by Robyn DeHart
“I shall not apologize for that because I wouldn’t mean it. I wanted to kiss you,” he said.
She said nothing, but her head bobbed against his in a nod.
“I want even more, but it is not mine for the taking.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but he cupped her face, pulled back from her to look into her eyes. “Please don’t offer me anything. I am not so much a gentleman that I won’t take it, and there is no honor left in me to do what is right on the other side of the morrow. Suffice it to say, I shall endeavor to not take liberties with you in the future. Perhaps you can be strong enough for both of us and shove me off you next time I come too near.”
“Bennett,” she whispered.
Beg me to stay.
He kissed her forehead and then forced himself to walk away from her. Seducing Evie would be the worst thing he could do now. His attraction to her was already clouding his ability to do his job appropriately. Potterfield had been right about everything. Getting too close to Evie would prevent him from being able to protect her, and he couldn’t bear it if she was injured again.
“Get some sleep,” he whispered, then he slipped out of her room.
Chapter Nine
I want even more, but it is not mine for the taking.
She sat on the edge of the bed, put her fingers to her lips. They still hummed with his kiss. Evelyn’s mind spun and her heart drummed erratically.
He’d wanted more of her, begged her not to offer herself to him, as if he’d known she had been about to do precisely that. What did she need with her virtue? She had no sentimental reasons to harbor it, save it for some hoped-for love that would rush in and rescue her from her dull life. Besides, hadn’t Bennett done that? Pulled her out of the boredom, the incessant nagging from her well-intentioned mother, saved her from the never-ending discussions on hair ribbons and fabric?
Heat spread through her scalp and down her neck as she remembered the scandalous things she had done with her tongue. She had no idea kissing could be like that. Passionate and…good heavens she’d nearly wrapped her legs around him and climbed him as she’d climbed trees when she’d been but a girl.
She tossed herself back on her bed. It seemed quite clear that Bennett and Potterfield had had some sort of confrontation, and somehow in the midst of that St. Giles offered to take over working with her. Bennett had been jealous, hadn’t he? Hadn’t that been why he’d protested so much about her working with St. Giles? It seemed silly to her that he’d spent a moment worrying about her falling in love with Adrian when it didn’t occur to him to protect her heart from himself. Wasn’t he the true danger to her heart?
She had no desire to spend any time with St. Giles or anyone else. She’d thought of little besides Bennett since she’d first seen him and his impossibly broad shoulders and dark scowling face. She’d actually come to find that scowl of his endearing.
Still, she needed to gather her wits about her. If she was to become a successful authoress, she did not have time in her life for a man. And he’d certainly made it abundantly clear that he had no need, nor desire for a wife.
Be strong for us both, he’d said.
She’d have to do precisely that. If she wanted to be a writer, she’d have to ignore what her body wanted, and focus on her mind. That shouldn’t be too difficult. Certainly that’s what she’d been doing all these years, it was only that Bennett had awakened some sort of hunger inside her and she needed only to quiet it again.
Right now her focus was on the next assignment as Her Majesty. Then eventually she could take the money they’d pay her and buy herself a little cottage somewhere, settle in, and write until her heart’s content.
She’d spent so much time the night before reliving Bennett’s kiss that it had taken until this morning for the anger to surge. While she waited for him to appear, she’d formulated what she’d say to him. So the moment he stepped into the parlor that adjoined the Queen’s bedchamber, she stood and spoke.
“I believe you owe me some answers,” she said before she could run out of courage to do so. She had only been angry a handful of times in her life. Today was one of those times. “I’m not certain why I didn’t bother asking them last night.”
He stopped walking and looked at her.
“Exactly why am I here? Where is the Queen and why is someone trying to hurt her?” Then she put her hands over her mouth. “Oh dear, has she already been killed?” Why had it even taken her so long to ask these questions?
He shut the door behind him, then shook his head. “No, of course not, she is relatively unharmed.”
“Bennett, please, I was told this was to be a simple assignment and I’ve been here longer, and—”
“Yes, I know.” His jaw clinched, the muscles ticked against his cheeks. He was so dashing, it was distracting. “Victoria is healing from a simple fall. She is safe.”
“Yet, I am not.”
He released a long breath. “It is the price we pay.”
“Not me, I didn’t exactly agree to any of this.” She hadn’t realized how much the events of the railway ceremony had affected her until the words left her mouth. The wound at her side stabbed pain through her when she moved her arms. She was frightened, no sense in denying that. She’d been attacked yesterday, nearly killed, or at the very least she could have been killed. “I thought this was a charade, a taste of adventure from my regular life, a little acting for some money.”
“Yes, I realize.” He took a step towards her. “Evelyn,” he said, his voice softening. “None of this was supposed to happen.”
“Look at me, look at all of these things.” She picked up a book from one of the occasional tables. “None of this is mine. I’m not even wearing my own undergarments,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
“But as we discovered earlier, that was helpful in preventing you from being injured worse than you were,” he said.
She shook her head. “That is neither here nor there. The fact is, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by all of this.” She gave him a weak smile. “I’m not certain why it took so long for me to fully grasp all of this.” She sucked in a breath, but it didn’t seem to fill her lungs. “I can’t breathe.”
He took her over to the settee and lowered her down. “Breathe, Evie, all will be well. I will keep you safe, I promise. But if you want to return, I shall bring you home.”
“What of the assignment? I know you fought with Potterfield.”
His brows rose, then he shrugged. “I can handle matters with Potterfield. That being said, I’ve told the other members of the Brotherhood I believe you need to be returned home, but now that you’re injured we would have to explain to your family how you happened to get cut in such an interesting place.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “That is easily enough explained.” Was she ready to return home? She might be frightened, but not so much that she was too scared to stay. “If Her Majesty isn’t healed, then I need to stay until she can return. Do you know when that will be?”
“I do not.”
“Do you know who is trying to hurt her?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know that either, but it is abundantly clear that someone is definitely trying to harm her. Kill her.” He leveled his gaze on her, the weight of his brown eyes was intense, but she did not dare look away. “I am not supposed to discuss such matters with you.”
“Me, specifically, or those who do not work for the Crown? Because, it would seem that for however long I do, in fact, work for the Crown. Temporarily.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “I suppose you’re correct. Excellent argument, by the by.” He was quiet for several moments before he moved to one of the chairs and sat. He motioned for her to do the same. “A few weeks ago, Victoria attended the Royal Ascot where she tripped and fell, injuring herself. Only her ankle, but it prevented her from walking perfectly. And the public already doubts her abilities.”
“So you thought to hide her
whilst she healed.”
He leaned forward, braced his elbows on his knees. “Something like that. Originally we thought to cancel her upcoming events, but then Ellis suggested you.”
“Ever since he first met her, he has said I looked exactly like her.”
“You favor her,” he said with a tight nod, “but there are differences.”
The queen, no doubt, was much prettier with softer features. Bennett had commented on her own wild hair on more than one occasion. Evie stood and walked to one of the windows. She missed being able to go outside whenever she chose. Bennett came to stand behind her; she could see his reflection in the window. “Why did you kiss me yesterday?” She turned to face him. “Is it because I remind you of her?”
A deep line furrowed his brow. “What?”
She shrugged. “I thought that might be why.”
“No, I could never kiss the Queen. That would be most improper.”
He seemed almost insulted she would suggest such a thing, but a stand-in such as herself didn’t present a dilemma. That was the only explanation she could think of. “You are a conundrum.”
“That is doubtful.” He took a step closer to her. “A man does not require a reason to kiss a woman.”
“Well, that is ridiculous. One does not simply go around kissing people because the opportunity presents itself. There must be attraction or desire, or at the very least curiosity.”
He stepped closer, fingered one of the ringlets that had escaped her hairpins. “You have this all figured out.”
“I pay attention to people. They rarely act without first being motivated by something.”
“So those are my three options: attraction, desire, or curiosity?”
She shrugged. “Three possible options.”
“Well, why did you kiss me?”
“Because you kissed me first.”
“So you were being polite?” Again he toyed with the curl by her ear.
She wanted him to kiss her again, but she’d not dare ask for such a thing.
“I meant the first kiss. You leaned up and kissed me, briefly, but a kiss nonetheless. That is the one I was referring to,” he said.
“I…that is…you are irritating.”
He chuckled.
Surprise and something warm and pleasant curled through her belly. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh. I didn’t think you ever did.”
“Everyone laughs on occasion. I reserve it for the moments I find truly humorous.”
“And my finding you irritating does it?”
He shrugged and that combined with his grin gave him a boyish look about him. “Evidently.”
“I’m back to my original assessment of you. A conundrum.”
“Very well, I shall remain a conundrum.” He dropped the curl and stepped away from her. “Now, we have some additional training to ready you.”
She frowned. “For the art exhibit?”
“Not precisely. More of a preventative training measure.” He went and stood in the open area of the room. He shifted two chairs out of the way, creating a larger space free of furnishings. “Come here.”
She eyed him warily, but walked over to him.
“I want you to hit me.”
“Pardon me?”
“Hit me, Evie, as hard as you can, wherever you think is appropriate.” Then he held up a hand. He removed his jacket and waistcoat. “Now, whenever you are ready.”
“You want me to strike you?”
“Yes.”
“Bennett, what is this about?”
“I want you prepared to defend yourself if necessary.”
Fear and something akin to excitement coiled through her. She’d never struck anyone before, not even one of her sisters, but she had certainly read some books with the occasional tussle. She took in the sight of the man before her. He stood, unguarded, with his arms at his sides. Slapping him would be the easiest, but she doubted that’s what he meant by defending herself.
“How do I hold my hand?”
He grinned. “However you wish.”
She closed her fingers into a fist and with as much strength as she could muster, and she punched him right in the stomach. The rock hard wall of his abdomen didn’t budge beneath her strike. “Good heavens, you are no different than a wall.”
“You went straight for the most obvious place. The trick is to size up your opponent and try to determine his more vulnerable areas.”
She allowed her gaze to travel the long length of him. He was massive: tall, broad, and hard. “I seem unable to find any vulnerable areas.”
His lips quirked in a grin. “Consider the eyes. You can jab a man in the eyes. That will give him pause. Ladies also possess the unique skill of being able to scratch an opponent. So look for such things.” He positioned himself closer to her. “Now then, what do you do if someone grabs you?” He did, pulling her to him and holding her close to his body.
She was supposed to fight, that’s what this exercise was for. But here, pressed firmly against his muscular frame, she felt no hurry to escape. She resisted the urge to sigh and rest her head against him. She wiggled to try and free herself, but his grip became manacles and she could not budge. Look for vulnerabilities. Well, she couldn’t see his face from their current position so she did the only thing she could think of—she jumped and stomped on his boots. The movement jarred her free and she turned to face him. “Aha!” she said.
His eyes had grown darker and the muscles in his jaw ticked an erratic rhythm. “You can also kick, bite, whatever you can to break free. You might want to not wiggle so much if a man has you pressed against him.”
She nodded. “Do you train the monarchs in self protection?”
…
He took the opportunity to move away from her. There was only so much temptation a man could endure. Her voluptuous curves pressed against him like that and he’d completely forgotten the point of the exercise. He’d wanted nothing more to do than dip his head down and taste her bare neck, nibble at the curve of her shoulder. He’d released her as soon as he’d been able. Maybe he should have had Adrian train her in this. Perhaps he could restrain himself.
He stood near the sitting area, hoping she would sit. As it was, he had to hope she did not notice his erection straining against his trousers. Damnation, but he wanted her.
“Bennett?” she asked.
She had asked him a question, something about training the monarchs. “In the past the Brotherhood have traditionally given some basic training to the kings, enough that they are able to protect themselves.”
“And Her Majesty?” Evie asked.
“She is the first Queen in over a century, the first Queen since the inception of the Brotherhood.” He shook his head. “No, we have given her no training. She was bred a genteel lady.”
“True, but someone is trying to kill her.” Evie walked over to him, placed her hand on his forearm. “You need to give her a fighting chance.”
The touch was more than he could bear. He pulled her to him and she stilled, looked up at his face.
“Am I to find a way out of your hold while facing you?” she asked.
“I had something else in mind.” He lowered his lips to hers.
She was pliant and soft beneath him, had even leaned in closer to him. He teased at her bottom lip with his teeth and then his tongue until she parted and allowed him entrance.
He kept things slow and gentle, seductively worshiping her mouth. She sighed into his mouth, and a deep satisfaction surged through his body and he tightened his grasp on her. Desire, thick and hot took over his body.
She met his intensity, kissed him back with equal parts urgency and innocence. He wanted to caress her, slip his hand beneath her bodice, find her skin, soft and pliant, but he held his desire in check. He shouldn’t be kissing her, but he’d needed one more taste. He wouldn’t go too far, not with this one. She was different. She needed his protection, and it was becoming clearer that she needed protection f
rom him.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she gripped him.
A light rap came to the door and Bennett released her.
“Somersby,” Adrian said from the other side. “Potterfield wants to see you.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Bennett called. “All you need remember is to fight as best you can to get away from someone if they attack you.” Then he tilted his head and swore. “And perhaps you should start defending yourself against an earl who seems to have trouble keeping his hands off you.”
Chapter Ten
Evelyn woke from a deep sleep with chills biting at her flesh. Her eyes opened, but the room was too dark to see much past her hand. She lay still, listening. A floorboard creaked and she had barely registered that someone was in the room with her before they were upon her, pinning her down.
Bile rose in her throat and panic surged through her limbs. She swung her arms, aimlessly throwing herself against her assailant in an effort to get him off her. She screamed as loudly as she could. “Help! Help me!”
He slammed his hand down on her mouth and she bit into his hand, not caring about the filth, only wanting to do something, anything to save herself. The metallic taste of his blood filled her mouth and she spat it at him.
“You bitch!”
He hit her head with something heavy and pain shot through her skull, piercing the back of her eyes. She tried to scream again, but he muffled her mouth with some piece of clothing. Still she fought. And then as quickly as he’d appeared, the weight of him lifted. There was a huge crash to her right. She sat up, gasping for breath. “Who’s there?” She didn’t know if she should stand, get out of bed, or stay where she sat. Fear settled heavy on her and she pulled the coverlet to her, wrapping her arms around her bent legs.