How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

by Vanessa Kelly

  Then Evie obviously took in the fact that her mother had all but ordered her to spend the day with him. She cast him a startled glance, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. He would have enjoyed her charming display of nerves but for the fact that she’d obviously rather spend the day at the receiving end of nasty gossip than in his company.

  “Mamma, I really think I should stay,” she protested. “After all, this is my fault.”

  “There is more than enough blame to hand around, young lady,” her mother replied. “Now, go upstairs and get ready.”

  “But—”

  “Go,” Lady Reese said, pointing an imperious finger at the door.

  Evie rolled her eyes and threw Will an irate look, a sure indication that she was rapidly recovering from her bout of shyness. She marched out of the room, shutting the door with a decided snap.

  Lady Reese gave him an apologetic smile, but the frosty cast of her eyes worried him.

  “Please don’t be too hard on Evie, your ladyship,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “I think she’s having some trouble adjusting to my . . .” He struggled to sum up their complicated history.

  “To your precipitous return to her life after breaking her heart all those years ago?” Lady Reese asked. Clearly, she had no trouble defining that history.

  Still, her blunt response surprised him. “That was never my intention. And forgive me if I’m wrong, but it appeared at the time that you would not have approved of our marriage.”

  “No, not then,” she said.

  That gave him another jolt. “You mean you would now? What’s changed?”

  “You have,” she replied in the same, startling vein of candor. “You’ve established a sound military career and you have influential patrons. Lord Reese, for one, expects you to do quite well.”

  Ah.

  Lady Reese had always found Will’s parentage distasteful, but his father’s support over the last several years had obviously changed her opinion.

  Unfortunately, her ladyship couldn’t know that the duke would have his hide if he even so much as suggested he wished to marry Evie. His father had made it clear last night that she was to be the subject of an investigation and nothing more.

  “You need to find a wife who will support your career and social standing, William,” the duke had said in a blighting tone. “The Reese family is well enough, but the girl consorts with radicals and has, at best, a modest dowry. Besides, she’s damned awkward. No style or conversation, from what I understand.”

  His father had then pointed him in the direction of Lady Calista, all but ordering him to take her down to supper.

  And look how well that turned out.

  “I’m not rich,” he said to Lady Reese. “I can provide comfortably for a wife and family but certainly not in the style Evie’s accustomed to.”

  “Not yet,” she said with pointed emphasis.

  Will shook his head, trying to control his exasperation. None of this made any sense. “I thank you for your confidence, my lady, but the subject appears to be moot. Evie has no notion of marrying me. In fact, it would appear she’s all but engaged to Mr. Beaumont.”

  Lady Reese’s dark, elegant brows snapped together in a fierce scowl. She rose to her feet like an avenging fury. “She will not be marrying that man. Not if I have anything to say about it. He’s been a most regrettable influence on her. Not only is Mr. Beaumont a Catholic, he has radical tendencies. I refuse to allow my daughter to marry that sort of person.”

  Will pondered whether to bark at her for her cold-hearted bigotry or applaud her for an instinctive sense that something was off-color with Beaumont. He decided on the former. Beaumont came from one of the oldest and most distinguished families in the land, but there was still a great deal of ill feeling toward Catholics. He found it ironic that both Lady Reese and his father shared a mutual antipathy for Beaumont.

  Evie, unfortunately, would suffer the consequences even if Beaumont were to be found innocent.

  “Michael Beaumont is a wealthy son of a distinguished earl,” he pointed out. “And he is clearly fond of Evie.”

  “I don’t trust him.” She sounded like she was grinding rocks between her teeth. “He’s going to bring her trouble. I just know it.”

  Now, that was interesting. Lady Reese might be lamentably narrow-minded, but she was an intelligent and perceptive woman. Did she sense something about Beaumont that was a genuine threat, or was she simply another anti-Papist?

  “Are you suggesting Evie is in some sort of danger through her association with Beaumont?” he asked in a deliberately skeptical voice.

  Lady Reese gave her head a tiny shake, as if throwing off her uncharacteristically emotional display. She resumed her seat with her usual dignity. “I’m saying that you have an obligation to my daughter, William, one which I consider to be of long standing. I expect you to act upon it, as any gentleman would.”

  There was no response to that statement that wouldn’t toss him into a pit full of snakes. Fortunately, he was rescued by Evie’s return.

  “I’m ready,” she said, sounding more resigned than annoyed. Perhaps she’d decided that an outing with him was preferable to spending the day as the ton’s current target of gossip.

  Will made his bow to Lady Reese and went to take Evie’s arm. She’d garbed herself in a well-cut, royal blue pelisse that shaped her luscious curves and brought out the color in her eyes. With the faint blush in her cheeks, her sweetness made his mouth water.

  “You look pretty,” he said, starting to enjoy himself.

  She wrinkled her nose as if she didn’t believe him. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll tell you when we’re outside.”

  “Have a nice day, my dears,” her mother called after them. “Don’t forget to take an umbrella.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mamma,” Evie responded. She glanced at Will as he led her to the entrance hall. “Why do you think she’s acting so . . . nice?”

  He shrugged as he took an umbrella from a waiting footman. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

  Chapter Eleven

  As Will handed her up into his dashing green curricle, Evie struggled to calm her flustered nerves. She felt horribly awkward after last night’s scene with Calista, despite Will’s evident amusement with the ghastly episode. And then there was her mother who was apparently doing everything she could to throw Will at her, as if she truly did believe he’d come courting.

  All those tangled-up emotions scattered when he sprang into the carriage and sat next to her. Left in their place was a heightened awareness of his muscular body plastered against her—shoulder, arm, hip, and thigh. So much contact and so much heat that all but threatened to turn her brain to mush.

  He smiled, his knowing gaze partly shaded by the brim of his hat. “Are you comfortable, or do you need a lap blanket?” He peered up at the sky, a high overcast that turned the gleaming white of the neat town houses lining the street to a dull, pale gray. “I don’t think it’s going to rain, so we’ll keep the umbrella stowed under the seat for now.”

  “I don’t need a lap blanket, but perhaps this isn’t the best day for a drive in the park,” she said, hating that she sounded so breathless. “We wouldn’t want to get rained on if you’re wrong.”

  He cut her the rogue’s grin she was beginning to like too much. “I’m not wrong. Besides, we won’t be spending much time in the park.”

  With no explanation of that cryptic remark, he set the curricle bowling down the street, expertly negotiating the tight corner at the top of Upper Brook Street moments later to bring them into Park Lane.

  “Well, where are we going?” she finally prodded. “I hope you didn’t plan anything too elaborate, since I’m hardly dressed for it.”

  His gaze flicked down over her body, lingering on her chest for long seconds. “You look just fine,” he said in a low, rumbling voice that made her go suddenly weak. Of course, that feeling might also be the result of being wedged so
tightly against his brawny frame.

  She tried to put an inch or two between them, disconcerted by his apparently deliberate flirtation. “That’s not what I asked,” she said in a prim voice.

  “First I need to say something.”

  Evie glanced at him, puzzled by the sudden switch from easygoing flirtation to an almost somber tone. She’d always been able to read Will—except for their spectacular misunderstanding years ago—and he’d never been prone to capricious changes in behavior. Now, he seemed different in ways she barely recognized.

  But she supposed the same could be said about her. Although never as carefree as her twin, Evie hadn’t always been a pattern card of buttoned-up spinsterhood. She remembered a childhood full of laughter and games and the silly adventures children engaged in when they had no one to please but themselves. Bit by bit, she’d lost that sense of fun. Sometimes, when she looked at Eden, so full of curiosity and eager for life, she felt little better than a pale copy, leached of color and interest.

  She blew out an exasperated breath, impatient that she would think, much less act, with such inflated drama—as she’d done last night. She had a perfectly good life, with friends and family that loved her and work that truly meant something. It was simply Will’s sudden reappearance in her life that had made her begin questioning herself.

  It was a bellwether warning to keep him at a safe distance.

  “Evie, are you listening to me?”

  She jerked, blinking in surprise as she realized they’d already turned onto Piccadilly and were driving past Green Park Lodge.

  “Um, yes . . . that is to say . . .” She grimaced. “I’m sorry, Will. My mind must have wandered for a moment.”

  “Well, that puts me in my place,” he said sardonically.

  When she maintained an uncomfortable silence, he made a scoffing noise and turned into the laneway leading to the Reservoir, pulling up his horses under a stand of trees.

  “I thought you said we weren’t going to the park,” she said.

  “We weren’t, but I need your full attention when I say this,” he said, setting the brake and turning to face her.

  Evie darted a glance around. Green Park was mostly deserted this early in the day, devoid even of nannies with their young charges, no doubt kept inside by the lowering sky. In fact, she thought she’d just felt a drop or two of rain but had no intention of pointing that out. Not when Will was looking at her with an expression suggesting she had more hair than wit.

  He did seem to have a marked effect on her ability to think rationally.

  She crossed her hands on top of her reticule and gave him what she hoped was a placid smile—one that a schoolmistress might give to her prize pupil. Or one that encouraged but also suggested the answer didn’t really matter all that much.

  Will tipped her chin up with a leather-gloved finger, forcing her to look straight into his riveting eyes. Eyes that had always been able to see clear into her heart. In the old days, Evie had found that enchanting. Now his close inspection inspired conflicting impulses—to melt into his arms, or to leap down from the carriage and take to her heels, heading for the uncertain safety of Hertford Street.

  A wry smile curled up the corners of a mouth that was both hard and generous and utterly masculine. Evie could remember every detail of how that mouth tasted—even after only one kiss under a moonlight sky years ago.

  As if in response to the vivid memory, his fingers moved to gently cradle her jaw. He barely touched her, and yet his touch held all the heat and emotion of a lover’s embrace.

  “You are going to drive me mad, aren’t you?” Will murmured.

  The intensity of his gaze struck her full-force, making her heart pound with a heavy beat that rushed blood through her body. Evie began to tremble deep inside, and it radiated out until even her fingers shook.

  “Will,” she managed to croak. “What are you about?”

  He finally shifted his gaze, casting a quick glance around. His hand, however, remained on her chin a moment longer, finally drifting away in a soft slide along the underside of her jaw. As hard as she tried, she could not repress a shiver.

  Then he turned forward and put a few inches of space between them. “God knows what I’m doing,” he muttered, as if to himself.

  “If you don’t, I certainly can’t tell you,” she said, annoyed with yet another mercurial change in his behavior. If this was the new Will, she wasn’t sure she liked this version all that much. Well, in all honesty she was forced to admit she’d liked his gentle touch on her face, though she would certainly never tell him.

  Fortunately, he laughed, dissolving some of the tension.

  “I’m trying to apologize for that scene in the supper room last night,” he said. “I didn’t intend to make things difficult for you.”

  He picked up the reins, although he didn’t set the horses in motion. In fact, he stared straight ahead, a frown marking his handsome features.

  “Is there something else?” she asked, poking his bicep. Even under the fabric of his coat it felt like she’d tapped an iron bar.

  He grimaced. “Yes. I need to apologize for my, er . . . for the Duke of York’s behavior last night. I had no expectation he would act so rudely to you. I’m truly sorry, Evie. It was awful for you.”

  That was certainly the truth, but Evie knew it had also been awful for Will. She heard the shame and frustration in his voice, and silently cursed his father for humiliating him so publicly. But she sensed that too much sympathy on her part would only embarrass him further.

  “What I’d really like is for you to apologize for talking to Calista in the first place. I suppose you didn’t know how truly awful she is, but that’s no excuse,” she said in a rallying tone.

  One corner of his mouth edged up in a reluctant smile. He released the brake and deftly turned his horses, wheeling out onto Piccadilly once more. “You’re right, I didn’t know. But I can assure you that I now entirely share your opinion. Lady Calista got everything she deserved last night.”

  Inside, Evie breathed a sigh of relief. The very idea of Will caught in the clutches of a shrew like Calista made her stomach cramp. Not with jealousy, she firmly told herself, but because she hated to see a friend fall prey to a budding harpy.

  “How did you find yourself trapped in Calista’s claws?” she asked. “You don’t even know her.” She’d lain awake half the night worrying over that—along with a dozen other things—and she was still curious.

  He hesitated, as if weighing how to answer. “You can put that down to the duke, as well,” he finally said. “He all but threw her into my arms.”

  “Really? It looked to me like he was reading you a lecture.”

  “That came before the throwing.”

  Evie suddenly felt the need to fuss with her reticule. She shouldn’t ask but couldn’t help herself. “I assume the duke lectured you about me?”

  He flashed a look full of regret. “Was it that obvious?”

  She turned a hand, palm up, in silent answer.

  He sighed. “I had hoped it wasn’t too obvious.”

  “Only Captain Gilbride and I noticed, I think,” she said, determined not to mention Eden’s assessment that half the room had likely discerned the snub.

  He cursed under his breath.

  She touched his sleeve. “It’s nothing to stew about, Will. I’m simply curious to know how I offended him.” She gave him a wry smile. “I’m rather famous for offending people, but this is the first time I’ve pulled it off with royalty.”

  That won her a grudging laugh. “It’s wasn’t you, per se,” he said. “My fa . . . the duke—”

  “You can call him whatever you want around me,” she interrupted. “He is your father, and the relationship is important to you. As it should be.”

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “It’s hard to speak of him in that way. Even harder to think of him as my father, if you want to know the truth. My uncle raised me and was always there for me, not the
duke.”

  “Yes, I imagine it’s been awkward sorting out those conflicting loyalties. But stop stalling, Wolf.” She deliberately used the old nickname. “I’m going to badger you until you tell me what that lecture was about.” The fact that he was so obviously loath to tell her had both piqued her curiosity and made her worry—for him.

  “I’d forgotten what a scold you can be, Evie. No, wait. I hadn’t.”

  “Do I need to bash you over the head?”

  “No, stop. I’ll tell you. Head-bashing is not recommended while driving through Mayfair.”

  They’d reached the outskirts of Mayfair already, heading toward Leicester Square. She’d barely noticed, too interested in their conversation to pay much attention to the bustle of the streets of London.

  “My father,” he said in a careful manner, “has taken a considerable interest in my future.”

  “Well, that’s all very good, isn’t it?”

  “In some ways, but it would appear he’s turned into something of a matchmaker.”

  It only took Evie a few seconds to decipher his vague statement. “Of course. He would wish you to marry an heiress, preferably one who is both accomplished and beautiful and will help you establish yourself socially. The opposite of someone like me, from the duke’s point of view.”

  He glanced at her with a reluctant smile of appreciation. “You were always quick as the devil, Evie.”

  “For all the good it does me. I hope you made it clear to your father that I was not casting lures at you.”

  He shook his head. “It would seem he thought I was the one doing the casting.”

  Her throat constricted. “You must have told him how silly that was.” Her voice came out on a squeak.

  “He never gave me the chance. The lecture was followed immediately by the introduction to Lady Calista.” He gave her an ironic glance. “You know the rest.”

  It struck her that his answer was little more than a dodge. But wisdom dictated she not pursue that avenue of thought, for a thousand reasons she would no doubt shortly remember.