The Perfect Suitor (Bewildering Love Series)

by Hilden, L. A.

  “Well, it is about time you returned home. Really, dear, must you stay out this late? I suppose you were glorying in your bachelor ways, free of responsibility.” His mother referred to the responsibilities held by a husband and a father. Lord knew she never included the duties he performed daily as the patriarch of their family. She came forward, her pink wrapper tied around her slim waist.

  Paxton felt like telling her that running the estates was all the responsibility he cared to have, but he didn’t. It was a useless argument, one they had every time they were near each other. Right now he had more important things on his mind. He stood there as she wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug and he bent to kiss her cheek. When she backed up, he looked down at her with a blank expression.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Veronica stood staring at her imposing son. He was much larger than his father had been. “I do wonder where you get your height.” When he didn’t respond, she studied his features. “You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  “Sorry, Mother. I don’t have time for idle conversation.”

  “Idle conversation?” Veronica sputtered in offense.

  “Nor do I have time to argue. Someone I know is in trouble and I have to help.”

  “The lightskirt who shoved her way into your home? Is this who you must help? Really, my son. You must be more discerning of the company you keep.”

  “She’s not a lightskirt! And how did you know I was speaking of her? Did she tell you she was in trouble? Where did she go?”

  Veronica shrugged as if she didn’t care what her son’s interest was with this woman, but that was far from the truth. She’d never seen Paxton behave with more than calm nonchalance toward any woman, well, aside from Lady Beverly, but that crazy woman didn’t count. It was Veronica’s responsibility to see that her son was married and providing her with grandchildren. “You obviously care for the girl. Who is she?”

  As his mother, she knew her son was quickly losing his patience with her in spite of his efforts to remain calm. What kind of girl is he involved with this time?

  “Answer me first,” he all but ordered.

  Veronica sighed at her son’s impatience. He seemed to care for this woman, and she decided to test him to see how deep his feelings ran. “If you must know, her dress was in tatters and she had a scared look about her. Fortunately, I don’t know where the little gypsy went. Perhaps to the house you keep her in. And not that I should have to tell you this, but it is not at all proper for her to visit you here. I mean, for goodness sakes, Paxton, what kind of message are you sending your sister? I think…”

  “I’m close to throttling you, Mother. She is not my mistress and I ask that you not debase her further with your words. She is Lady Evelyn Manning, exactly whom she claimed she was. You should be ashamed for tossing her out onto the street when it was clear she was in trouble. You had best hope nothing has happened to her.” Paxton grabbed his cloak and gloves from James’ hands and left.

  “It seems my son cares about this Lady Evelyn,” Veronica informed the butler with a joyful smile.

  ***

  When Henri finally reached the small expensively furnished home he’d been living in these past months, he hefted Eve over his shoulder like a sack of grain and dumped her on the parlor sofa.

  She landed with a thump. “You almost snapped my neck!”

  “Too bad I didn’t. It would serve you right.” Henri glared at her and smiled when she tried to sink further into the cushions of the couch.

  She watched silently as he turned, and with his back to her, fixed them both a drink. “Here.” He shoved a filled glass at her. At her questioning glance, he replied, “Lemonade.”

  “And how am I supposed to drink it?” Eve asked holding up her bound hands. She hadn’t been able to escape the vehicle tied as she was, and she certainly could not hold a glass. She could smell the lemons though, and she was so thirsty her mouth was watering. All the screaming she had done calling out for help had left her parched. Her throat was scratchy and she had yelled herself hoarse. Sadly, no one came to her rescue, but all the people she had seen were yelling back at her, which was most peculiar.

  “I see your dilemma.” Henri untied her and then pulled out his shiny pistol. “I wouldn’t try anything cute if I were you.”

  Eve said nothing as she took the glass and gulped down the contents.

  ***

  Henri grinned wickedly. He had thought Lady Evelyn might refuse the beverage. His plan was going far more smoothly then he had imagined. Soon the opium he put in her lemonade would take effect, and then she would be out of his way for the evening. By the time she woke to share her story, Henri planned to be long gone. “So, during my search to find you, the streets were buzzing with good news. Napoleon has marched into Paris, again holds the throne, and war has commenced,” Henri gloated, taking her empty glass.

  “You’re a liar!”

  Henri laughed. “No. I shall be leaving soon to join him on the battlefield.”

  “Then you shall die with him!” Eve spat.

  “I doubt such an occurrence.”

  “If you’re leaving, what are…” Lady Evelyn yawned loudly. “What are you going to do with me?”

  “That’s already taken care of. I only have to sit and wait. I’m sure your champion will arrive to attempt to rescue you.” Henri thought it best to have the Earl of Devonhurst well out of the way before making his escape.

  “My champion?” she asked groggily, her body swaying on the sofa.

  “I witnessed you seeking help from the Earl of Devonhurst’s household. Lucky for me he wasn’t at home to take your call. But I have absolutely no doubt he will come looking for you.” Henri smiled as Lady Evelyn’s head slumped forward and she fell into unconsciousness.

  ***

  Paxton’s driver had already retired and he didn’t have time to have him fetched from his bed, and so he ran to the other side of the park where you could often find a hired hack. He knew that, at this time of night, or perhaps it would be better to say in the dark hours before daybreak, finding a vehicle might be difficult. However, luck was with him for on the corner sat a carriage with the driver slumped over, asleep in his seat. After waking the man and promising to pay him double, the carriage raced away toward the Stonehaven residence.

  He knew checking Eve’s house would prove his greatest fears. A quick peek into her bedroom window told him she wasn’t home and her bed had not been slept in. Fear filled him, for he had no idea where to look for her. The only thing he could do was search for Count Vernon. He yelled at the driver to hurry as they headed to the house Count Vernon was renting. At least Paxton had pried some useful information about Henri from Cole. He prayed she wasn’t with Henri, but he had a sickening feeling that she was and so he prayed Eve was safe.

  He had the driver stop down the street and then walked the rest of the way so as not to alert the Frenchie of his arrival. He creeped around the periphery of the house, stopping to try to open a window when he came to one, but they were all locked tight and some even had bars. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary inside. He noticed one room was alight with candles, and when he peered in the window he saw Count Vernon sitting on a leather chair, seemingly in relaxed contemplation.

  ***

  Henri sat patiently awaiting the earl’s arrival. He had already placed the unconscious Lady Evelyn on the bed in the back room. He never heard Lord Devonhurst, but he felt his presence and knew without a doubt that the earl was in the house.

  He crossed to the parlor’s wooden door. Lifting a heavy iron candelabra above his head, Henri waited. He was going to leave the front door open for the earl, but he felt the lord might become suspicious by such a move, and so instead he left the back entrance easily accessible by jamming the lock so that the door appeared locked when it
wasn’t. He watched silently as the door handle slowly turned. When the large figure moved into the entranceway, Henri brought the candelabra down upon the earl’s head.

  The Earl of Devonhurst crumpled to the floor. Henri bent down and tied the earl’s hands together, then dragged him down the hall toward the room that held Lady Evelyn. “Naturally, you’d have to be such a large man.” Henri struggled with the earl’s weight and the awkwardness of dragging him, when the earl’s head bounced off a few walls on the way, Henri said, “Serves you right for messing with the French. Not very wise thinking you could outwit one of Napoleon’s Lègion d’honneurs.”

  Upon unlocking the door and entering the room, Henri was happy to find Lady Evelyn still unconscious on the bed. He was also gladdened by the fact that the owners of this house were elderly and thus thought it necessary for safety’s sake to have bars put on the small window. Not only did the bars keep intruders out, but they also kept people inside. He was sweating profusely but he managed to drag the earl to the bed and hefted him up onto the mattress next to Lady Evelyn so he could tie the man’s hands to the wooden bedpost.

  “There. Now you two can’t do any harm.” Henri took one last look around the small room before he closed and locked the door. To give himself more assurance that they’d stay put for a while, he tied a rope from the door handle to the bedroom door handle opposite in the hall. Satisfied they would not be able to get out for some time, he hastily made his escape.

  ***

  By one o’clock in the afternoon, Madeline felt it time to wake her daughter from her overlong sleep. “She is too young to be sleeping the day away,” she informed her husband Charles as she left the sitting room.

  She knocked on Eve’s door. “Rise and shine, sleepy head.” The viscountess stepped into the room and gasped in shock to find her daughter’s bed perfectly made. She pulled the bell cord beside the bed, wondering where her daughter had disappeared to. Did Eve have plans this morning she didn’t mention? Wouldn’t I have noticed her leaving the house? Are any of the maid’s missing? Surely one of them would have escorted Eve on her morning errand.

  Tiffany ran in the room bobbing a curtsy. “Yes, milady?”

  “What time did my daughter leave this morning?”

  Tiffany looked at the bed and by the look on her face Madeline knew that she thought the same thing she obviously had but was clearly too scared to voice her suspicion aloud.

  “I have been busy laundering Lady Evelyn’s clothes, milady. I find it peculiar that her bed is made, especially when she knows today is the day I change the bedding.”

  “Are you telling me you haven’t seen Eve today?”

  “No, milady. I haven’t seen her since I readied her for the party last night.” Tiffany’s mouth formed a circle. “You don’t think something untoward happened to Lady Evelyn?”

  “No, no, of course not,” Madeline said, reassuring herself as well as the maid. Her heart began to race. “I’m sure Charles saw her, or Beatrice.” Beatrice was Madeline’s personal maid. “Beatrice is probably the one who made up Evelyn’s bed.” Madeline didn’t want the help gossiping about her daughter’s whereabouts. This kind of scandal would destroy her daughter’s chances for marriage. Oh dear Lord!

  “I’m sure you are correct, madam,” Tiffany agreed, although her tone said she didn’t believe such a thing for a second.

  Madeline dismissed Tiffany and then opened Eve’s wardrobe to see if she noticed any missing clothing. As far as she could tell, the wardrobe looked like it did every day. Why did I not try to wake her earlier? “You better have a good reason for this, young lady,” she scolded the room as if she were talking to Eve.

  Immediately the Earl of Devonhurst came to mind, but the viscountess quickly dismissed him from thought. After all, Eve wouldn’t throw her life away to become some man’s mistress, no matter how tempted she was… Doubt crept into Madeline’s head and it dawned on her that Eve had attended last night’s function with the count, which made her feel a little relief. Eve didn’t seem to carry strong feelings toward the count, as far as Madeline could tell. Was her daughter in danger? What if she was hurt? Madeline was becoming ill from the horrid images that came to mind. “Charles!” she shouted as loud as she could for her husband.

  ***

  The Viscount of Stonehaven was reading the London Times when he heard his wife yell and he jumped off the couch, throwing his paper on the table. “What has she done?” he asked himself about Eve, knowing Madeline had gone to check on her. He took the stairs two at a time, reaching the bedchamber in seconds. “What is it?” he questioned, running into the room.

  Madeline pointed at the made bed. “She didn’t sleep here last night, Charles. Where could she be?” His wife removed her large purple-and-white polka-dot turban with shaky hands.

  “Try to relax, dear.” Charles stared at his daughter’s empty bed in astonishment. Evelyn was an intelligent young lady, and he knew she would never purposely cause her family angst. “I’m sure there is a logical explanation.” He held out his arms to comfort his wife.

  “Of course, you’re right. Evelyn is bright. I’m sure she is fine. She probably decided to stay with a friend because…” She looked up at Charles. “Now why would she do that?”

  Charles’ head was swimming with thoughts, and although his wife often referred to Eve as a child, the truth of the matter was that she was a grown woman. “We need to retrace her steps.”

  “Should we call the authorities?” Madeline asked, backing out of his embrace.

  “Not yet. I will send a note to the count asking him of her whereabouts.”

  “And if he doesn’t know?” They both left the room to make some inquiries. Madeline threw her turban into their room as they passed and followed Charles downstairs.

  ***

  Paxton woke with a throbbing headache to find his hands tied tightly to a bedpost above his head. He yanked but couldn’t break the bonds or the wooden post. He turned on the bed and was relieved to find Eve sleeping peacefully beside him. He was shocked to see her lying there, but then this entire scene was beyond his imagination. At least she is safe.

  What the hell happened? He wondered if the count had whacked her over the head as well. He was grateful that her hands weren’t tied. Now he merely had to wake her so she could untie him and he could free them from this place. He cursed himself for his first effort to save her failing miserably. He was lying on his back, and he slid his leg over to nudge her. He watched as she smiled with her eyes still closed. “Eve? Eve, my love, wake up.”

  She smiled at him dreamily again and his patience snapped. “Eve, damn it to hell! Wake up!” Paxton hollered. When she opened her eyes and smiled again, he realized something was wrong with her. She was looking at him but he could swear she wasn’t seeing him. It was as if she looked through him, and her pupils were enormous. When her hand reached over to caress his chest like an intimate lover, he froze.

  “Eve, love, wake up please,” he coaxed gently. “What did Henri do to you?” he asked, knowing she might not respond. Evidently Henri had thought it necessary to drug her. The bleeding bastard!

  “You are so pretty,” she purred, running a finger down his cheek.

  Pretty? Ah, hell!

  ***

  Eve sat up and looked at Paxton. She was so happy they were alone together that she clapped her hands in glee. He was perfect, and although he scrunched his nose when she called him pretty, it was nothing less than the truth. He was pretty, and strong, and masculine with his muscles rippling beneath a thin lawn shirt. Her dream was so vivid she could even smell him: shaving soap, man, and bourbon all mixed together to form the headiest bouquet imaginable.

  In her dream, she had tied him up so he was completely at her mercy. The unattainable earl couldn’t run from her explorations. What a wonderful, inventive imagination I have. She
planned to take advantage of his helplessness. Aretino’s engravings came to mind. Remembering one of the interesting sexual poses, Eve pulled up her dress, and clumsily climbed on top of the earl, straddling his hips. She slowly began to pull up his shirt, teasing herself as she exposed his stomach and chest inch by delicious inch. Her hands seemed to not operate as they were supposed to, though. She was unable to move the shirt up over his arms because they were tied to the bed. Imagining herself with super human strength, she grabbed the v of the shirt and pulled, ripping the fabric so that she could toss the halves open. She sighed happily when his body was exposed to her view.

  This is the best dream ever. Paxton’s well-formed torso was now exposed for her pleasure. She ran her fingers through the light sprinkle of hair on his chest, bringing her head down to place kisses over his honed muscles, circling his dark brown nipples with the tip of her tongue.

  ***

  Paxton moaned as he tried to squirm away from Eve’s intimate exploration of his body. Despite his demand for it not to, his cock hardened instantly beneath her. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He was powerless to stop her. “Eve, wake up this instant!” he demanded, and then he sucked in his breath as she laved one of his nipples with her tongue. He yanked again on his bonds, but it was to no avail. In fact, they seemed to tighten, cutting into his wrists. She seemed oblivious to him squirming beneath her, and his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

  Briefly, he wondered if Henri was going to enter the room and find them like this, with him helplessly tied to a post and half-clad with Lady Evelyn Manning undulating on top of him. But then, he had yelled loudly at Eve to wake her, which surely would have brought the Frenchman rushing forth. The house was silent with the exception of Eve and himself. He assumed the count had left for France. For Eve’s sake, considering her wanton behavior, he hoped this was true. She’d likely be appalled if she were even slightly coherent enough to understand what she was doing.