Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

  “I hear you have been seen with a very respectable lady since coming to London.”

  “Who told you this?”

  Thomas’s brows knitted. “Who knows? I was a little tipsy. One too many gins. But it was said the wife of an important man was seen leaving your house only two days ago. Bit quick, Evan, seeing as you’d only just returned from the lovely Miss Claremont’s arms.”

  “Damnation.” He gripped his glass until the crystal dug into his palms. “Did anyone name the woman?”

  “No. It was probably servant’s gossip and you know how they are. One can never quite understand who or what they are talking about. But, I must say, it is unfair on Miss Claremont. I am sure you have offered her no promises but, damn, you only have her for a year. Could you not remain faithful to her for so short a time?”

  Scowling, Evan eyed his brother. Thomas lecturing him on how to treat a woman? His brother really must have been quite taken with Lilly to be counselling him on staying faithful to his mistress. As it was, he had no intention of straying into the arms of any other woman. If he was to burn though this attraction, he needed to devote any spare time he had to indulging in his desires with her. Maybe then he would be free of the frustrating distraction that was Lilly.

  But his biggest concern was that someone had spotted Eleanor leaving his house. Would that put her in danger? Higgins had already dredged up a man to keep an eye on her. He was a brutish sort who would step in if needs be but there was only so much one could do when on the outside. Evan prayed she would remain safe until the chance came for him to help her escape her husband.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lilly waited until the entire household was asleep. It wasn’t all that late—a little grey light still seeped through the windows so she didn’t need a candle to tiptoe out of bed and downstairs to the study. For the entire week, she had been trying to figure out a way to sneak into the locked room. After pressing the servants for information, it seemed Mrs. Hargreaves was the only one with a key to Evan’s study and she guarded it carefully.

  The woman treated Lilly well and deferred to her for household decisions now, but there was a caution to her behavior with Lilly. She didn’t blame her. After all, she was unknown and a mistress. Neither of those qualities endeared her to the woman but Lilly hoped with time they would overcome that.

  She cradled the key in one hand and eased open the bedroom door. Shadows haunted the passageway. Swaying trees outside cast eerie patterns through the window. Lilly’s mouth dried and her heart jolted. Perhaps she should forget this folly and return to bed?

  But what if proof of Evan’s dealings with her father were in that study? Doubt lingered in the back of her mind. He had said nothing of pressuring the police to look into her father’s death, and she needed to know for certain—to have solid proof of his innocence. A steady ache of loneliness had consumed her this past week, all because of that frustrating man. It seemed foolish to even consider he might still be guilty of contracting a killer, but her common sense warned her not to be fooled.

  The carpet gave way under her toes and a slight breeze tickled her legs under her chemise as she scurried along the passageway and down the stairs. The study sat at the rear of the cottage, overlooking the pretty country garden. Making her way through the drawing room, she barely stifled a cry when she stubbed her bare toe on a chair leg. Lilly paused and listened, but only the hooting of an owl and a tick of the grandfather clock accompanied her. The household remained asleep.

  Hopefully no one would awake and believe her to be an intruder. Who knew what might happen or how Evan would react if he found out she had been looking at his personal papers.

  Lilly came to the door of the study and paused, hands to the wood. What if Evan had really had a hand in her father’s death? What then? She hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Maybe because, deep down, she felt certain he had not. Or perhaps their brief moments together had addled her mind and clouded her judgement. For certain, she missed his lovemaking and gruff company, though Lord only knew why. The lovemaking was unlike anything she had ever experienced, but how did that make up for his terrible temperament? She was not so different to her mother it seemed.

  Sliding the key into the lock, Lilly glanced around the dark cottage again and turned it. She winced at the sound of sliding metal and the creak of the door when she pushed it open. Guilt pricked her mind. It had to be done though. Why keep your study locked in a house full of trusted servants unless you have some sort of underhanded dealings? Mrs. Hargreaves had informed her that Lord Hawksley often came to Rushbourne to work on his estate affairs and business dealings. There had to be some source of information in here.

  She slipped into the room, leaving the door ajar so as not to make any more noise. If Mrs. Hargreaves discovered Lilly had stolen the study key from under her nose—literally as the woman had been preoccupied with scolding the gardener at the time—there would be hell to pay. The housekeeper’s loyalty remained with her master and while that was admirable, it put Lilly at a disadvantage. The woman refused to confide in her in spite of all her attempts at creating a bond. The other servants were not so closemouthed but to Lilly’s frustration, their words were only complimentary toward their master and none hinted at any sort of illegal behavior.

  Either it was the truth or Evan was adept at deception, for even she struggled to keep up any kind of conviction that he might have done something to her father.

  Lilly took a moment to find her bearings. The heavy drapes remained open, tied back by the same thick silk ropes that the curtains in the drawing room were. Several bookcases lined one wall and a large mahogany desk sat in front of the long window. On the other wall, a portrait of a handsome man sat in a gilded frame. Even in the low light, she saw the similarity to Evan. The last marquess, she suspected. Evan spoke little of his family aside from Thomas, and it seemed there was no affection toward his parents. Lilly couldn’t fathom that. In spite of their failings and her frustration at their selfish behavior, she loved her mother and father very much. An ache threatened to close her throat. She shook her head and moved around the desk. She seldom allowed herself to think about how alone she was now and this was certainly not the time.

  Rifling through the desk drawers, her frustration mounted when all she found was invoices and bank statements. The marquess was rich indeed, again provoking her to wonder why he might want revenge on her father for the unpaid debt. Lord Hawksley, it seemed, seldom gambled away his money like many men of his rank and handled his finances carefully. After managing her mother’s house for several years, Lilly recognized Evan to be a cautious, reliable investor, rarely taking risks, going against her initial impression.

  She shoved the various folders back and debated his desk. A sheaf of letters sat under a paperweight and she dug through them, dismissing any from a Mr. Letts who appeared to be the Hawksley estate manager. The urgency of one shoved to the bottom caught her eye. The writing showed haste, being almost illegible and presumably from someone who had not been schooled in the art of penmanship. The name at the bottom was a Mrs. Mary Wilson. Lilly searched her memory for such a name but came up with nothing. In the poor light of the window, the words were hard to make out but the letter spoke of Evan needing to come to London promptly.

  “Interesting reading?”

  Lilly jerked her head up. “Evan!” She shoved the letter on the desk behind her and straightened. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is my home.” A brow rose.

  Having discarded his jacket somewhere, his necktie hung loosely around his collar and the first few buttons on his shirt were undone. That familiar pang of need rolled through her at the sight of a little taut flesh. With his mussed hair and lazy smile, he reminded her of how he looked after their lovemaking.

  “I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow.” She clasped her hands together and eyed him warily.

  “I caught the late train and walked from the station.” He stepped fully into the ro
om and shut the door.

  “Walked? But it’s two miles at least.”

  “It is.” Evan closed the gap between them until they were only a pace apart. “But I found myself eager to come back.”

  “Why?” His close proximity forced her to crane her neck. Lilly swallowed as he searched her gaze and yet again she found him unreadable.

  His expression shuttered and she noted a brief stiffening of his body but he remained close. “What are you doing in here? I keep it locked for a reason.”

  She licked her lips. “Forgive me, I was… bored. I wanted to read.”

  Evan turned his head to stare at the bookshelves as if he had never seen them before. “Of course. I should have given you a key. Forgive me, Lilly. I forget we don’t have a vast library here and I seldom use this house for leisure. I hope you have not been too bored.”

  “Not really. Mrs. Hargreaves and I have spent most of our time organizing how the house shall be run while I am here, and I’ve explored most of the woods.”

  “Your time was better spent than mine then.”

  “Was your business very urgent?”

  His gaze flicked to the desk and then narrowed on her. “You are inquisitive for a woman. Why should my business be of interest to you?”

  Tightness coiled in her stomach. He had no doubt seen her reading his private letters but did he put that down to her being bored or something else? She placed her hands on his shoulders and offered up the most seductive smile she could summon.

  “Because I am your mistress. It is down to me to soothe away your concerns.” Lilly kept her voice low, quite unable to believe how easily it came to her. She had never once played the seductress but it felt natural with Evan. Perhaps it was because a desperate ache had started to build inside her and she realized just how much she had missed him. Palms on his chest, she skimmed them down, relished the hardness there and glided them back up. His heart thudded, sure and steady against her palm.

  “How do you intend to do that?” he asked, voice gritty. His eyes had darkened and, even in the meagre light, she saw his desire.

  Feminine power emboldened her. He needed her and he had rushed to be back with her. This implacable, powerful man wanted her—a plain, illegitimate woman of no consequence. Lilly took that one step forward—the one that would bring them together—and slipped her arms around his neck.

  “I can soothe you in many ways, Evan,” she whispered, moving onto tiptoes to nip his neck.

  His hands came around her waist and through the thin linen, the heat of them sent tremors down her spine. Under his large palms, she felt delicate and feminine. Under his heated gaze she felt strong and powerful.

  “I’ve only been gone a week and here I find my mistress has become a seductress. What has wrought such a change?”

  She tried not to flinch at the word mistress. It was bad enough saying it herself, but to hear him refer to her as such stung, even as she chided herself for foolishness. After all, that was all she was.

  “I missed you,” she admitted.

  A hand left her waist and came up to cup her face. Unable to prevent herself, she nuzzled into his palm. One strong thumb rubbed across her cheek.

  “I missed you too, though Lord knows, I don’t know why. You are one of the most aggravating women I have ever met.”

  Lilly failed to be offended by his words, not when he had admitted to missing her. Something warm and tender resided in her chest and blossomed through her body. “Show me how much you missed me.”

  “Here?”

  Lilly glanced at the door and considered the servants. They were all long asleep. There would be no interruptions and the thought of traipsing through the house to her bedroom did not appeal. She needed Evan here. Now.

  “Yes, here.”

  A deep, animalistic sound rose from his throat and sent thrills skittering through her. One hand on her rear, the other slipping beneath her hair, he pulled her into him. She gasped when she found herself pressed against him and he took the chance to kiss her deeply. Lord, she had missed the taste of him, the feel of him. Fingers twining in his hair, she kissed him back just as frantically and he groaned in appreciation, bringing his other hand to clutch her backside and hold her against his growing hardness.

  She ended up backed against the desk, the wood digging into her buttocks. Evan tore himself away. “I will not take you on a desk like a barbarian again.”

  Lilly giggled. “You are not a barbarian.”

  “Still…”

  Swinging her gaze around, she settled it on the Oriental rug by the fire. It didn’t look particularly plush, but it would do. “The rug,” she said breathlessly, aware of every inch of his body molded to hers.

  “Yes, that will do.”

  She laughed again as he dragged her over and urged her down. With no drawers on, she felt scandalously exposed, even with her long chemise. It tangled around her thighs and Evan’s eyes gleamed, highlighted by the moon that had taken the place of the dusky evening light and now dappled across them both through the tall window.

  Lilly lay back and felt the press of the rug against her skin. Evan came to rest next to her, skimmed a finger down her side and rested himself on one elbow to view her. Lilly gazed up at his dark hair, severe brow and intense eyes and sighed. It reminded her of the first time he had taken her, yet no trembling limbs or churning stomach plagued her now. The barriers between them had been destroyed by their desire for one another. She did not doubt she would continue to find him wholly disagreeable many, many times in the future but if they could maintain their desire, it would be worthwhile.

  Lord, she had almost forgotten her reasons for becoming his mistress—and they had been practical and nothing to do with the twisting heat he caused inside of her… had they?

  “What have you done to me? You enslave me, Lilly. I could think of nothing else but your touch whilst I was in London. Of your sweet lips.” He put a finger to them. “Of your beautiful eyes and soft skin.”

  With a smile, Lilly rolled her eyes. Perhaps she did feel beautiful when Evan treated her this way, but she knew it was because he was about to take her. Probably it was the challenge she presented that made her attractive to him. Or the scandal of their liaison.

  “You don’t believe me,” he stated, letting his finger linger on her lips.

  She kissed the tip of his finger. “I am sure you believe that now.”

  “I don’t lie and I stand by my word. We have not known each other long, but I would have thought you had realized that by now.”

  Lilly stared at him. Her heart reached out to him, desperate to believe him, but the doubt in her head would not be suppressed. Had she not always believed in following her head rather than her heart? Her mother followed her heart and look where that led her. But Evan had proved himself to be blunt and honest at all times. If he had done anything to her father, she was sure she would have known. Would she have given herself so easily if she genuinely believed him to be so depraved?

  She could only conclude she would not, or that would make her a fool indeed.

  “You seldom disguise the truth, I shall give you that much.”

  “I can offer no honeyed words, for certain.”

  “Yet you call me beautiful.”

  “You are. Your skin is perfection, your eyes haunt me in my sleep.”

  “And these are not honeyed words?”

  Evan smirked. “See? You’ve enchanted me. I can’t even control my tongue around you.”

  Lilly toyed with a lock of his silky dark hair. “Well, that I can sympathize with. I can rarely claim to be in control of my tongue.”

  “That is true.” He dropped a kiss to her lips. “And I’m glad. I cannot tolerate false behavior.” Those clever kisses continued as he sketched a path down her neck to her collarbone.

  Her stomach twisted. Her words and behavior might not have been wholly false, but she had sought him out for one reason only initially and her agreement to be his mistress had been dri
ven by a desire for the truth. Was that such a bad thing? The bunching in her gut told her yes. Should she admit to her doubts about him and risk being sent away? As he leisurely pulled apart the laces of her chemise and lavished attention to the soft rise of her breasts, Lilly sighed. No, that was too great a risk.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Unable to fathom why Lilly had such an effect on him, Evan buried his head against her breasts and found one tight tip straining against the cotton. He closed his mouth around the fabric and was rewarded with her arching up into him. He slid an arm around her back and clutched her to him and he sucked and nibbled lightly on her nipple.

  He still wasn’t sure why he had returned a day early, only that he had longed to taste Lilly, to feel her, even to hear her with such an urgency that he couldn’t sit still. Concluding sitting around in London for one more night was a waste of time, he had caught the late train. Even the long walk from the station to the house was not enough to perturb him. Evan had not been sure she would be awake but he intended to slip into her bed nonetheless and at least hold her. His concern for Eleanor, his disgust at her husband’s behavior melted away with Lilly’s sweet sighs and soft flesh.

  Of course, he didn’t believe for a second she had only come here for reading material. She had been snooping. She was a curious, bright creature and no doubt needed stimulation. Perhaps her loneliness had driven her to sneak into his study. Why else would she be interested in his personal papers which bored even him? His gut twisted, but he shook off the guilt of leaving her alone as he shifted to her other breast and laved the same attention on it. She knew full well what she was agreeing to. As a mistress she could expect him to turn up when and if he tired of her, she would have to content herself with living in his home alone for the rest of their contract.

  Evan tugged the chemise further down, exposing one quivering, lush breast. He groaned. How could he ever tire of this? Damn and blast, he only had a year. He would have to pray he wearied of her as he could offer her no more. A whole year was too long in the company of one woman as it was, particularly one who fired his blood. It was a good thing he could come and go as he pleased or else they might discover if he really was like his father and he would rather die than harm a woman, especially Lilly.