by Reid, Stacy
“For you, guv’ner,” he said.
Richard took them, and as if by magic he flicked a coin in the air and the lad caught it with deft stealth. Pleasure settled on the boy’s face when he saw it was a sovereign. Evie was stunned at his generosity, and even more humbled as this repeated itself at least six more times before they reached the stone benches by a small park facing the river. They had procured a basket, questionable meat pies, apples, cinnamon buns, and oranges. The air was unpleasant, but she wouldn’t trade it for an opulent ballroom or a warm, well-decorated parlor. “The children…you are exceedingly kind to them.”
“Someone has to be. Poverty and slums dominate the eastern side of London.”
“Is it more terrible in other areas?”
His lips twitched. “There are badly built tenements. The infrastructure of the buildings is so terrible that they frequently collapse, with entire families being crushed in their beds. Yet increasingly families flock to the city desperately searching for jobs to fill the hungry bellies of their children, despite the poor disposal of waste, which has seen cholera and other diseases laying waste to dozens. Since the war, Evie…” A pained grimace crossed his face. “Since the war, so many children have been left orphans, women widowed, so many soldiers struggling to simply eat because they are unable to find employment. These are some of the grim realities of those who live in London stews. But we…our kind, live with obscene wealth in the opulence and privilege of polite society, completely unaffected by the plight of the poor,” he said, his mouth flattening with unhidden contempt.
Her throat tightened. “Do…you think most of our society are aware such hopelessness exists?” She couldn’t credit it that her mother and her father, whom she loved and respected so dearly, would be aware of the poverty that children slept and died in, and do naught.
“For those who are not aware, they choose to turn a blind eye. I turned a blind eye for years,” he said with a touch of regret and bitterness. “If not for how I found my daughter…I might never have cared about more than my estates, visiting my club, racing, gambling, keeping mistresses, and the general rubbish the young men of the ton indulge in. My time abroad with the army made me see suffering, but I could justify it as being in a war-torn country. This is different and very, very wrong.”
She touched his arm lightly. “Surely you cannot believe so. You gave to charities—”
“I donated thousands, but I found no caring until I met my daughter. These people, Evie, they need more than donations to some charities who may or may not help them. They need people like us, the engines of society, to care and to fight for them. What you saw tonight is only the tip of the desperation and despair blanketing London.”
“I am glad you found your Emily,” she said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever told you that.”
He tipped his head to the overcast sky. “When I located my daughter, she was being forced to pickpocket. And the men who had her tried to sell her to me.”
Evie flinched. “I beg your pardon?”
His mouth was set in a harsh line. “I had to pretend I was buying her…and the other children. The money was taken, and we fled, but the greed and evil in their heart encouraged them to follow us.” Tension stole through Richard, and something dark lurked within his gaze. “If I hadn’t found her, eventually my Emily would have been sent to the streets where she would be forced to sell her body for food, shelter…heat,” he admitted with a bluntness that stole Evie’s breath.
Dear Lord.
“I…” A spasm of pure disgust pierced her. She’d had no notion there were women and children who had to barter their bodies for basic human necessities. Worse, people existed who sold children. Once again, tears threatened to spill. “I cannot comprehend such a life.”
He began to absently stroke her arm, providing a comfort she’d not realized she craved.
“Is there more? I do not want to wilt from it. Please tell me.”
“There are many slums with women, men, and children sleeping in alleys and gutters. Homes that have never seen any heat in winter, a single room housing a family of ten or more, children working as pickpockets for those who run the underworld. Children working in factories and as chimney cleaners. Many have no recourse to doctors, hospitals, clean water, or good food. The country is in desperate need of political reform. It is Parliament and the House of Lords that rule Britain and leave those vulnerable to the clutches of ruthless and depraved men of London’s underworld. They are exploited and abused at every turn by the predators of the slums.”
“And you want to rescue them?”
“I want to offer a solution.”
She could hardly comprehend such a world existed only a few miles from the opulent mansion she resided in. A stiff wind blew from off the Thames, and Evie shivered, chafing her hand over her arms.
“Come here.”
Lifting a brow, she moved closer. He shrugged from his coat and bundled her into its wonderful warmth. If they were to be spied by someone of the ton, she would be irrefutably ruined. The notion now seemed so ridiculous it brought a smile to her lips.
“Let’s walk. It will help with the cold.”
They stood and strolled in silence toward the carriage. She pondered his words while his unfathomable gaze roamed the streets in that newly calculating manner of his. He had always seemed to her to be in possession of a quiet, self-contained power, but now something more volatile, more ruthless shimmered beneath the surface of the facade he presented to the world. The years of their easy banter and long walks together rushed through her thoughts. She could not believe that man still existed within him.
Was she foolish in her desire to wed him, when he was so changed from the man she had once thought she understood?
Chapter Six
Richard assisted Evie into the parked carriage, tapped on the door, and the equipage lurched into motion. The carriage rocked and swayed, taking her away from the cold, ugly streets of London. He pulled the blinds tightly closed so her presence within his carriage would not be noted by any of London’s gossips. Settling into his seat, he leaned forward and skimmed his thumb over the curve of her cheeks so tenderly a lump formed in her throat.
“Thank you for caring, Evie. I never expected you to visit this side of town, but I am damned glad you came.”
He lowered his hand, and she felt bereft of his warmth. “I’m glad, too. I’ll do everything in my power to gain interest for your charities.” There had never been a worthier employment for her intellect and time. She could not imagine how to start and hoped that at least conversations with the right ear would open doors. “I’d intended to call upon Adel this afternoon. I’m aware she’s become patron to several underfunded charities. I’ll take directions from her on where to start.”
His eyes glowed with approval and something far gentler that she was unable to interpret. “Why are you veiled?”
“I’d had the notion of paying you a call after I visited Adel.”
A dark brow lifted. “Without your mother or Elliot?”
Heat warmed her cheeks. “Hence the reason for the veil.”
“In the past, you sent around notes.”
“I never promised to be predictable.”
Richard leaned against the squabs with his hands folded casually across his middle. “Did something happen?”
“Yes. I’m to be married,” she said softly. “I fear I cannot escape the state any longer.”
Shock had glazed his eyes before he lowered his lids. He did not lift his head until he was composed and aloof. Evie hid her smile. She had seen that flare of discomfort, but she did not allow it to give her too much hope; her change of heart would have rattled anyone.
“I see, and when is the happy occasion?” he asked with a heavy dollop of sarcasm.
“According to Papa, I am to be engaged within the next few weeks.”
Some raw, visceral emotion leaped into Richard’s eyes, and they burned with a fire she hardly understood. His eye
s dropped to her stomach. “Are you with child?”
A gasp of disconcertion escaped her. “No! How could you suggest such a thing of my honor?”
“I cast no aspersions on your person. It is natural for those who are foolish enough to believe they are in love to be intimate before marriage. I simply thought you had succumbed to someone’s charm.”
“I did not,” she snapped, cheeks flaming.
“Then why the haste? Most young ladies are engaged for at least six months,” he enquired coolly, his eyes as watchful and piercing as a hawk.
“Papa is in enormous debt.”
“That’s his burden, not yours.”
“Isn’t it? I’ve always known my sole value to the family was to make a match that would elevate them. I’ve avoided it for years because I wanted to choose my own husband. Perhaps I was naive, blind to the realities of life. We ladies of high society do not truly get to choose. We’ve already had to let go staff who desperately needed employment, and Papa is planning to raise the rents on our tenants who already struggle to pay. My marriage will not only benefit me.”
His gaze hooded even further. “I never thought you would have been so composed at the notion of marriage. You have been dodging suitors for years.”
“Unsuitable ones.”
“Ah…and is this new beau suitable in your eyes?”
“It appears he is exactly what my family needs,” she said softly.
He stiffened. “I see. Permit me to ask his name.”
“Viscount Ponsby, and according to Mamma, he has fifty thousand pounds a year. And if I do not choose Lord Ponsby, any other rich and titled gentleman will do. A ball is to be held in three days’ time, and all the eligible bachelors of the season have been invited. Mamma is quite determined to see me affianced in a few weeks.”
Richard’s eyes glinted with deep cynicism. “I liked you better when you spouted your nonsense about only marrying for love. I never thought you would become mercenary like those other ladies of society.”
Evie smiled. “I’m glad you feel so, and quite relieved, too.”
He arched a brow and folded his arms across his chest, affecting a casual pose. “I do not understand, but I am sure you will need little encouragement to inform me. I’m listening carefully.”
“There is another gentleman I would prefer to marry, not because of his wealth but because I…I admire him deeply. Sadly he is not of the same persuasion.”
“Then he is a damn fool.”
She nodded. “I agree. The problem is I do not think he notices me as a woman. My aim is to secure his attention…as a woman.”
Richard blinked…and then blinked again, an arrested expression settling on his face. He lowered his arms slowly and leaned forward. “Exactly what do you mean?”
“I’ve decided to get him to notice me, and if I successfully capture his attention in the next few weeks and secure an offer from him, then I can cry off from Lord Ponsby.”
Richard considered her intently, and she worked to prevent herself from fidgeting under the cunning intelligence glaring at her.
“And how do you intend for him to notice you as a woman?”
She wetted her lips, a nervous reaction to her scandalous plans, and his eyes tracked the movement. “That is where I shall rely on your expertise. I’ve spent so many years discouraging suitors, I have no notion how to attract one. How do I capture his interest and hold it? How do I tempt him to kiss me? How do I entrance him so he will dance with me at balls, walk with me in the park, send me letters and poems?”
“I believe I know where you are heading and the answer is no.”
“Oh, Richard, you haven’t even heard my request.”
His jaw clenched, and he was gripping the edge of the seat. “Evie—”
“Teach me,” she breathed boldly, sliding forward on her seat. “How do I kiss…how do I ensnare his regard? You are my friend. I quite believe you are honor bound to tutor me.”
“Evie—”
“I need lessons in seduction.”
“Bloody hell. If you must work to ensnare your gentleman’s regard, he is a bloody fool,” Richard said gruffly. “You are beautiful, Evie. Clever, witty, and kind. He should be damn well fortunate you would consider him.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Who is this idiot?”
You, my darling. “I would rather not say.”
“Why in damnation not?”
“I already know you are going to investigate Ponsby, as you did all the other suitors who have approached me over the years. I would…prefer you not to do so with my secret gentleman.”
“And if I gave you my word?”
“I will still be directed by my desires and withhold his name from you.”
“And what makes you think I have any notion of what in God’s name you must do to attract this buffoon?”
Evie couldn’t help laughing. “Rumors say you’ve had various lovers—actresses, famed courtesans, ladies belonging to high society and ladies of questionable morals. Surely you have some idea of how they caught you so thoroughly?”
“Perhaps it was I who caught them,” he said with some amusement and with such arrogant superiority she wanted to slap him.
She settled with an inelegant shrug. “Unquestionably it was mutual.”
“And what do I get from this?”
“You get to make a dear friend the happiest of women.”
After a pulse of silence, he responded, “And that is all the incentive I need.”
A wide smile split her face, and he sucked in a harsh breath. Evie pushed out her hand for him to shake. He held her palm lightly. “Then we have a bargain. You will teach me how to kiss properly, in secret of course, how to flirt, and you will attend balls and dance with me so that he can be dreadfully jealous.”
Richard shook her hand. “I may be present at a few balls, I may dance with you, I may give you meaningful insight on how to attract this unmitigated idiot, but there will certainly be no kisses.”
It was something, Evie conceded grudgingly, but not quite what she needed. “And why no kisses?”
The air tightened with an unexpected tension, and the pulse jumped in her throat.
“That would be too dangerous.”
“You have kissed me before.”
A powerful heat flared in the depth of his gaze. “That has no bearing on how we must go forward now. And those kisses were chaste.”
“Chaste? You’ve intrigued me, Richard. I quite thought at the time they were illicit and daring. Are you suggesting there is more?”
He narrowed his gaze in warning.
She pursed her lips, trying not to smile. “You would prefer I seek someone else’s tuition for lessons on how to kiss properly?”
“Good Christ, I implied nothing of the sort.”
“Without lessons in the art of delicate seduction, I am certain I am to muck it up. The very idea is intolerable.”
“Evie…”
He swallowed, at an apparent loss for words as she moved to sit beside him. She quite liked ruffling the feathers of a man of the world like Richard. Acting on pure feminine instinct, she lifted the veil from her face and lightly kissed the firm side of his jaw. Her heart pounded an exhilarating yet terrifying tempo. When he didn’t shift from her tentative exploration, her anxiety lessened, and her curiosity increased. How far could she tempt him? “Perhaps we should attempt a lesson now…that way you can plan how thorough your lessons need to be.”
“I’m of a mind to turn you over my knees and redden your backside. Perhaps then you’d act with more sense,” he replied, his voice quiet, too soft, dangerous.
“Is it wanton to admit the thought of your hand on my backside is shamefully appealing?” she teased, even as a bolt of heat shot through her.
With a harsh groan, he tugged her closer, their lips scant inches apart. “You are a babe at the game you’re attempting to play. If only you knew how easy it would be for you to be devoured, I wonder, my dear Evie, if you would
then tread with more caution.”
Sudden nerves erupted in her stomach. “Richard, I—”
He swallowed her words. Oh. His kiss was so gentle, quite at odds with the manner in which he held her, as if he wanted to push her down on the cushions and ravish her. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and stroked over it with his tongue. A hungry whimper broke from her throat. He pulled his lips from her. “Dammit, I truly cannot… I am holding on by a mere gossamer thread. I desire you too much.”
He desires me? “How long?” she breathed. “How long have you wanted me?”
“Six years,” he ground out, his eyes flashing with dangerous fire. “If I ever kiss you again, I will take you, consequences be damned. I’m not the man you knew, Evie. I’m not bound by society’s rule of conduct and their vague notions of honor. I have my own code…immoral to most, and there are days I question my character.” His hands tightened on her hips. “I will not be persuaded to a union because I take what you are freely offering.”
She raised trembling fingers to touch his beautiful mouth. It physically hurt to crave him so much. “I’ve been waiting in agony and hope for your kisses. Foolish and reckless of me, but at this moment, I do not want to be dutiful…not now.”
He brushed the lightest of kisses across her mouth. Her lips tingled and burned. His taste was evocative. He bit gently into her bottom lip, and she whimpered.
He swore violently, and then he plundered. Oh God. He stole the air from her lungs and turned her thoughts to mush as he claimed her mouth in another kiss. He took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently, teasing her lips to part with soft nibbles and hot, urgent kisses. With a moan, Evie opened her mouth, and his tongue thrust boldly in to tangle with hers.
They parted, breathing raggedly. “I could taste you forever and not want anything else to sustain me.”
Her breath hitched at his fervent whisper. His fingers trailed to her jaw, where he cradled her cheeks in his palms and stole her breath with another kiss. He alternately savored and consumed. She sighed deeply. The drugging heat of his kiss couldn’t be denied, and she responded to his sensual mastery helplessly. Each nip and kiss went deeper, lingered longer, became wetter, more carnal, and enmeshed her heart even more.