“And we all know where you are going.”
This time, Evan didn’t hesitate to face his mother head-on and challenge her with a cock of an eyebrow.
“If insubordination is a sin, then I’ll see you there.”
Touché. Evan smiled. “Have a good evening, Mother.” And then he walked away, quite satisfied with that interaction for some strange reason.
Lady Alicia had still yet to darken the doorway, and Grace had lost herself in the crowd somewhere. So with nothing to deter him, Evan set off for the card room. All the rooms were interconnected, so he made his way from the ballroom, through the gallery, the dining room, down a short corridor, past the servants’ staircase, and then opened a door into the library.
Hmm. Where the devil was the card room?
He strode across the dimly lit library, past rows of books and several clusters of chairs and settees, to the doors on the opposite side and slid them open, only to find the grand foyer at the top of the main staircase that led directly into the ballroom. Hoping to escape the notice of anyone on the other side, he quietly slid the doors shut again. It wasn’t the card room, but at least it was devoid of any frustrating women. He could spend an hour or so here, before showing his face in the ballroom again. With any luck, Lady Alicia would never arrive, and he’d be able to go home without dancing or any sort of interaction at all.
He chose a book at random from one of the shelves and nestled into a chair near a sconce. It was rather dim for reading, but he attempted it anyway.
“I am a man, So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it, or be rid on’t.”
He looked at the cover again. Damn. He’d picked up a bloody horrid novel. Not something a gentleman would typically indulge in, but what did it really matter? He was only going to stay here for a short while, anyway. It was simply to bide his time.
Satisfied with his rationale, he read on, and was soon struck with the irony of his choice. The woman, Madame de la Motte, as she was called, was being forced to leave Paris.
“Farewell, all!” sighed she, “this last look and we are separated forever!”
Evan knew well the grief she experienced at leaving that city. Of course, the circumstance of her forced departure took a rather more dramatic turn, as horrid novels were wont to do, but still. It struck a chord, and pushed him to read on. After a few more pages, he was so engrossed in the story he didn’t hear the library door slide open. It was only when the intruder gasped that he looked up.
Mrs. Radcliffe and her tragic characters dropped to his lap as his jaw slacked open. “Grace,” he whispered as if she were an apparition.
“Oh! Goodness. I-I didn’t realize,” she stammered, clearly flustered at having found him here. “I was…that is, this is not the room I was looking for. So sorry to disturb. I’ll just…go. Carry on!” She turned abruptly and ran smack into the door with a resounding thud. The contact knocked her backward a foot or two as she reached up to rub her forehead.
Evan leaped from his seat. “Are you all right?” he asked as he bounded across the room.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Grace replied through her strained voice. “I just feel…stupid.”
“Let me see.” He grabbed her by both elbows and bent down so he was at a level with her forehead. “It’s a bit red, I think, but there doesn’t appear to be a bump.”
She had stilled, and when Evan shifted his gaze from her forehead to her shimmering emerald eyes, his breath caught. A million thoughts ran through his mind: we’re alone, she’s beautiful, Lady Alicia has a lover, I could kiss her, but if I kiss her it will only add to my guilt, my mother would kill me…
Damn it! Who bloody well cared about all of that? She was here and he wanted her. Desperately. He’d missed her every moment of the last few days—her smile, her conversation, her lips.
Without giving it another thought, he gripped her elbows a little tighter and pulled her swiftly to him, until their bodies were flush against one another. He tilted his head down, so they were nose-to-nose, both breathing heavily. The air was charged with passion and desperation. Grace shook in his embrace. Not wanting to lose another moment, Evan lowered his head, ready to descend upon her lips.
“Stop.” The word came out on a squeak, and he paused, just a hairsbreadth away from her plump mouth. “Please,” she added.
Evan lifted his head again and pulled away slightly to look at her. “Why?”
“I’ll not be some pawn in your little game.” Her tone was bolder now, but she made no effort to remove herself from his embrace.
“Game?” He sounded like some sort of mimicking bird, but his brain was all a jumble and he couldn’t quite puzzle out what she was talking about.
“You said the reason you kissed me the other night was to even the score,” she clarified. “To get back at Lady Alicia for being unfaithful to you.”
He had said that, hadn’t he? He hadn’t meant it, though, and he’d regretted it ever since. His desire for Grace was real and absolutely nothing to do with Lady Alicia. But he’d been angry and confused. He wasn’t about to confess his burning desire for Grace in that moment. Could he admit it now? And would she acquiesce to his seduction if he did?
“That wasn’t true,” he admitted, his voice gruff. “I don’t care what Lady Alicia does. And I certainly don’t care about evening any score. I don’t know why I said that.”
She stared up at him, her eyes piercing and unblinking. “Then why did you kiss me?”
“Because I wanted to. Plain and simple.”
Grace’s features softened momentarily, and Evan thought perhaps he’d broken down the wall he’d put up in the first place. But then, with her next inhalation, her eyes narrowed again and her jaw clenched. “Are you going to marry her?”
The question hung between them. The answer was yes. He was definitely going to marry her. Would Grace be amenable to an arrangement? The stony look upon her face told him this wouldn’t be the time to ask her that. However, she awaited an answer.
“I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice!” Grace pulled away and began pacing before him. “You can call it off. She’s been unfaithful to you—she’s a ruined woman. You have every right to call her out and refuse her hand.”
“At what consequence?” he bit back.
“Why do you care?” She asked this question with such adamancy that it made Evan rear back slightly. “You didn’t care, when you took yourself off to Paris for fifteen years, what anyone would think or say or do upon your return.”
“That’s because I didn’t think. I was young, foolish. I’ve learned my lesson. I have duties to fulfill, promises to keep, honor—”
“Guilt to assuage.”
“Yes!” He was practically yelling now. If they weren’t careful, they’d attract attention. Lowering his voice, he said, “A great deal of it. And as much as I care for you—as much as I wish things could be different—they can’t. They just can’t.”
Grace’s beautiful breasts rose and fell with every belabored breath she took. He wanted so badly to touch her, to take her in his arms and tell her that it was her he really wanted. That if circumstances were different…
His gaze landed on hers, shimmering with tears about to spill over onto her soft pink cheeks. “Please, don’t cry,” he pleaded. “I can’t face your tears.”
With a shaky intake of breath, Grace turned toward the door. “Then I shall shed them elsewhere,” she muttered.
But Evan stopped her before she could open the panel. He pulled her into his embrace and pressed his lips to hers before she had the chance to make another protest. She didn’t resist him, but rather melted against him. She opened her mouth, and Evan tasted her. The saltiness of her tears mingled with her sweet breath, and he savored every moment, drinking her in. She did the same, as if she were ravenous. As if she knew this would be their last kiss.
The tightness in his trousers was becoming too much
to bear. Every thrust of her tongue, every infinitesimal move of her body against his drove him to the brink of insanity. Would she let him take this further?
He cupped her breast. She flinched slightly at first, and then moaned with pleasure as she sank into him again. She fit perfectly into his palm. Evan gave the heavy orb a slight squeeze, and then flattened his palm to caress it gently over her hardened nipple.
Grace’s head reared back as she drew in a shaky breath. Oh, God, how he loved to pleasure her. How he loved to see that slender neck exposed, all white, supple skin for his tasting. He lowered his lips to that little spot at the base of her neck and nipped lightly, working his way up to her ear. He dragged her lobe between his teeth and then sucked hard. “This is what I want to do to your nipple,” he growled before doing it again.
She whimpered, and then thrust her aching mound against his manhood. There was the briefest of pauses, but perhaps the lessons she’d learned from her eavesdropping days came rushing back to her, because she pressed herself even harder against him. Evan gripped her buttocks and lifted her easily. She wrapped her legs around him as he walked three paces to put her back against the wall.
“Lift my dress,” she demanded, her voice husky with desire.
He continued to gyrate against her. “Are you certain?” Please, God, let her say yes.
“Yes!” she whispered with an urgent excitement.
Evan did as he was commanded and lifted her dress so it gathered around her waist. She wore drawers underneath and nothing else. The opening in her drawers allowed him unrestricted access to her honeypot. He easily reached around from behind and dipped a finger into her, rejoicing in the warm slickness he felt as he did.
She whimpered again. “Oh, God.”
“I can’t wait any longer,” he admitted, desperate to feel her around his manhood. “But I don’t want to frighten you.”
“I’m not frightened,” she whispered against his ear. “Please. I know how this works.”
She was practically begging him, wasn’t she? It didn’t matter anymore. He didn’t have time to think it through.
He reached between them to tug at his trousers, while Grace continued to move against him. It was no easy feat, but finally, he released his cock and without wasting a moment, pressed it deep inside of her, breaking through her maidenhead as he did so.
Grace gasped and mewled and buried her head in his shoulder, clearly trying to cope with the pain.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Grace.” He was sorry, but that didn’t stop the urgent and desperate need to spill himself inside of her.
“Don’t be,” she begged. “Just…just…”
She didn’t need to say anymore. The grimace of pain had eased from her features and only desire filled her emerald eyes now.
Evan began to move again, carefully, methodically, drawing himself out and then plunging back in. Over and over he did this, each time making her cries a little more breathless, until finally, she tightened her legs around him and pressed herself hard, and harder still, against him. Taking him deeper and deeper with every breath. His thrusts were infinitesimal, but he could feel her tightening around him, could hear her breathing getting shallower, her control dissipating with every passing moment.
And then it happened. She cried out as her womanhood throbbed around him, pulling the seed from his loins, leaving him no time to pull away.
He clung to her buttocks, pulling her closer, inciting another wave of ecstasy from Grace, prolonging the bliss.
They held their breath for a long moment, and then reality came crashing down upon them.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he said, letting his head thump on the wall beside Grace’s face. “What have I done?”
“You?” she asked incredulously. “What about me? I’m ruined. And by a man who has no intention to marry me.”
“I would if I could.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Please,” she pleaded. “You’ll only make things worse. Let us simply go our separate ways and forget this ever happened.”
As if I could ever forget this evening. “Is that what you want?” Part of him hoped she’d say yes. It would be easier that way.
“No,” she said, laughing through her tears as her head lopped sideways along the wall. “I want you to marry me.”
Guilt sliced through Evan’s heart. Why, in his attempt to assuage himself of his guilt, had he found a way to pile even more on?
“I’m so sorry,” he said at last, not knowing what more to say.
She nodded. “I know.”
Evan finally pulled away, missing her warmth as soon as it was gone, and set Grace upon her feet. They both righted their clothing in silence, for really, there was nothing left to say.
“Well,” Grace said, smiling up at him, though he knew she was merely putting on a brave face. She was made of stronger stuff than he, apparently, for he lacked the ability to hide his sadness and anger over the situation. “I suppose this is goodbye.”
Evan stood still as a statue, staring at her, wishing things could be different.
When he said nothing, her countenance faltered. “Goodbye, then.” She started out the door, but stopped just over the threshold and turned back to him. “And please, should you see me in the garden…pretend I’m not there. Please.”
Ten
Grace paced the length of her room nearly a thousand times when they arrived home from the Rollesbrook ball that night. Sleep eluded her, and she was far too wound up to try and read a book. So instead, she wore a path in her Aubusson rug. She played the entire evening over and over in head, torturing herself with the delicious yet excruciating moments. She asked herself a hundred times why she’d let him do it, why she’d let him in, both in the literal and figurative sense. She knew why—she loved him. That was why she felt sick and blissful and tormented and content all at once when she was in his presence.
And why she’d cried over him far too many times already.
When had it even happened? When exactly did she fall in love with him? Was it the moment he caught her eavesdropping? He’d had such a sense of humor about the whole thing and she remembered that glowing feeling he’d given her when he’d smiled and teased her. Or was it during their first walk through the garden, when he’d been so open and vulnerable with her. She’d thought perhaps he had never shared those things with anyone before. Or perhaps it was how he’d stuck up for her and Chloe to his mother.
She shook her head. She couldn’t be certain. But somewhere in there, he’d captured her heart, and now she despaired that she might never get it back.
The darkness of night was beginning to fade, turning the sky to a paler shade of blue. She figured it must be half past five. In a few hours, she’d be expected to join Chloe and Andrew for services, seeing as it was Sunday morning.
Grace plopped down in her window seat and stared down at the garden with a heavy sigh. And then, at once, she bolted upright.
“Sunday,” she murmured to herself. Sunday!
A plan was formulating in her head, even though she’d sworn to herself she wouldn’t meddle anymore. She was going to leave well enough alone, leave Evan and Lady Alicia to their own fate. But after last night…
He was hers now. She had claimed him last night, and she wasn’t about to lose him without at least putting up a fight.
On swift feet, she ran to her writing desk and penned a note as quickly as she could. It was torture waiting for it to dry, but it wouldn’t do to fold it up too soon or he’d never be able to read the message.
At long last, the note was ready, and Grace tore from her room as if the flames of Hell licked at her feet. She rushed to the lower floors where everything was already a bustle as the servants began to prepare for the day. Many of them still sat around the breakfast table, and they all stood when Grace entered the small dining room.
“Please,” she said, indicating for them to all sit down again. “I need someone to deliver t
his note next door.”
Thomas raised his hand. “I’d be happy to be of service, miss.”
“Thank you, Thomas, but I need someone who is less conspicuous. A kitchen maid, perhaps?”
Though there was an air of curiosity in the room, everyone held their tongues.
“I can do it!” A petite girl with mousy brown hair and eyes that were far too big for her face, jumped out of her seat. “I hardly ever go outside. No one would ever recognize me.”
“Thank you…”
“Birdie,” she said, and Grace thought the name rather suited her.
“Thank you, Birdie.” She waved the girl forward. “Make sure the duke gets this. It is of utmost importance. But do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone who sent you. Understood?”
“Clearly, miss. I won’t let you down.”
~*~
What the devil? Evan read the note again—
Evan,
I’ve something urgent to discuss with you…in private. Please, meet me in the
mews down Pritchett Street. Come as quickly as you can. I will be waiting.
Yours,
Alicia
It was still practically the middle of the night. “Is this a joke?” he asked of his valet, who had only moments ago woken him from a sound sleep.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t know, sir. But there was nothing jovial in the way the missive was delivered.”
Part of him had a mind to answer Alicia, tell her they could bloody well meet at an appropriate time of day, and then go back to sleep. However, having been woken thus, he was far too on edge to contemplate returning to sleep.
Damn and blast! He threw the covers off and instructed Archie to ready his clothes. Within the half hour he was trudging down the steps of his townhome. The sun hadn’t even come all the way up yet, for God’s sake. What the devil was he doing traipsing about the city at an ungodly time of day for a woman who had only ever manipulated and cuckolded him? He must have gone mad.
He walked through the quiet streets. He could have taken a horse, but that would have gotten him to his destination sooner, and he wanted nothing more than to make Lady Alicia wait for him.
The Temptation of the Duke (Regency Romance) Page 10