How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy

by Vanessa Kelly

  He spoiled the easy affect he was obviously hoping to convey by shooting a glare across the room at Will, currently engaged in conversation with Evie’s mother.

  She repressed a sigh. Whatever Will was up to, it did seem to be making Michael jealous. Turning her back on her sister, who was already verbally sparring with Gilbride, Evie set about soothing her beau’s ruffled nerves.

  A brief discussion of their plans to expand the charity-school classes to include adults restored Michael to his usual gentle humor. Gilbride pulled up a chair to join the discussion, asking one or two decidedly intelligent questions that had the effect of launching Michael into an enthusiastic explanation of plans to extend the reach of the Hibernian Benevolent Association over the next several months. Evie had to give the captain credit because he gave not the slightest indication that his attention was anything less than genuine.

  While the two men engaged in a passionate debate about the best way to “squeeze money from the nobs,” as Gilbride put it, Evie turned to her sister, unable to keep from crowing a little bit.

  “I told you the captain was sincere in his interest,” she whispered.

  When her twin simply inspected the captain with a suspicious gaze, Evie rolled her eyes. It was clear there was no pleasing Eden when it came to Gilbride. Eden normally got along well with almost everyone, but for some reason Evie couldn’t fathom, such was not the case with the charming Scot. And her dislike seemed to be growing rather than diminishing over time.

  Her twin’s gaze shifted from the two men, and Eden suddenly went poker-stiff. “Oh, blast. Mamma’s got Will between her claws. She’s on her way over, and she doesn’t look very happy, either.”

  “Oh, confound it,” Evie blurted when she saw her mother marching toward them, practically dragging Will in her wake. Mamma’s trenchant gaze was, unfortunately, directed at Michael.

  “I’m sorry, my dear, did you say something?” Michael asked, looking rather startled as he turned from his discussion with Gilbride.

  She gave him a weak smile. “I simply said Mamma was approaching.”

  “Oh, was that it?” Gilbride said with a roguish twinkle. “I must get my hearing checked, because I could have sworn you said something rather different.”

  “I wish you would go get it checked right now and leave the rest of us alone,” Eden muttered.

  Evie cast her sister a scandalized glance but then turned her attention to her mother.

  And to Will, who bore a long-suffering expression on his face. Clearly, Mamma had been bending his ear about something.

  “Goodness! Why are all the young people congregating here in the corner?” Mamma asked with a mien so fierce she looked like a bird of prey. The effect was enhanced by her dark hair with its dramatic streaks of white at the temples. “My dears, this is hardly polite to the rest of our guests, is it?”

  Her hawklike gaze fell upon her daughters. “You mustn’t keep Captain Gilbride and Mr. Beaumont all to yourselves, girls. And you, Evelyn, have quite abandoned William. Is that any way to treat an old friend?” She cast a treacly smile at Will, who looked distinctly nonplussed.

  And no wonder, since her mother’s reformation when it came to Will constituted a stunning reversal.

  Michael and Gilbride had risen to their feet at Mamma’s approach. The captain spread his arms wide, giving his hostess a wry and enormously appealing smile. When Eden sucked in a startled breath, Evie darted a glance her way.

  Her twin had gone rather pale, as if she’d just received a nasty surprise. Evie made a mental note to ask her about it when the party was over.

  “Ah, Lady Reese, you must put the blame on me,” Gilbride said in a voice of rueful apology. “I’ve been having a wee chat with Mr. Beaumont and the ladies, monopolizing their attention. You must allow me to make amends. Simply command me, and I am yours.”

  Mamma was not entirely immune to the captain’s charms. She slapped him lightly on the arm with her fan and let out a surprisingly youthful laugh. “Save your flirtatious ways for the younger generation, my dear captain. Your wiles will not work on me. In any event, it is not up to you to entertain the other guests. My daughters should be exerting themselves in that regard instead of tucking themselves away in a corner.”

  Or, daughter, as the case may be, Evie thought. Predictably, her mother’s gaze jumped to her, signaling that she was the target of her ire, not Eden. She braced herself for another lecture about neglecting her old friend Will.

  “Actually, I’m to blame for monopolizing Captain Gilbride’s attentions,” Michael swiftly interposed, “and I do apologize. The good captain had some questions about the work we do at St. Margaret’s, and I thought to enlighten him—with Miss Evelyn’s assistance, of course.”

  He gave Mamma a sweet smile, one Evie thought no less charming than Gilbride’s and a great deal more sincere. The dear man was trying to draw her mother’s fire away from her, but she knew with a sinking heart that it would only make things worse. Unfortunately, he either didn’t understand or didn’t care, because he chattered away as if Mamma wasn’t glaring at him with poorly concealed antipathy.

  “I tend to get carried away with enthusiasm when discussing my work,” Michael said cheerfully, “so you must place all the blame on me and not your daughters.”

  The stiff, square set of Mamma’s shoulders now reminded Evie more of a scarecrow than a bird of prey—one that would soon come down off its peg and chase them around the room.

  “Really, Mr. Beaumont,” her mother snapped, “I hardly think a social occasion is the appropriate venue for talking about your work, as you term it. I believe there is no one more charitable than I—”

  She stopped to level her scarecrow gaze on Evie, who hadn’t been able to hold back a small, choking noise.

  “—than I,” her mother repeated. “But I have heard quite enough discussion of those Irish persons that you and my daughter insist on aiding. I really must ask that you refrain from any more talk on that topic whilst under my roof.”

  “And certainly no one can blame you, Lady Reese,” Will smoothly intervened. “As Captain Gilbride has already noted, you must place the blame on us. Mr. Beaumont was simply doing a kindness by answering our questions.”

  Evie, whose stomach was now so twisted she thought it might never unknot itself, dredged up a grateful smile. When Will nodded back, his blue gaze also transmitted a clear warning message.

  Stay out of it.

  “Your generosity is commendable, William,” Mamma said, sounding like she didn’t think it commendable at all. “But Mr. Beaumont knows how I feel about this subject.” She flicked a quick glance in Evie’s direction that seemed full of calculation. “And I must insist he not raise the issue again, or he will no longer be welcome in my house.”

  As it so often did when she was annoyed, Mamma’s voice rose to the level of a clarion call, drawing the eyes of several guests. Evie stared at her, aghast, and with a mounting anger that her mother could be so rude. Even though she understood how little Mamma cared for Michael, her behavior this evening had been mean-spirited and beyond the pale.

  “Mamma, that’s hardly fair.” Evie barely could speak past a throat gone tight with anger. “Michael is the soul of charity, and he doesn’t deserve your disapprobation.”

  Eden hissed out a breath and squeezed her hand in warning, but Evie was too furious and too humiliated to heed the signal. She was used to her mother needling her, too often embarrassing her in public. But to attack Michael directly—the kindest man Evie had ever met—seemed to tap into a foul brew of shame and resentment she could no longer repress.

  “I think it’s simply awful the way you treat him, and I won’t stand for it a minute longer,” Evie exclaimed, barely registering the appalled looks on the faces of the others. She only had eyes for her mother, whose features turned as hard and unforgiving as a basilisk’s.

  “Do not deign to lecture me, my girl,” her mother said. “I will not stand for it.”


  Evie jumped to her feet, anger propelling her upward. “What are you going to do about it, Mamma? Throw me out to the street?”

  Michael let out a distressed tsk and took her elbow in a gentle grip after he came to his feet. “Evelyn, your mother has every right to decide what topics are suitable for her daughters to discuss. I’m only sorry that I have offended her so deeply.”

  Evie gaped at his apologetic, hang-dog expression, and then shook her arm free. “How can you say that? Her behavior toward you is disgraceful. I simply don’t understand how you can stand there and take it, day in and day out.”

  Will shook his head. “Lady Reese, why don’t you allow me to—”

  “Stay out of this, Will,” Evie warned, jabbing a finger in his direction.

  Much to her surprise, he rolled his eyes and then nodded, as if giving her permission to carry on.

  “Evelyn Whitney, you will not say another word,” her mother rapped out. “If you do—”

  “Goodness me, what a lively discussion,” a cheerful voice interrupted.

  Evie choked back a relieved gasp at the sight of her father’s face popping up behind her mother’s shoulder.

  “Oh, thank God,” Eden muttered.

  “I can only assume you are discussing politics,” Papa said jovially, even though his round, pleasant face was wrinkled with concern. “Really, gentlemen, must we bother the ladies with so dreary a subject?”

  Mamma turned an offended gaze on her husband. “My dear sir, if you only knew—”

  “Yes, my love, in a moment,” Papa interrupted, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  Mamma pressed her lips into a tight line, clearly choking on the hasty words she’d been about to utter. Evie’s father was a mild, genial man who rarely intervened with his wife and children, or interfered in the domestic affairs of the household. But on the infrequent occasions when he felt called upon to do so, Mamma had always known better than to contradict him.

  “Evie,” Papa continued, giving her a warm smile, “I’ve been telling Lord Templeton about that edition of Gulliver’s’s Travels I recently acquired. Would you please fetch it for me from the library?”

  In the wake of her father’s timely intervention, Evie’s anger began to drain away, replaced by horror as soon as she realized how thoroughly she’d embarrassed herself. She loathed making scenes and calling attention to herself, and yet she’d behaved just as rudely as her mother. All she could do was nod in response to her father’s request, pathetically grateful that he’d given her a means of escape.

  “Take your time, my girl,” her father added.

  “I’ll go with her,” Eden piped up, rising to take Evie’s hand.

  “You will stay with your mother,” Papa said. His mild tone nonetheless brooked no opposition. “Now, go on, Evie. As I said, take your time.”

  “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.

  She couldn’t bring herself to look at Michael. He must think her as great a shrew as her mother. But she did cast an involuntary glance at Will as she brushed past him. The sympathy and worry etched on his face almost made her burst into tears.

  Blinking rapidly to clear her vision, she walked at a moderate pace toward the door. The room seemed enormous as she passed the other guests, all looking at her with gazes mingling sympathy and amusement. Thank God they were intimate friends of the family and knew very well that Mamma was not averse to raising her voice in company. Still, there would be no avoiding some gossip and teasing as a result of their quarrel, especially since it involved Michael. It would be a long time before Evie’s mother forgave her for that, and there would be consequences. That was doubly unfortunate, since Michael already had enough enemies in the ton—people who would be only too eager to tarnish his name. She felt sick with shame at her mother’s mean-spirited behavior and at her own lapse in good manners.

  But Evie couldn’t help wishing Michael would defend himself just once when Mamma treated him with such disdain. Though he could be passionate about the things he believed in, it irked her no end that he wouldn’t stand up for himself when he became the target of insults. Tonight seemed little different from the incident at the Duchess of Campworth’s ball, when Evie had been forced once more to come to his defense.

  Then, again, why did she have the right to expect anything different from Michael when she rarely stood up for herself?

  Finally, she reached the wide double doors. Their senior footman opened them, casting her a slight, sympathetic grimace. Evie forced a wan smile, grateful for his kindness but embarrassed that even the servants felt sorry for her.

  She paused in the hallway, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks as she wondered what to do. Neither Papa nor Eden—nor Michael—would be annoyed if she didn’t return to the party. In fact, they probably expected her to scurry away and hide like she so often did. Telling her to fetch the book had simply been Papa’s way to defuse a nasty situation and allow her to leave the room. Evie knew for a fact that Lord Templeton had no desire to peruse old editions of books, since he only cared about his horses and his next meal. She should just go upstairs, crawl into bed, and wait for Eden to come up and report on how she and their father had smoothed things over. That’s how it usually worked when her mother was angry with her.

  But as she hovered at the staircase, trying to decide whether to go up to her bedroom or down to Papa’s small library, an image of Will’s face, with that warm, accepting look in his eyes, swam in her vision. He hadn’t been the slightest bit embarrassed by the scene and had even seemed to encourage her with that nod of his. More than anyone but Eden, he understood what her mother was like, and he’d told Evie more than once when they were children that she should stand up for herself. That Mamma would respect her more if she did. How ironic was it that she’d given Will the exact same advice about his father the other day? Now, here she stood, on the verge of sounding the retreat.

  Yes, she’d been dreadfully disrespectful to her mother, and she would apologize for that lapse. But this time, she would not bear the fault for causing the scene in the first place, or allow her mother the satisfaction of effectively chasing her away to her room. Evie had done too much running already, and it was past time she stopped responding that way to every little crisis. Because she’d grown up afraid of her mother’s disapproval, she’d learned to fade into the shadows when it came to expressing her true feelings and standing her ground. But she found herself growing heartily sick of retreat, and equally sick of people thinking she was a coward.

  Starting with Will. She’d been a coward with him, too, and she refused to behave that way any longer.

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted up her skirts and marched down the staircase to the library. A small voice in the back of her mind questioned why it was so important to show Will that she wasn’t afraid—not Michael. She knew she should have the courage to face that question head on but told herself there were only so many battles she could fight in one night.

  Determined to ignore—for now—the indisputable and inconvenient fact that she was annoyed with Michael and not annoyed with Will, she opened the door to the library. She paused a few seconds to allow her eyes to adjust, since only an Argand lamp on her father’s desk and a small fire in the grate lit the room. Crossing to the fireplace, she extracted a spill from a brass container and used it to light a wall sconce as well as a branch of candles on the small occasional table next to her father’s reading chair.

  As she started to peruse the shelves for the Swift volume, Evie breathed in the welcome scents of leather, parchment, and her father’s snuff. She loved this room and spent as much time there as she could. Although not nearly as large or well stocked as the library at Maywood Manor, it held a fine collection of poetry, novels, and the classics. At her father’s insistence, the big leather chairs were comfortable rather than fashionable, and the Wilton carpet was plush enough to lounge on in front of the fireplace and while away the afternoon with a book. Most importantly, the library was her
father’s domain, a refuge from her mother’s bothering and fuss.

  She spied the requested book on one of the uppermost shelves and was reaching for it when a slight stir of air fluttered the hem of her dress. A moment later she heard the door close. Sighing, she came down on her heels, knowing her moment of respite was over.

  “Can I help you with that?” His deep voice sent flutters dancing low in her belly.

  As Evie spun around, she almost lost her balance and had to make a grab for one of the shelves. “Wolf,” she exclaimed, startled into blurting out his nickname. “What are you doing here?”

  In the soft light, he did look rather like a wolf. His hair was a rough gold and his high cheekbones and rugged jaw lent a hard, almost fierce, cast to his features. As he prowled across the room, she had to resist the temptation to press a hand over her pounding heart. There was no reason for Will to make her nervous, and she needed to start believing that right now.

  When he stopped just a few inches from where she’d plastered herself against the bookshelves, the slow, devastatingly attractive smile that curled up his oh-so-masculine mouth sent her pulse racing like a runaway horse. He stretched out an arm, resting a big hand on the mahogany shelf next to her head. It effectively caged her in.

  “Why, Evie,” he said in a voice that made her shiver, “I’ve come to see if you need help.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Will braced a hand next to Evie’s head, taking in the sweet flush that gave color to her pale, perfect skin. Her golden eyelashes fluttered as she cast her gaze down toward the vicinity of his feet. When she slowly sucked in a breath, the tops of her generous breasts lifted in tempting white mounds over the modest neckline of her dress. All he had to do was dip his head and he could easily trail his tongue across that glorious expanse of feminine flesh.

  Christ.

  What the hell was he thinking? He’d come down here to see how she was, not to seduce her. Eden had lobbied to be allowed to follow her sister, of course, but her father had prevented that with only a few soft-spoken words. Lord Reese rarely threw his weight around in his household, but when he did, everyone paid heed. His lordship had then taken Beaumont off to speak with Lord Templeton and Mr. Garvey, while Lady Reese had commanded Alec and a protesting Eden to join the other guests. She’d sailed away with the two of them in her wake, pointedly leaving Will to his own devices.