“Very well, actually. Ever since Mary suggested the healer. Mary—that is Edward’s new wife, you know, who I think you would adore.”
“I’ve heard nothing but good about her. We talked briefly at Audrey’s wedding and I did very much like her. She is not at all like Alice.”
Both of them shuddered at once. “No,” Evan agreed. “Edward’s second wife is nothing like his first. And that is all the more to recommend Mary to us.”
“Tell me more about the healer,” Josie said. “She is very pretty.”
“Is she?” Evan said, his gaze darting to her in what seemed like true surprise.
Josie shook her head. “Oh, please. It is an undeniable fact that Miss Gray is lovely. I’m surprised you haven’t found your way to cornering her in the billiard room.”
The moment she said those words, she wished she could take them back. First, they brought up a subject she was trying to ignore, but also because she now wondered if Evan, indeed, had done that already with the pretty, auburn-haired healer. Josie couldn’t possibly be special in that regard.
Evan turned her to with a frown. “I’m not exactly in the habit of doing that, Josie. Certainly I have no interest in doing it with Miss Gray.”
“Oh,” Josie said, both embarrassed and secretly pleased with his answer. “Well, at any rate, I was just saying she was pretty and wondering what you thought of her.”
“She seems a nice enough girl, though for all the time she spends in our home with our mother, she speaks mainly to Gabriel, rather than me. And she saved our mother’s life, so we must all like her.”
“Was it truly so dire?” Josie whispered, trying to picture her own life without her mother. She would really have no one at that point, since she wasn’t close to her siblings. Oh, one of them would take her in, she supposed. But it wouldn’t be out of love, but duty.
“Very,” Evan said, all humor gone from his voice. “When we first arrived from London, I think she was on death’s door. It was…horrifying.”
Josie reached out and covered his hand with hers. His gaze slipped down to her hand before he looked at her face, and she caught her breath. He wanted to kiss her. She recognized it now, that heavy-lidded expression.
Worse, she wanted him to do it.
But he didn’t. Instead, he moved to stare straight ahead, his jaw set, and said, “But we’ve talked about my family more than enough. How is yours?”
Josie pulled her hand back to her lap. It seemed for all his smiles and teases that perhaps Evan regretted what had happened between them. She pushed aside her hurt at that fact.
“Oh, you know. My brother is so busy running everything that he hardly ever calls on us. My sisters are married, with their children and their charities. I suppose they’re all well enough.”
“You were never close to them,” Evan said, a statement not a question.
She shook her head. “No. But they were all so much older. Lydia is the youngest after me, and she is fifteen years older than I am. What could we possibly have in common? I was a surprise youngest child who only served to split the family inheritance further. Why would they want to be close to me?”
Evan frowned. “When Edward was estranged from our family after his first wife’s death, it was terrible. I suppose I have a hard time picturing not being a friend to my siblings.”
“But your family is wonderful,” Josie explained, smiling as she thought of the days she had spent in their company. “Aside from you, I loved spending time with all of them.”
He laughed, and she blushed as she realized what she’d just said to him.
“I didn’t mean—” she began.
“I know what you meant,” he reassured her. “You had a history with me that made it hard to want to be my friend, but with Edward or Gabriel or Audrey or especially Claire, you were welcomed.”
She nodded. “Yes. I felt a part of that circle when I truly needed to be a part of something.”
“Mostly thanks to Claire I would wager since we boys were rather busy being hellions and Audrey was so much younger,” he pressed.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes, Claire was my angel so many times. Without her, I can’t imagine what my childhood would have been like, let alone those awful first few years of my debut.”
For a moment, Evan was silent and shifted beside her in what seemed like discomfort. Then he said, “Do you ever wonder what she suffers now?”
He had brought up the subject of Claire before, and Josie had avoided the subject as much as she could. He was trying to ascertain if Claire had written to her, that much was clear. Josie slid her gaze to his face. His mouth was drawn down and his pain was palpable.
“Evan,” she said softly. “I know you all fear for her. You want her safe return. But…”
She trailed off and he set his jaw. “What do you know?”
She sighed. Of course he would press her on this subject. This one subject she couldn’t discuss. After all, what little Claire had shared with her was private. Knowing it would give Evan no pleasure.
“When Claire is ready to come home, I have to believe she will.” Up ahead she saw a little cottage at the turn in the road and breathed a sigh of relief. “Ah, and here is our first stop.”
Evan continued to frown as he brought the horses to a halt. As he got down and came around the phaeton to help her down, she took a long breath. This day with Evan was unexpected, but as long as they could stay away from difficult subjects and she didn’t make a cake of herself…well, at least she could try to enjoy herself.
Evan watched Josie as she stirred a pot of steaming liquid and smiled at the older woman at the worn kitchen table.
“Mrs. Howard, this sauce smells divine,” Josie said. “Now, what should I add next?”
“You really shouldn’t, my dear,” Mrs. Howard fretted as she smoothed her palms along her well-worn skirts.
“But I insist! I never get a chance to play in the kitchen at home. Cook would have a spell.” Josie laughed. “Shall I add the herbs we chopped earlier?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Howard said. “Then just put the lid on and we’ll let it simmer a while.”
Josie did as she had been asked, smiling and chatting and asking about Mrs. Howard’s children all the while. Evan leaned back to enjoy the show.
He had chosen to horn in on Josie’s day out for two reasons. First, he was under strict orders from Gabriel to obtain information about Claire. That had been a failure, for Josie steered him away from the subject every time he tried to broach it.
The other reason was because he found himself wanting to spend time with her. In that aspect, the day had been a smashing success. Whether it was in his phaeton, rushing around corners just a little too fast so that she squealed in delight, or spending time with her family’s tenants, he had truly enjoyed the afternoon.
And he was beginning to see just how much he had underestimated Josie. At parties she was quiet, the dull bluestocking in the corner. But here her face was full of animation and life and kindness. Her smile was bright and true. And she was absolutely gorgeous.
“Thank you for taking time out of your trip here to call, Miss Westfall,” Mrs. Howard said as Josie rejoined her on the settee. “I am so sorry to miss your mother.”
“Oh, I’m certain Mother will say her hellos another day,” Josie reassured her with another of those kind smiles. “I couldn’t miss my chance, though. I do so love calling on everyone and hearing the news.”
Evan smiled softly. From some women of Josie’s station, those words would be condescending. From her, they were very real. She was very real.
“And to bring Lord Evan.” Mrs. Howard shot him a shy glance. “If I’d known, I would have dressed better.”
“You are lovely,” Evan assured her with a quick wink for Josie.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Josie leapt to her feet and scurried to the basket that Evan had set by the door after their entry nearly an hour before. “You are my last stop of the day and I couldn’
t come empty-handed.”
She held out the bottle and Mrs. Howard’s eyes went wide. “Cordial!” she cried, taking the offering.
Josie nodded. “Indeed, to make up for all of it I drank over the years when I came calling with my mother and father. I know it isn’t as fine as yours.”
“Oh, I haven’t made mine for so long, but I do adore it,” Mrs. Howard laughed. “This brings back such happy memories.”
“Well, share it with your grandchildren when next they call, and think of me,” Josie said, patting the older woman’s hand. She glanced back at the window. “Oh goodness, the afternoon is flying by. I suppose we should go.”
Evan got to his feet. “We should, indeed, if I am to return you to your mother before she believes you’ve been abducted by gypsies.”
Josie helped Mrs. Howard to her feet and the two women linked arms as Evan led them from the modest cottage. Once outside, Josie squeezed Mrs. Howard’s hand. “Thank you again for your kind hospitality.”
Mrs. Howard smiled before she leaned up and whispered something in Josie’s ear. Josie blushed. “Er, yes. Thank you. Goodbye!”
Evan held out a hand and he saw a flicker of both desire and hesitation in Josie’s eyes as she took it. The spark between them flared as they touched, but the moment she was safely in the high vehicle, she released him, the flame on her cheeks still bright.
“Goodbye,” he said to Mrs. Howard before he climbed up and nickered for the horses to ride on. “What did she say to you?” he asked, watching Josie from the corner of his eye as he urged the horses off the main street and down a little side road.
Josie shook her head. “Oh, it was nothing.”
“Liar, liar,” he taunted softly.
She glared at him. “She just made some comment about your being my…my beau. Which is, of course, patently ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asked, driving them through a tree-lined lane that twisted and turned toward the water in the distance. So far Josie hadn’t seemed to notice their destination. She was too busy picking at her sleeve and trying to avoid eye contact with him.
“Of course,” she whispered. “You are…you. And I’m me.”
“And?”
“And it’s just…silly.”
“Then why am I stopping at the edge of the lake so I can walk with you in private instead of taking you home like an uninterested party would?” he asked.
Her head jerked up and she stared as he brought the horses to a stop. “I—what—Evan?”
He laughed. “A valid argument if ever I heard one.”
She shook her head. “What are you doing?”
“I think I just said what I’m doing,” he said as he climbed down and came around to her side of the rig. He held up a hand, but she just stared.
“Why?” she asked.
He blinked. No woman had ever questioned his motives for pursuit before. But then again, Josie was unlike anyone he’d ever known.
“Because I’ve spent the day realizing just how irresistible you are, Jocelyn Westfall. And I don’t want it to end.”
“Oh,” she whispered. There was another moment of hesitation, then she took his hand and let him help her down from the rig.
He slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and they began to walk toward the lake. He took a side glance at her.
“What did you mean when you said I was me?”
She shrugged. “You know.”
“No, I truly don’t.”
She worried her lip with her teeth before said. “I suppose I mean that you are Evan of the Woodley clan, Lord Evan. Son of a marquis, brother of a marquis! Beyond that, perhaps a little because of that, you are popular and well-liked and beautiful.”
He smiled slightly at the last word, but didn’t address it. “And why is that different from you being you?”
“I was a fat, unattractive girl who everyone made fun of,” she said, a little bitterness in her tone. “And even when I stopped being so very plump, I’m a boring bluestocking who prefers books over people any day of any week. It isn’t that I don’t have friends. I have a very nice circle of friends, your sisters amongst them, but I…I don’t belong with a man like you.”
He caught her shoulders and slowly turned her toward him. “Have you ever noticed that women who are called bluestockings are devilishly smart?”
She smiled through what he now recognized was a rather thick veil of pain. “That is part of the definition.”
“No, I mean they’re intelligent and it threatens those around them. Especially the men who want to believe they have no place understanding history or politics or science or what have you.” He leaned in and stroked a finger along the bridge of her nose, and reveled in how her eyes dilated slightly. “But you see, not every man is threatened by a devilishly smart woman. I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong ones.”
“I agree,” she whispered, breathless.
“You should keep better company,” he continued, even as he lowered his head.
She nodded and tilted her lips to meet his, and once again they were kissing. Just like in the orangery, just like in the billiard room, her lips touching his was like an earthquake through him. Desire struck him with the power he had been trying to convince himself didn’t exist and he was helpless to it as she opened her lips beneath his.
He dove in, taking what she offered and reveling in her taste. Like peaches in summer, like wine that would intoxicate him beyond reason. His arms came tighter around her and he molded her against him as his cock began to swell with need.
He wanted her. In all ways, in the most important way. He wanted her and he realized, with stunning clarity, that the longer they stayed on this path, the harder it would become to resist the siren’s song of claiming her.
He should have cared about that. Cared about her innocence, cared about the consequences should he steal it, but in that moment, he didn’t. He just wanted to give her pleasure and take some of his own.
They sank down together on their knees in the soft grass in front of the lake. He cupped the back of her head and tilted her face for better access as the kiss grew deeper and more heated. She groaned from some deep, primal place and the sound rocked straight to his groin.
He lowered her back in the grass and found his hand moving to cup her breast. She arched at the touch with a gasp of both surprise and pleasure. Her breasts were full and as he stroked one, the nipple grew hard beneath her silky gown. He wanted to see them so badly, to taste them, to strip her bare and prove to her how beautiful she really was.
But that gentlemanly voice inside of him screamed no. Reminded him of consequences before he shut it up again with another deep, passionate kiss.
His hand roamed again, this time to her stomach and then to her thigh. She was squirming beneath him, trying to get closer, breath short against his lips. Finally, he settled his palm between her legs and she groaned low and long.
Even though her skirts and underthings, he felt her heat piercing his palm. He could already imagine it around his cock, squeezing him as he entered her, enveloping him as they became one writhing body seeking nothing but pleasure.
“God, Josie,” he whispered.
She murmured some wordless sound of pleasure as she pushed against his hand, seeking out release he was certain she didn’t quite understand. How easy would it be to flip up her skirts and give it to her? With his fingers, his tongue, his cock? How easy would it be to steal her innocence and replace it with pleasure? Doing that would bind them forever.
And that one errant thought jolted him out of his passion-induced haze. He looked down at her, eyes glazed by passion, lips trembling, body reaching, and he knew that he couldn’t…shouldn’t… destroy her future for one moment of passion.
He rolled away from her and sat up with a frown.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, Josie.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Josie stared up at Evan, not exa
ctly certain what had just happened. He had been kissing her and then he had touched her in those wonderful ways. Her body was on fire, she was trembling with need…
And then he pulled away.
“What?” she whispered.
He got to his feet and paced to the water’s edge as she sat up. Realization hit her, humiliating and clear.
“Oh, I see,” she said softly. “You don’t want me.”
He spun around to face her. “You can’t really think that. God damn it, Josie, look at me.”
He pressed his trousers and she saw the outline of him through the fine fabric. She blushed.
“You might not know what this means, but it means I want you. Very, very much,” he said.
She bit her lip and he let out a groan before he turned his back on her again. Panic struck her. He was going to find a way to end this. He was going to walk away even though he claimed he wanted her and she knew she wanted him. And she didn’t want to lose this.
She struggled to her feet and moved toward him. “Evan…”
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
She shook her head even though he wasn’t looking at her to see it. “No, please, let me say something.”
He let out a long sigh before he turned back to her. His handsome face was very serious, though she saw his gaze flick over her, drink her in. All hope was not lost. “Yes?”
“I’ve read books,” she blurted out.
His brow wrinkled. “I—what?”
“Well, one book,” she corrected. “My father had it in his private study. I was trying to help clean it out after he died and I found the book in this hidden cubby. It had drawings.” She shivered as her mind slid back to those drawings. Those very explicit and arousing drawings of men and women engaged in sex acts. “I couldn’t read the language, but I could look at the drawings. So I’m not as innocent as you think.”
He was still staring at her like he didn’t understand and she fought the urge to stomp her foot. She was ruining everything by blathering and not being clear.
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