How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

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How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy Page 7

by Vanessa Kelly


  Ah, now that was a tidy detail. She obviously thought her mother was up to something too.

  Beaumont glanced at Evie and cleared his throat in a pointed fashion. Her shoulders jerked even higher and her cheeks went from pink to red.

  “Oh, dear, I’m forgetting my manners,” she said. “Michael, allow me to introduce you to Captain William Endicott of the 1st Royal Dragoons. Will, this is the Honorable Michael Beaumont, a very good friend of mine.”

  After murmured acknowledgments of the introduction, silence held sway for a few seconds as the two men took each other’s measure. Will might have been amused at the way Beaumont’s gaze flicked over him in sharp assessment, as if sizing up a rival, if he didn’t still have a hand on Evie’s back. In fact, from Will’s angle, he could see that it rested perilously close to the swell of her pretty arse.

  Will ignored his growing irritation and focused on the man in front of him. Beaumont was almost as tall as Will but thinner and looked more the scholarly sort than a Corinthian. His style was respectable although hardly that of a dandy—his Oriental-style cravat and neatly brushed hair attested to that. He held himself with a quiet sort of confidence that Evie would probably find attractive.

  More important was what he deduced from Beaumont’s lean, clever features, and the brown eyes that shone with intensity and intelligence. If the sharpness in that dark gaze was any indication, Beaumont was a man who didn’t miss much. If he was involved in a conspiracy, Will had the distinct impression he would be a formidable opponent. That meant that Evie—if she really was about to marry the man—could be in danger, after all.

  Even a remote possibility of that was not acceptable to Will.

  When neither man seemed inclined to break the uncomfortable silence, Evie let out an impatient sigh and attempted to fill in the breach. “Will is an old childhood friend, Michael. We practically grew up together.”

  Beaumont’s smile transformed his features from ones of narrow suspicion to those of a man who clearly had warm feelings toward the woman standing before him. “Then the captain is indeed a lucky man, Evelyn. I wish I had known you when you were a little girl. I’m sure you were most charming.”

  When Beaumont’s fingers inched a fraction closer to Evie’s bottom, Will lifted a pointed eyebrow at the offending hand. Evie let out a tiny gasp and took a hasty step to the side.

  “I’m sure I wasn’t,” she said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Wolf, er, Will could tell you that. Eden and I were both perfectly horrid little girls.”

  Beaumont looked a little embarrassed to be caught with his hand all but on Evie’s arse, but he made a quick recovery. “I’m sure that’s not true, at least in your case, as no doubt the captain must attest to.”

  “Evie was a sweetheart,” Will agreed. “Now, Edie . . . that’s a different story. You took your life in your hands when you embarked on one of her adventures. But Evie never had anything but the kindest of natures.”

  Evie’s eyes went wide at his compliment. Will held her gaze, silently conveying that he meant every word of it.

  But her reaction was not what he expected. Her expression grew pinched and anxious, and she moved in Beaumont’s direction, as if looking for support. Beaumont rested a reassuring hand on her arm.

  That made it clear there was some sort of understanding between them, and Will liked that as little as he liked the fact that Evie turned instinctively to Beaumont for protection . . . against him.

  “How did you and Evie meet, Mr. Beaumont? Is your family old friends with the Reese family, as well?”

  “I’m afraid we didn’t have that pleasure until a few years ago,” Beaumont said in a haughty tone. For a supposed radical, he could look down his aristocratic nose with the best of them.

  “We met at a lecture at the Royal Society,” Evie added with a forced-looking smile. “We discovered we shared an interest in Celtic history, and Michael was kind enough to loan me a number of books on the subject. That led to discussions of other matters of mutual interest.”

  Evie was interested in Celtic history? That was news to Will.

  “And a fortunate day it was for me when I decided to attend that lecture,” Michael said warmly, “and for St. Margaret’s, as well. You were the saving of us, Evelyn.”

  A genuine, sweet smile curled her lips, making her look young and shyly pretty. Will’s gut clenched with the knowledge that Beaumont could tease out of hiding the Evie of days gone by, when he couldn’t.

  Focus on the task. “St. Margaret’s?” he asked with polite interest. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that.”

  “It’s a church and a charity in St. Giles,” Evie replied. “Michael is one of the patrons, and I sometimes help out. I’m sure it’s nothing you’d be interested in, Will.”

  “I’m interested in everything you do, Evie,” Will said in a gently chiding tone. “You should know that by now.”

  “Really?” she said. “I would have thought the opposite was true, given our history.”

  The unexpected riposte robbed him of speech for a few moments. Beaumont stepped into the conversational breach. “I’m sure you have no interest in our simple little charity, Captain Endicott. Anything we could tell you would surely pale in comparison to your military adventures in the Peninsula, for instance.”

  Will was tempted to grab the blighter by his cravat and pull him up on his toes, but Beaumont’s jab had revealed something important. Evie had clearly talked to Beaumont about him, perhaps even explaining their falling out.

  And now she’d gone back to looking awkward, as if she’d suddenly remembered how much she loathed conflict. “Michael, I’m sure it must be time to go in for dinner. Will you escort me in?”

  Just as Beaumont turned to take her arm, Alec strolled up and smoothly inserted himself between Evie and her swain. “Miss Whitney, how delightful to see you again. I must tell you, I find your family completely charming. Your mother, in particular, has been most welcoming.”

  “That would be a change,” Evie muttered.

  Will finally gave in to his darker angels. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

  “Never mind,” she gritted out. “Michael—”

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Alec said, turning to Beaumont with an expansive smile. “Miss Whitney, will you do the honors?”

  Evie sighed and then performed the most perfunctory of introductions. “The Honorable Michael Beaumont, Captain Gilbride.”

  She stressed the Honorable as if to suggest that Michael was above their touch. She obviously didn’t know that Alec was heir to one of the wealthiest earldoms in Britain. Still, it wasn’t like Evie to indulge in snobbery. It was more evidence of how rattled she was.

  “Alec, we were talking about Mr. Beaumont’s charity in London,” Will added. “In St. Giles. It sounds a most worthy cause, which I am sure would interest you greatly.”

  His cousin needed no further prompting.

  “Oh, indeed,” Alec responded, appropriately enthused. “A man can’t do enough to help the unfortunate poor, can he? You must tell me all about it, Mr. Beaumont. I’m indeed vastly interested.”

  Will had to swallow a laugh. As usual, Alec was laying it on rather thick. Evie’s features displayed her skepticism, but Beaumont was peering at him with an arrested expression on his scholarly face.

  “You take an interest in charitable works, Captain Gilbride?” he cautiously asked.

  “Lord, yes, as does my grandfather, the Earl of Riddick. We’re forever talking about where we can do the most good. There’s such a great need, especially in the stews, don’t you agree? It’s positively shocking what those poor devils there have to suffer.”

  Though Will initially thought Alec was overplaying his hand, he was wrong. From the gleam in Beaumont’s eyes, the man was well and truly hooked.

  “In that case, I’d like very much to tell you about the work we do at St. Margaret’s,” Beaumont replied.

  “Splendid. I can’t think of anything
I’d rather talk about.” Alec took Beaumont’s arm and started to lead him away.

  Beaumont seemed to recollect himself. “Evelyn, do you mind—”

  “Not to worry, Mr. Beaumont, I’ll take care of her,” Will replied.

  That brought the scowl back to the man’s face, but Alec steered him toward the other side of the room, talking with obvious enthusiasm. In a matter of seconds, Beaumont was reengaged in the discussion and had apparently forgotten all about Evie.

  Will had no intention of making the same mistake.

  He turned back to her with a warm smile. She nervously flapped her lace fan against the side of her leg, looking worried and suspicious. “What are you up to, Will?”

  He turned his back to the room, shielding her from observation. “Why should I be up to anything, Evie? I simply want to speak with my oldest and dearest friend.”

  Prettily flushed a few minutes ago, she now looked pale and strained. “Oh, is that what we are? Perhaps we have different definitions of friendship. In my understanding of the term, friends stay in touch with each other. They answer letters and make an effort to see each other when they come back home, for however brief a time. And they certainly don’t abandon one of them to wonder what she’d done to deserve such shabby, hurtful treatment from her oldest and dearest friend.”

  For a moment, Will was too shocked to muster an answer. They stared at each other, the years and the distance falling away under the onslaught of her emotional pain. The hell of it was that he truly didn’t have a good answer, for he’d done exactly that—abandoned their friendship. Not out of malice or disregard, but simply because he’d been too idiotically selfish to understand the impact it could have on someone as sensitive and loving as Evie.

  Then she blinked, as she recalled her surroundings. Flushing a bright pink, she looked away. “I had no right to say any of those things, Will. Please forgive me.”

  He let out a heavy sigh. “You have every right to be angry with me. But I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart, and that’s the truth. I was just too young and stupid to know any better. Or to know what I truly wanted.”

  She met his gaze, her cornflower-blue eyes big and bright with unshed tears. “And what do you want now?”

  He wanted to tell her that he was sorry he’d been such a fool, and that he should never have turned his back so firmly on her. That he wanted them to be close again, as close as they’d once been.

  But there was another truth staring him in the face. As much as he regretted hurting her and losing her friendship, he didn’t regret his decision to enter the army. Oh, he’d been clumsy and could have done it better, but he’d found the life he’d wanted there. And, at the time, that life hadn’t included her.

  “Evie, I’m sorry.” He grimaced at the inadequacy of his response. It was bad enough he had to lie to her about Beaumont and the real reason he was visiting Maywood Manor. Will refused to compound that ugly but necessary deception with vague promises he couldn’t possibly keep.

  The swift passage of pain across her face wiped away the precious glimpse of the sweet girl he’d once loved.

  “Never mind,” she said in a flat voice. “Both of us, as you say, were young and stupid, especially me. I should have known better than to expect anything from you.”

  Her bitter pessimism sparked him to anger. “Evie, I am truly sorry I hurt you, but I never once made a promise to you that I couldn’t keep.”

  “No, you were always very careful in that respect, weren’t you? God forbid you should accept any responsibility for your actions.”

  Evie started to move away but he lashed out a hand to grasp her wrist. She startled, and then tugged. “Let me go,” she hissed, “before someone notices you acting like a bully.”

  “A bully?” he asked with disbelief. “I know I hurt you and I’m truly sorry for that, but I know how strong you were, too, despite your shy ways. You were always the strong one, much more so than Eden, in fact. You were happy, too, no matter what was going on around us. But now I barely recognize you.”

  She went so pale she looked ready to swoon. But when he reached out for her, she pushed his hand away.

  “I’m sorry I don’t live up to your expectations,” she said, obviously fighting for control. “It must be such a disappointment to know that I’ve finally grown up. But you see, I now have better things to do than moon over arrogant, handsome boys, and trail behind them like a lovesick puppy.”

  “It wasn’t like that, and you know it. I remember we were happy—with each other.” God, even to his own ears he sounded like a fool.

  “That is true,” she said in a low voice, trying not to draw attention. Her tone seethed with resentment. “But what I remember is that the rest of my life wasn’t happy or easy. I was running this household by the time I was fifteen, because Mamma couldn’t be bothered to do it. But when I was with you, I tried to be what you wanted me to be—happy and carefree, the kind of girl I thought you would love. But it didn’t work. You left me anyway and never looked back.”

  He wanted to protest, but she cut him off. “And once I got over the pain and shock of being summarily abandoned, I finally got the chance to be who I wanted to be. Not who you wanted me to be.”

  Before he could respond, he heard the soft patter of evening slippers rushing up behind him.

  “Is everything all right, Evie?” Eden asked, barging past him.

  “Yes, dear, everything is fine. Will and I were just reminiscing over old times.”

  There was no possible reply to that, so Will simply held his tongue.

  Eden narrowed her eyes at him and leaned in a bit, apparently ready to jab him in the chest with her finger. Or slap him. “I’ll be talking with you later, Wolf Endicott.” It was definitely more threat than promise.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” he responded dryly.

  Eden let out a disgusted snort and took her sister’s arm. “Come along, darling. Michael’s waiting to take you in to dinner.”

  They marched right past Alec, barely deigning to notice him as he hastily stepped out of their way. Will glanced around, looking for a bare spot of wall against which to bang his thick skull.

  “Looks like that went well,” Alec observed as he strolled up.

  “You can’t even begin to imagine,” Will said.

  “I did my part, so it’s not my fault you don’t have your head in the game. But it’s not like you to let a pretty girl twist you in knots like that, Wolf.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose it was only to be expected.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” When Alec started to answer, Will waved a hand. “Never mind. How did it go with Beaumont?”

  “The man has angels coming out of his backside, to hear him tell it. But I’ll fill you in later.” He nodded across the drawing room. “It’s time for dinner, and you’re to take in Miss Eden Whitney. I believe she’s waiting for you.”

  Sure enough, Eden stood by the door, glaring at him like he’d just erupted from the depth of Hades in a belch of fire and brimstone.

  “Good God,” Will muttered. “What the hell have I done to deserve this?”

  A mocking laugh from Alec was his only answer.

  Chapter Six

  Evie hovered outside the breakfast parlor, trying to work up her courage. Sooner or later she’d have to face Will and apologize for her rude behavior the previous evening. More than one person, including her mother, had seen her deliver him that unfortunate scold in the drawing room. Even Michael had noticed her bad temper. Not that she’d done a very good job of hiding it.

  As for Will, she’d managed to avoid him for the rest of the evening, thanks to Eden switching the place cards in the dining room. Predictably, their mother had seated Evie next to Will, but Eden had shifted him next to garrulous Lady Portmire. Evie had read his annoyance in the tight set to his jaw, but he’d treated the elderly countess with faultless courtesy.

  Mamma had been startled and clearly displeased by the switch
but had done nothing but direct an angry glare at Evie, wrongly attributing blame to her, as usual. Not that Evie minded. She would happily accept a lecture if it meant saving her from the discomfort of having to spend hours sitting next to Will. After last night, she could almost wish never to see him again.

  That proved Will’s assertion that she’d turned into a coward, even if he hadn’t expressed it quite like that.

  “Is something wrong, Miss Evelyn?”

  Swallowing a startled squeak, Evie turned to find one of the footmen standing behind her with a rack of toast in his hand.

  “No, not at all,” she said with a weak smile. “Here, let me get the door for you.”

  The young man looked appropriately horrified at the suggestion. “No, miss, that won’t be necessary.”

  He scuttled around her to open the door. When she preceded him into the room, he breathed out an audible sigh of relief, leaving Evie to reflect on the fact that she was capable of upsetting even the junior footman with very little effort. She supposed it took a certain amount of talent to be able to offend most everyone she knew, except for Michael, who never took offense at anything she said or did. No wonder she liked him so much.

  Ducking her head, she braced herself to face their guests, including Will.

  Sunshine streamed through the Venetian windows and threw bars of light and shadow across the pink and green floral carpet. The breakfast parlor was one of the prettiest rooms in the house, with pale green walls trimmed with glossy black panels, and a set of lovely Queen Anne sideboards against the wall. Evie and Eden often whiled away a good part of the morning in this room reading their correspondence, planning the day’s activities, or simply chatting. It was a pleasant, peaceful way to start the day.

  It also had the added virtue of being the only room their mother rarely set foot in. Mamma invariably had breakfast in bed before she repaired to her private parlor at the back of the house. Unfortunately, she had chosen to come down for breakfast this morning, which meant she had something up her sleeve. Only in the case of a dire emergency did Mamma set foot out of her room before eleven o’clock, even when guests were visiting. The fact that she was down before ten today was alarming, to say the least.

 

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