by Wilde, Tanya
“Evelyn!”
She lifted her hands in defeat. “I’m merely enquiring after you mood.”
Walter appeared at the door.
“The Earl of Grey for his lordship.”
Evelyn’s blood turned to ice at Walter’s announcement. He was early.
Simon gave her a pointed stare before he stood. She heard the scrape of his chair against the marble floor, heard his footsteps padding toward the door and disappearing into the hall, but still she could only stare at the empty space her brother had just occupied.
An uneasy feeling began to work up to the center of her heart. She felt like a caged animal, cornered with no hope of escape. Would he inform Simon of her indiscretion? But even as she thought the question she already knew the answer. He said as much last evening. He was declaring his intentions and might even demand her hand in marriage in light of her ruination.
Gathering her scattered wits Evelyn centered her thoughts on the light that always chased away the darkness.
With deliberate movements she stood. He thought he had everything under control. Let him play his little game. She would not bet on the outcome.
“Let me get this straight,” Westfield said with barely veiled amusement. “You expect me to believe that my sweet, loving sister, Evelyn, not only stole your horse, but stole it clad a shirt that belonged to you, which she also stole after waking up in your bed, having passed out after over imbibing in wine?”
“Yes.”
Westfield sat back in his chair and regarded Grey from across his desk speculatively before he continued, “Then you gave chase, found her lying muddied and unconscious in the road after which you escorted her back to the Inn, on foot no less, and where she in return ran away from you, after you so thoughtfully helped her.”
“Yes,” Matthew ground out.
“You found her in Bristol dressed as a boy, learning upon your arrival she stayed in a men’s establishment. You then took it upon yourself to escort her back to your own lodgings in Bath where you proceeded to compromise her, after which, she ran away yet again.”
“Yes.”
“You found her at our Aunt’s residence in the arms of St. Aldwyn, and confronted him, which eventually led to the two of you brawling in the breakfast room.”
“Yes.”
Westfield let out an incredulous breath. “You then bribed my Aunt’s servants into spying on Evelyn and returned later that day only to discover that she had run away. Again.”
“Yes,” Matthew bit out in frustration. “It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that,” he grumbled.
“You must forgive me, while your story is quite intriguing, it does border on the ridiculous. My sister gets into trouble yes, but never like this, though she does seem different somehow.”
That caught Matthew’s attention. “Different?” he asked curiously.
Westfield regarded him in silent contemplation before he answered, “Evelyn has become… how to put it… more daring and bold. Not to mention the transformation of wardrobe. Yet there is also a sense of sadness that surrounds her. I haven’t been able to put a name to it yet.”
“You haven’t questioned her about this sudden change?”
“Good lord no!” Westfield exclaimed with a hint of a smile. “I am too relieved she’s finally climbed out of the shell she’s been hiding in and is partaking in the real world.”
“Am I to presume then, you have no aversion to my courting Evelyn?”
“I do not,” Westfield said cautiously. “But regardless of her actions, which I have yet to hear her side of, I will not force the situation on her. Whether she accepts you or not, it will be her choice, not mine.”
Matthew grunted. He had hoped Westfield would force the issue, but knew that while this family stayed within the norms of society and its rules, they weren’t slaves to it. Yet a voice at the far back of his mind, one he had no intention of acting upon, whispered tales of doubt. Why did Westfield not rage for his sister’s loss of innocence?
Matthew stood. “I trust this conversation will stay between us,” he asked politely, even though it was in no way framed as a question.
“Of course,” Westfield nodded, rising as well. “But understand that if I keep this conversation between us, I cannot hear my sister’s side and will I only be left with your story.”
Matthew understood. He could live with that.
“But the next time you feel the need to send flowers, keep it to a dozen or so, and don’t include a damn tree.”
Matthew stilled, his face darkening into a scowl.
“I didn’t send flowers, nor did I see a tree.”
Westfield gawked at him. “Saints man, you couldn’t have missed a bloody tree in my front hall.”
Matthew’s scowl deepened. There had been a tree in the front hall? Now that he thought about it, it wasn’t impossible. He would have thought nothing of it had he seen it. Considering what he knew of Westfield, it was rather telling, to not even notice a tree in the front hall. The flowers on the other hand must have been cleared seeing as he would have noticed those, and only because it meant some poor bastard had no sense of self-preservation.
“Hell Grey, the fact that you didn’t notice a tree—”
Matthew interrupted with a snort, and then said, “Says more about you Westfield than it does about me.”
Simon chuckled. “Debatable, my friend.”
“Do you know who sent the flowers?” Matthew asked. Irritation made his voice sound clipped.
Westfield shook his head. “Unsigned note, I’m afraid. Who the hell would send a bloody tree?”
“A note?”
“Some rot about sparkling eyes.”
Matthews cursed. Of course it hadn’t been signed. No man would be fool enough to court Evelyn openly after he publically staked his claim. This fool better get out of his way before Matthew destroyed him.
By the time Matthew reached his town house two hours later, his temper hung by a thread. According to the servants Evelyn had disappeared during his meeting with her brother without in-forming them of her whereabouts. Only after Westfield mentioned the flowers and that damn tree, did he see those blasted flowers everywhere he looked. He also learned (after bribing a maid) that Evelyn had laughed after she read the note and ordered the flowers to be arranged throughout the house.
A foul curse escaped his lips.
She knew he hadn’t sent those flowers. He suspected the hounds would come sniffing, but he never expected this, not after he concluded no man would be fool enough to dare pursue his woman.
This fool had been smart enough to stay anonymous, so perhaps he needed closer consideration. The fool also possessed an opulence of wealth. What man wasted a fortune on flowers? It was unheard of. But this fool knew Evelyn very well, and gifted her with a garden.
She loved gardens, another bit of knowledge he got from her maid, and apparently knowledge only a few possessed, namely close friends and family. St. Aldwyn would be one of them. It was all Matthew could do not to march over to the bastard and take his limbs apart.
“Wilson!” he bellowed.
Wilson appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “You called, sir?”
Without looking his way Matthew ordered, “Cancel my plans for the rest of the week.”
“But my lord, you have—” his butler trailed off as he gave him a murderous glare. “Very well sir,” he squeaked and disappeared.
Damnation. Now he scared his servants. A shaky hand raked through his hair. He needed to calm these raging emotions. They were starting to overwhelm him. Never in his life had he felt this way about a woman and he would be damned if he let another man take her from him! She was aware of his intentions. He could not have made them any clearer. His return to society, his relentless pursuit and his declaration to her brother, yet still she acted as though he played some game. This was not a game. She had gifted him with her innocence and captured something inside of him he could not put a name to. And yes, they have kno
wn each other only a short while, but it felt as though their souls have spent lifetimes together.
Matthew sank down into the chair behind the desk with a sigh. What had Evelyn done to him? Waxing drivel of souls and lifetimes? He was beginning to think he’d lost his mind. How else to explain his fascination with her? Her laughter carried whimsical magic that never failed to envelope him and keep him spellbound while her eyes, those beautiful mischiefs eyes, set his loins on fire. He loved the way she tasted, the way she responded to him even when she didn’t give him an inch.
It dawned on him, in light of this new found madness, that to win her he would need to withdraw. Evelyn needed time to come to terms with her fate. She fought the future that had been decided the moment she gave up her innocence. But she would never stop resisting if he kept pushing her to accept him. Stubborn chit.
Ha! She would probably invent some ridiculous notion to explain his withdrawal in hopes he’d given up. He would never give up. She would come to see that soon enough. He thought back to the morning he’d found her in St. Aldwyn’s arms. The thought of her in another man’s arms was unbearable, the sight of it devastating. He hadn’t understood how she invoked such powerful emotions within him, until now. Madness. It had overtaken him the moment she stumbled, pickled into his room.
His meeting with Westfield had opened a flood gate of other emotions as well. Regret of friendships lost, loneliness of being isolated for so long and guilt over past behaviors. He wanted to ex-plain, but what? What words healed gaping wounds of the past. Certainly not words he possessed. He’d burned those bridges a long time ago. Evelyn was light, and he would not let anyone take away his light.
He stood in the corner of the ballroom, shadowed by a huge sculpture, a mysterious figure that watched as Lady Evelyn laughed at something Lady Josephine said. He wished he’d seen her face when she’d found the garden he’d sent her. She so loved spending early mornings in the garden.
A slow smile spread across his face as he thought of the Earl’s reaction. The man had thundered out of the house like he’d been possessed by the devil himself.
Lady Evelyn and Lady Josephine slowly made their way closer to where he stood, shadowed, oblivious to his observations.
“I say Evelyn, have you heard of Grey’s sudden departure, presumably to attend to an urgent matter at his estate?”
He saw Lady Evelyn go still. How interesting, the Earl of Grey had left London.
“He said nothing to me, no. Not that I mind, of course. He can do as he pleases.”
Was that disappointment he saw in her eyes?
Lady Josephine shrugged, “You have been avoiding him.”
“Who has been avoiding who?” Lady Belle joined the conversation.
“We are talking about Grey and his sudden departure.”
“Oh how boring!” Lady Belle said. “I already know, the entire world knows!”
Lady Josephine frowned. “It just seems odd he would leave now that you have a secret admirer, Evelyn.”
The mysterious man in the shadow’s straightened.
“You should have seen it Jo, it was like something from a magical world. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Why would he leave the note unsigned, it must have cost a fortune,” Lady Belle remarked.
The lady was correct, it had cost a fortune.
“There are only a handful of men that rich who could afford to waste a fortune on flowers.”
Lady Josephine was smart, but his fortune wasn’t well known.
They all nodded at her remark. The mysterious figure chuckled under his breath. They would never solve this puzzle.
“We can make a list and check off each gentleman one by one,” Lady Belle suggested.
Lady Evelyn shook her head. “I don’t care to know his identity yet, let’s first see if he sends anything else.”
They all agreed before they started to move away from the sculpture.
“Oh I almost forgot! I have just heard the most disturbing rumor,” Lady Belle said.
“What?” Lady Josephine and Lady Evelyn said in simultaneously.
“Lord Spencer has taken up with the widow whats-her-name, and it is rumored that she is quite scandalous…”
Their voices trailed off and he could no longer hear what they were saying. The figure emerged from behind the sculpture. So Grey had taken off to the country had he? He would give the man credit; it had been a calculated move on his part, one that may or may not pay off. He’d seen the disappointment in Lady Evelyn’s eyes when she’d heard of his departure, but no devastation. No matter, he still had some tricks up his sleeve.
Chapter 11
Seated on a bench in the garden Evelyn read a chapter of Lady Sugar Finds Love. Or at least she tried to. Her thoughts kept drifting to Matthew. A week had passed since Evelyn had last seen or heard from him. A week of tortured dreams with shockingly passionate embraces. Today, she had awakened early after yet another restless night plagued with dreams of Matthew.
But this dream had been different. She had awakened alone in his bed, cold and confused. Then laughter reached her ears. Evelyn had followed the laughter to the garden where she saw Matthew in a passionate embrace with a faceless Charlotte.
The dream however was nothing compared to what her imagination conjured up at his continued absence. Every morning after breakfast she would wander through the garden with no particular direction. Even Simon was beginning to give her curious glances. The previous evening they left the assembly early because she claimed a headache. It was as though with him, he had taken her purpose, which was ridiculous really. The fact that she felt she now had no one to spar with, no one to avoid, and no one to obsess over was utter rubbish.
So Evelyn decided that she needed to focus on something other than his continued absence. Last week she thought to create a distraction, then Matthew left, and it had been unnecessary. Now it seemed more necessary than ever. Perhaps she would work on identifying her mystery admirer. At least he had not abandoned her.
Every day she received gifts. Nothing as extravagant as the flowers and tree, but nothing proper either. In fact, every gift had been rather improper. Perhaps the clue to his identity lay in the gifts and its meaning for her.
Absently Evelyn turned a page of the chapter. Two books had been left on the front porch, carefully bound. One was the type of book that turned Evelyn’s face red whenever she thought of it, the other a book detailed Colin Bradshaw’s exploration around the world, quite brilliant actually. The Ming vase presented some confusion however. Why would her mystery man send her such a priceless gift? The other gifts included a pocket watch, compass and a case of brandy. They all implied intimate knowledge of her dreams to travel the world.
Just then, the clatter of hooves alerted Evelyn to a visitor. A large carriage stopped not so far away from where she sat. In a hypnotic state she watched as Matthew, looking as handsome as ever gracefully jumped down and looked up at the house. She drank in the sight of him as he hurried up the stairs before she rushed toward the back entrance of the house.
Ten minutes later Evelyn entered the morning room where Matthew awaited her. He stood with his back to her as he gazed out the window. He turned as he heard her enter, the light in his eyes causing her heart pound. He looked like some dark, seductive predator waiting to pounce on his prey. She stopped a few feet away from him, not bothering to take a seat.
“My lord,” she greeted, continuing to watch him carefully.
Crossing the distance between them, he stopped inches away from her, his nearness making her whole body turn warm and velvety. She couldn’t seem to find a single word to say. He seemed to want to say something too but thought better of it. Instead, he reached for her hands, leaving a small kiss on the inside of each wrist. All Evelyn’s senses leaped to life at his touch. The sensation of his warm lips upon her skin made her tremble with longing to be in his arms again, to be swept away by the desire his touch provoked.
He g
azed into her eyes.
“I have missed you, Evelyn.”
She shivered at the husky timbre of his voice, continuing to stare at him like a dimwitted idiot, but couldn’t seem to help herself. She wasn’t sure she could breathe, let alone speak.
“Did you miss me even a little?” he asked, lowering his head to her hands once more to leave small kisses on her wrist.
Yes, she had missed him but wasn’t about to admit it. She was more than content to stand here and stare at him all day. Unfortunately, that would only encourage him.
“I wasn’t aware that you’d left town, my lord.”
“Liar.”
Something about the way he whispered the accusation caught her attention. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Did you leave with the hope that I would pine after you, my Lord Grey?” she asked, lifting a delicate brow in question.
He stared at her for a moment before cupping her chin in his hand. The intimacy of the gesture made her head spin with desire.
“So you did notice,” he murmured with a slight smile.
She shifted away from him. “You did not answer my question,” she murmured, determined not to be seduced by the soft timbre of his voice.
“Do you truly believe I am capable of such deviousness?”
She searched his eyes for a hint of truth. Had all this been planned? Had he intentionally left without a word? Of course he did. He couldn’t possible believe her to be so dimwitted.
“You left without a word after begging me to give you a chance.”
“Begging?”
She nodded. “Begging.”
He gave a short laugh. “Then you do believe me capable of such deceit,” he said, a glint entering his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
The next moment he took her by the shoulders and pulled her against his chest, his lips pressed against hers hard in a passionate kiss. Her lips parted, not in surprise, but pleasure and he took advantage of that, pulling her even closer to him. She did not attempt to turn her head away or push out from his embrace. Instead, she leaned into him, taking pleasure in what he offered.