more, Ryder finished dressing in fresh pantaloons and went to stand before the cheval glass. Instinctively he knew Claire was right. He couldn’t show his hand by baldly declaring his matrimonial intentions to Eve or risk driving her away with an open chase. Instead, he would have to change tactics.

  Very well, Ryder decided, turning to purposefully stride out of his bedchamber. He would ask Eve’s help in finding him a suitable match, for it would give them time to become more intimately acquainted. Although it bothered him to conduct his courtship clandestinely, he would cloak his pursuit in the trappings of proper convention, claiming that he was searching for a wife. It was the utter truth, even if Eve was the only wife he would ever want.

  Asking her help in finding him a bride from among the haut ton would provide him with a valid reason to be in her company so he could woo her without raising all her defenses.

  And the resumption of a simple friendship between them was a good start. If it made Eve feel safer, he would treat her with the same brotherly affection he lavished on the twins.

  Even if you feel not at all brotherly toward her.

  Ryder let out a harsh chuckle at that vast understatement as he bounded down the sweeping staircase of his new mansion. Eve was a hundred times more vibrant in real life than in his dreams. He could see why she was sought after now by any number of gentlemen. A beautiful, wealthy, noble widow would be an alluring matrimonial prize.

  But he intended to be the winner. He would pay any price to possess her. Make any sacrifice.

  His jaw hardening with determination, Ryder headed for his front door, intending to cross the street again and pay another call on Eve.

  Now he just bloody well hoped he could marshal his acting talents enough to hide how he felt for her for the duration of his secret courtship.

  To Eve’s gratification, she was able to receive Ryder with much less sensation this time. When he was announced, she rose calmly from her writing desk, refusing to be as flummoxed as she’d been during his first call, even though she was again alone in the morning room.

  “Sir Alex,” she said politely. “I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

  He waited until her butler had withdrawn before saying, “I’ve thought about your offer, Countess, and I would like to take you up on it.”

  “My offer?”

  “I want your assistance in finding me a suitable bride.”

  A ripple of surprise ran through Eve. She had made no such offer; the idea had been solely her sister’s. But Ryder did not appear to be jesting, Eve noted as he steadily returned her searching regard.

  Warily moving to the sitting area, she offered him a seat. When he resumed his place on the sofa, Eve settled in the armchair across from him, a safe distance away. “Perhaps you should tell me what sort of assistance you had in mind.”

  With a casual nod, Ryder relaxed against the sofa, stretching his muscular arms out along the high back. “I’m interested in making a marriage of convenience to match my new station. I want to become better accepted by society, and I believe the right wife will aid me.”

  When Eve frowned, he asked with a half smile, “What, you don’t think I can find a genteel lady to be my wife?”

  “No, I am merely surprised that you would even wish one. You are the la
st man I would expect to seek a society marriage.”

  “At my age, it’s time I considered settling down and setting up my nursery.”

  Eve felt her frown deepen at the thought of Ryder’s actually settling down…and the more startling concept of his siring children and raising a family. She just couldn’t picture it. Nor could she immediately picture the sort of bride who would appeal to him and make him happy.

  Still, that didn’t explain her instinctive resistance to the idea of Ryder taking a wife.

  “I realize,” he continued, “how much I could benefit from your aid. My chances of acceptance would increase significantly if someone of your station were to sponsor me—a wealthy lady of rank who moves in the highest circles. You are quite popular with the haut ton. If you were willing, you could ease my way into your set—introduce me to the right people, help me garner invitations to functions where I could meet suitable marital candidates. That sort of assistance.”

  Eve hesitated to reply, wondering why she felt so discomfited at the thought of helping Ryder. Possibly because if she was to do as he asked—aid his entree into society and assist his search for a bride—she would be in his company far more than was wise.

  Yet he was asking very little of her, after all. And he had been such a stalwart champion of the twins all these years that she owed him her allegiance. Of course, Drucilla and Beatrice might raise objections.

  “I suppose I could try,” Eve said slowly, thinking ahead to how she could circumvent their opposition.

  “If it is too much trouble—”

  “No, it isn’t that.” She would be attending countless entertainments and functions in her role as Claire’s sponsor, so it would not be much trouble to include Ryder in their plans. “I was merely considering how I could best handle the aunts.”

  The corner of Ryder’s mouth curved mockingly. “They won’t approve of your having anything to do with me.”

  Eve couldn’t help but laugh at that understatement. “True. But then I don’t permit them to rule my life or attempt to rule theirs. We rub along well enough—and this will be no exception.”

  “You would have my profound gratitude,” he said lightly.

  Still contemplating, she gave an absent nod. There would be other advantages to helping Ryder that weren’t apparent at first glance. For one thing, her sister was more comfortable in his company than in any other gentleman’s. And he could provide a male escort when needed. As long as the aunts didn’t refuse altogether to participate if Ryder joined their party…. But she would persuade them, Eve pledged to herself.

  “I might be able to help you,” she replied finally. “Didn’t you say this morning that you have a candidate in mind? Who is the lady?”

  Ryder shrugged his broad shoulders. “No one in particular. I expect most any well-bred woman will do.”

  Eve winced at that. “No, it will not do, Sir Alex. If you must enter into a union of convenience, there is no reason you shouldn’t try to make the most harmonious one possible. You don’t want to be miserable for the next thirty or forty years of your life, do you?”

  “No, certainly I don’t,” he agreed, obviously amused.

  “As I told you earlier, I try to pair couples who have something in common, but…”

  “But what?”

  She eyed him thoughtfully. “I expect it will be something of a challenge to find you a suitable mate.”

  His eyebrow rose. “Why?”

  “You have a rather…forceful personality. You will be difficult to match with the young ladies on the marriage mart today.”

  “You mean that young ladies want a tame lapdog for a husband.” Ryder was watching her with that laughing gleam in his eye. “I can play the role of tame lapdog if I put my mind to it.”

  Tame? Ryder? Her glance turned dubious as it moved over his lean, handsome face, then lower, over his lean, powerful body. That last summer together, she had once spied him without his shirt, and a vision of Ryder as he’d looked then, all corded muscles and bronze bare chest, came to her unbidden.

  Feeling her pulse quicken again in a deplorably wild rhythm, Eve forced her gaze back up his face. She doubted Ryder could ever be the least bit tame. Even relaxed, he seemed dangerous, with his smoldering eyes and air of barely leashed male energy.

  “I would never liken you to a lapdog,” she said wryly. “You are more like a tiger, and possibly just as dangerous. Some young ladies will find you fascinating, no doubt, just as they would any exotic species. But unfortunately, I expect more will be a bit afraid of you.”

  His expression sobered. “Is that how you see me, Countess? As someone to fear?”

  Eve paused. “Not fear, exactly—because I have a long acquaintance with you. In any event, it doesn’t matter how I see you. What matters is how you appear to your prospective brides. You will have to tone down the intensity of your manner if you don’t want to frighten them away.”

  “I can manage that. I will be the soul of amiability.”

  “Amiability is an estimable quality in a husband,” Eve said, smothering a smile. “But you must be willing to conform to society’s expectations of a gentleman as well.”

  “Of course. I have already made a concerted effort on that front.”

  “And you will have to do everything I tell you to, Sir Alex.”

  “If I do, will you take on my case?”

  “Well…” Eve hedged.

  “You are up to the challenge, aren’t you, sweeting? I should imagine it would be a matter of pride, seeing if you can arrange a successful marriage for me. Think what satisfaction you would derive if you were able to find me the perfect mate.”

  At his deliberate provocation, Eve felt another twinge of exasperation, even as she wondered what sort of woman would make Ryder the perfect mate. He had once proposed to her, although he hadn’t actually meant it. Would he want someone like her for his bride? But she was confident in her own matchmaking abilities.

  “Yes, I am up to the challenge,” Eve responded archly. “But in return I expect strict obedience from you.”

  “Very well. I swear to obey your every word.” The dancing light returned to his eyes. “Shall we draw up a formal contract?”

  “That won’t be necessary. As long as you heed my advice, I promise to do my best to find you a bride.”

  “Good,” Ryder said with satisfaction. “Then it is settled.” As if unwilling to let her change her mind, he rose to his feet.

  Following suit, Eve suddenly shook her head, amazed that she had just agreed to introduce Ryder to society and, more astonishingly, to help him achieve a good match. But she couldn’t back out now. “I will see what arrangements I can make and keep you informed.”

  “Thank you, Countess.” He stepped forward to take her hand.

  There was nothing in his action she could take exception to, yet her heart suddenly began beating much faster, and it was all she could do to keep from retreating. The mere feel of Ryder’s strong, warm hand around hers unsettled her. He was so very male. Eve was keenly aware of him, of his heat, his masculine scent, the dark intensity of his eyes.

  For a lingering moment, those eyes rested on her face with a dangerous intimacy. Eve felt her stomach tighten, a natural reaction to being this close to Ryder. She had a sudden memory of his hard body stretched full length over hers—

  With a reflexive shiver, she slid her hand from his grasp and moved to ring for her butler.

  “Do you still mean to take the twins to see London tomorrow?” she asked Ryder, striving for a light tone.

  “Yes, I am looking forward to our outing. Tell them I will call at eleven in the morning and we will make a day of it.”

  To her relief, Dunstan appeared just then, carrying a large wicker basket. “These are the foodstuffs Cook prepared for Sir Alex, my lady.”

  Eve nodded before addressing Ryder. “Would you care to take the basket with you, or would you prefer I have it delivered by a servant?”

  Ryder’s mou
th curved in a grin. “Oh, take it with me, most definitely. I wouldn’t want my scones to grow cold.”

  Eve drew a sharp breath at his infectious smile, holding it in her lungs as Ryder politely took his leave and followed Dunstan from the room.

  She stood waiting a moment longer, listening for his departure from her house. When eventually she heard the front door shut, Eve slowly let out her breath, yet she chastised herself as she returned to her writing desk.

  The way Ryder’s simple nearness affected her was absurd. There was no reason at all for him to unsettle her, since he seemed content to treat her merely as an old friend, just as she’d asked.

  Yet dismayingly, being alone with Ryder had stirred long-buried, decidedly dangerous feelings for him. She found herself unnerved not only by his smoldering intensity but also by her own powerful attraction to him.

  Amazing, considering that she had never felt a remotely similar attraction to any other man, including her husband. Particularly her husband.

  It was inexplicable that she would feel physical longing for Ryder. She was no longer a green girl, as she’d been that summer. She understood precisely what occurred between a man and a woman when they made love, and she had no desire ever to repeat the experience. For her, the marriage bed had been not only unpleasant but painful.

  Just as inexplicable was the vague discontent she felt. She didn’t regret agreeing to help Ryder find a suitable bride. Yet if she was entirely honest, she would admit to being strangely disappointed that he had no interest in pursuing her.

  Utterly ridiculous. It was mere vanity on her part, of course. She absolutely did not want Ryder considering her a candidate in his search for a bride.

  She would never again enter into the loathsome state of matrimony. She’d been utterly miserable as Richard’s prize possession, living under his dictatorial thumb, more chattel than partner.