An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady

by Wilde, Tanya

  Jo’s question pulled her gaze upward. “Yes of course,” she said, a touch too breathless for her liking and unable to keep the hitch of wistfulness from her voice. The man had the ability to reduce her to a shivering mess.

  Belle frowned. “So do you think your admirer might be St. Aldwyn?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I’m not sure. He’s certainly up to something so it might be worth looking into.”

  Jo reached over to touch Evelyn’s hand. “If St. Aldwyn is involved it’s safe to assume your brother may be too.”

  Evelyn blinked. She hadn’t thought that far.

  “What does your brother say about this entire business with the Earl?” Belle asked.

  Simon? Well, he couldn’t be more pleased she’d finally attracted a suitor. He truly believed she would not resist the match.

  “He’s been quite tight lipped over the courtship,” Evelyn admitted with a lift of her shoulders. “But he keeps staring at me with this little smile. I sometimes get the urge to throw a loaf of bread at him, just to wipe that ridiculous twitch from his face.”

  Both girls made a sound between a laugh and a snort.

  Jo recovered first. “Wes mentioned an ongoing wager in the betting book of Whites. If there is money at stake almost anyone could be your admirer.”

  Marvelous. Another wager.

  “The gifts alone must have cost a fortune,” Evelyn pointed out.

  “Money might not be all that’s on the line,” Belle suggested. “For all we know they are wagering castles!”

  Castles? How like men it would be to wager family estates.

  Evelyn’s attention was drawn to the door when the butler suddenly appeared, the spawn of the devil looming behind him.

  St. Aldwyn pushed his significantly bigger body passed poor Walter, not giving the butler a chance to announce him.

  “Ladies,” he murmured as he came to stand before three shocked faces. He was used to seeing simpering young misses shocked in his presence, some even fainted, but seeing it on these particular three women gave him a great level satisfaction.

  “My lord, how very good of you to—”

  “What are you doing here?” Jo interrupted rudely.

  Evelyn’s head whipped to her friend with wide eyes. She cleared her throat and gave Jo a warning glance before she said, “Simon is out on errands.”

  “I gathered as much,” he replied with a brilliant smile, plopping down next to Jo, unfazed by her rudeness. Evelyn saw her friend stiffen, no doubt feeling crowded next to his much bigger frame. It might be her imagination, but she got the impression of animosity between them, though one might say Damien enjoyed annoying Jo.

  Perhaps Jo wasn’t so far off from being in the same wagon as Evelyn. An intriguing notion, one she wouldn’t dwell on. St. Aldwyn would never settle down.

  “Would you like to join us for tea?” Evelyn asked in a deceptively pleasant voice. This was their chance to find out if he was the secret admirer.

  He rewarded her with a brilliant smile. “A delightful idea. That is if I haven’t interrupted your daily gossips.”

  Josephine rolled her eyes.

  “Not at all, my lord,” Belle purred flirtatiously. “Your presence is meant to be.”

  It was Evelyn’s turn to cast her eyes heavenward.

  “We were discussing the current events of the Season.”

  Damien nodded thoughtfully, but not before giving Belle an odd look. “It has been quite the interesting Season so far, I agree.”

  Evelyn gave a friendly laugh, perhaps too friendly. “Interesting yes, it has been that.”

  “Very interesting,” Belle chirped. “It seems our Evelyn has garnered the affection of a gentleman who wishes to remain anonymous.”

  “Indeed?” Damien murmured as his gaze settled on Evelyn. “You should be careful Lady Evelyn. Men who wish to stay anonymous usually have something to hide.”

  “Do you have something to hide, my lord?”

  He chuckled and Evelyn could not help but compare the throaty sound to the soft timbre that was Matthew’s laugh.

  “I’m an open book, my lady.”

  Jo snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  Evelyn took a sip of her tea, studying St. Aldwyn over the rim of her cup. No, he was not her mystery man, but he might know the identity. Yet she suspected he would not be such an open book in front of her friends, so she would need to pull him aside tonight.

  It occurred to Evelyn, a few hours later at the Richmond Ball that perhaps she should have danced more instead of lurking beside potted plants. Perhaps then, her feet wouldn’t feel as though they were about to fall off. She’d hardly had a moment of rest, and decided she would join the wallflowers against their wall, and sit on her behind, legs outstretched.

  Fortunately the evening was almost over, unfortunately she had another dance. A few onlookers glanced her way, but Evelyn did not care. She must look a fright, wearing one of Madam De La Frey’s vivid green gowns, reminding her of a forest, or, Evelyn crinkled her eyes in thought, seaweed. Yet she sat amongst the dreary wallflowers, a vibrant flower amongst lusterless twigs, and not very ladylike too, with her shoulders drooped and her legs outstretch.

  “Well, aren’t you a sight, Lady Evelyn,” Wesley drawled, appearing before her, drawing giggles form the wallflowers.

  “How gracious of you to notice.”

  Wesley grinned. “I daresay I’m not the only one.”

  Evelyn chuckled. “If you are here to lure me to the dance floor, please, I cannot.”

  Wesley shook his head. “I am but here to offer you some company. I do so enjoy yours, you see.”

  He winked at the lady sitting two chairs down.

  “You are such a rogue, Wes. There are more interesting conversations for you than mine.”

  “You wound me, my lady. I hang onto every word you say.”

  A niggling sensation she couldn’t quite grasp at the back of her mind caused Evelyn to pause. She shook it off.

  “I see that your browbeater isn’t here to keep all the young gents at bay with his glare.”

  Evelyn stifled a laugh. It was true. Matthew had yet to make an appearance. She wondered if he even would.

  “He has abandoned his post, it would seem. Not very good for my feet,” she wiggled one foot in demonstration.

  “If you require protection, I will gladly pledge my service to you.”

  Evelyn glimpsed Damien approaching. “No need, kind knight, I have but one dragon to slay and my quest is over.”

  Damien came up beside Wesley. “Wetherby,” he nodded.

  “St. Aldwyn,” Wesley greeted with good humor, unperturbed by the incorrect delivery of his title.

  He held out his arm for Evelyn, “I believe this is my dance, Lady Evelyn.”

  Skirts shuffling, Evelyn reluctantly rose to put her arm in his. She refrained from groaning in pain.

  Wesley bent to pick something off the ground.

  He held out a small note to Evelyn. “You must have dropped this, Lady Evelyn.”

  With a frown she took the note, ignoring Damien’s curious glance. How had it gotten in her skirts?

  “Thank you.”

  With a bow Wesley took Evelyn’s seat amongst the wallflowers and giggles erupted, leaving Damien to guide her onto the dance floor. The beat of the Waltz drifted through the air, chasing away the chatter and laughter and to Evelyn’s surprise, the dull discomfort in her feet. She had always loved the sound of music though she rarely played herself.

  Damien’s hand moved to the small of her back.

  “So my lady, to what do I owe the pleasure of this dance?”

  A fair question, Evelyn supposed. She had practically shoved her dance card in his face. How else was she supposed to get him alone?

  “I gathered you may know something of my secret admirer.”

  He lifted a dark brow in question. “How did you gather that, pray tell.”

  She hesitated before answering, “A logical
deduction I would say. You are always in the thick of things, my lord.”

  Damien chuckled. “But a mistaken one, nonetheless. I will however admit to curiosity. Who is this gentleman that puts our male population to shame with his extravagant gifts?”

  Evelyn laughed at his put out tone, but became distracted by the sight of Matthew sauntering through the ballroom doors with her brother. Her heart gave the briefest flutter in her chest. It's only natural that they would renew their friendship. But what of Damien? He might have done rather horrid things in the past, but he deserved a second chance, just like Matthew.

  From across the room their eyes met and locked. His grin spread from ear to ear, until his eyes landed on her dance partner. His smile turned downward. Evelyn supposed she should have pretended to be ignorant of his arrival, but that would be silly and provoke him in such a way he would attach himself to her side for the remainder the evening, scaring away anyone who dared come near her.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed when, returning her attention to Damien, she trod heavily on his foot. “I’m so sorry!”

  She had stumbled awkwardly too, and Damien had to grasp her arm until she righted herself and picked up the steps of the dance again. A few of the dancers close to them looked at her with concern. She flicked a quick glance in Matthew’s direction and saw his narrowed eyes glare at them. Did he think she had done it on purpose?

  “My fault entirely,” Damien assured her in such a fashion she wondered if indeed, it had been his fault. “I only hope my back survives the daggers being glared into it.”

  Evelyn let out a half-pressed laugh, embarrassed that he had seen her ogling Matthew, even though the man knew almost every intimate detail of her life. He swirled her around a few times so quickly that Evelyn was breathless when she stopped. She laughed in delight.

  Finally, the set came to an end, and she rested her hand on Damien’s sleeve.

  “Thank you,” she murmured with a smile. “It was a delightful way to end the evening even if I had to force you to endure it.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he said aghast, playing a hand over his heart. “It is always a pleasure to dance with you, even though my feet suffer the consequences.”

  Evelyn blushed at the reminder of her blunder.

  “Come, let us not give Grey any more reason to dagger my back,” he murmured with a wiggle of his brows, directing her through the crowd, toward Lady Josephine.

  “So you have no clue to my secret admirer’s identity?” Evelyn asked searching his eyes.

  “On my honor, I am just as clueless as you are, my lady.”

  Evelyn nodded, smiling when they reached Jo, who shot Damien a frosty glare, accusation bright in her eyes. Her face however softened when it returned to Evelyn.

  “Are you all right? I thought I saw you stumble?”

  Ah.

  “I am fine,” Evelyn put her friend at rest, “I cannot say the same for his feet.”

  She remembered the note then, and wondered how she would read it without drawing the attention of unwanted individuals—such as, Matthew… or Damien… or her brother.

  Evelyn glanced at her friend, but Jo was now in a heated argument with St. Aldwyn. Not wasting another moment she pulled the note from her pocket and opened it in the palm of her hand. Her eyes ran over the content in quick examination before enclosing the note in a tight fist, pocketing it again, aghast.

  Meet me in the library.

  Her eyes darted from left to right in fear that someone took note of the action. Could this be from her secret admirer? She took one step back, another and another, her eyes penned on the heated argument of her friends, paying her no regard, as she retreated silently.

  If she was going to meet this admirer, it must happen now. No doubt her brother and Matthew were making their way toward her this very second. With one last sweep of the room, she disappeared into the crowd.

  The library was dark and stuffy, not even the light from the moon protruding through the thick curtains. Evelyn stroked her hands gingerly over her arms. She had stumbled and made her way through the darkness until she’d knocked into the settee. That had been ten minutes ago.

  Had she found the note too late? Had her secret admirer vanished from the midst of her fingertips? She couldn’t stay much longer, not without her brother catching wind of her disappearance. Drat, Evelyn thought on a sigh. She had been so close before time snatched the opportunity from her grasp.

  She lay back on the settee, the silence, entwined with the darkness and hard cushion of the settee soothing to her tired body. She kicked off her slippers, thoughts of being caught disappearing behind the soft lull of comfort. Evelyn inhaled the musky scent of the room as her lashes lowered. It smelled of dust and old books. It reminded her of the reason she loved reading books of almost any sort, the smell of their leather bindings and old paper drifting gently through the air was magnetic in its pull.

  The sound of a door creaking and light filtering into the room lifted her spell of comfort and a resounding click echoed through the room as the door closed, plunging the room into complete darkness again. Evelyn’s eyes popped open and her heart thrashed wildly in her chest. In one swift movement she rolled onto her stomach and peeked over the armrest of the settee.

  “Is someone there?” she asked, hushed but clear.

  Heavy footsteps approached her.

  Evelyn rose until she rested on her knees, still on the settee.

  “Who is there?” she asked in a sharp, clipped voice. “I demand an answer.”

  The figure came to stop before her and with slitted eyes she made out arms folding over a wide chest. Then the figure spoke up, “Well, aren’t you a demanding little thing tonight.”

  Oh good. Him.

  “You nearly scared me to death,” Evelyn accused before remembering she wasn’t supposed to be here. Alone.

  “What in the blazes are you doing?”

  His unhappiness at finding her here alone vibrated through his booming voice. What was she to say? I received a note from my admirer to meet him here, did not seem wise.

  He leaned forward to loom over her.

  “My feet hurt,” Evelyn murmured. That at least was the truth.

  “Is that so? I always seem to find you in places you aren’t supposed to be.”

  “Perhaps you are the one always in places you aren’t supposed to be,” she quipped back. Evelyn wasn’t sure, but she thought he smiled. He propped down next to her.

  “Your feet hurt?” The question was asked gently.

  Evelyn nodded then remembered he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Yes,” she murmured and settled back on her behind, “a terrible ache of discomfort and pain.”

  “Lie back against the armrest and rest your feet on my lap.”

  “Why?” She did not hide the suspicion in her voice.

  Before Evelyn could blink she was in his arms and deposit back against the armrest, her legs firmly planted on his lap. Before she could protest he took one foot in his hands and started to rotate this thumb in a very pleasurable way.

  Evelyn inhaled sharply at his touch and her breath came out as a groan. “Oh, that is so good.”

  He chuckled again. “If you danced only with me sweetheart, your feet would not hurt as much.”

  Evelyn’s response was a sound of pleasure.

  “I saw you stumble in your waltz with St. Aldwyn.”

  Evelyn groaned when he took her other foot and repeated the action.

  “Ah yes, your fault, or my feet’s fault, not certain which,” Evelyn murmured almost incoherent, her attention on his hands and their magic.

  “When I saw you leave the ballroom, I followed you.”

  Evelyn eyes popped open and then closed again when he pressed his thumb into the arch of her heel.

  “I should not have stayed so long, but it was so quiet and comfortable.”

  “I hear St. Aldwyn came to call on you today.”

  “Ah yes,” she whispered and shivered in delight as
Matthew continued to circle his thumb just beneath her toes. “He came, Simon wasn’t there, and I invited him for tea. He’s not the admirer.”

  Matthew forced himself to relax. He had thought the worst when he’d followed her, even stood outside the library doors for ten minutes in dread of what he might find, but her feet had hurt.

  “We can’t stay here much longer, love,” he whispered. “Your friends will be searching for you soon enough.”

  “Let the cavalry come, you are doing trickery to my feet.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Nevertheless, it is time,” Matthew replied warmly.

  “I should go,” she agreed. Her were feet much better now.

  “Yes,” he said, clenching his fist to restrain himself from pulling her into his arms. He did however pull her into a sitting position and slipped her slippers back onto her feet.

  “Thank you,” Evelyn murmured.

  He directed her to the door, careful that she did not stumble over anything in the dark. “Perhaps you should take care and avoid dark libraries in the future, love, lest you want to be ravished.”

  “Perhaps.” She frowned when he followed her through the door. “Should you not wait a few minutes before you follow?”

  Matthew snorted.

  Evelyn was too sated from his glorious foot rub to care. Thank you secret admirer, she thought happily. It would however, be her last thought on him. She was done wasting her time on a man that didn’t want to be found.

  They reentered the ballroom together, but he left her in her brother’s line of vision.

  “Until next time, love,” he murmured.

  And then he was gone, just like that. How peculiar. Usually he attached himself to her side. Evelyn felt oddly off balance at his sudden and easy dismissal after such a pleasurable foot rub. No one had even taken notice of them. It appeared the ton thought them a match. It was her turn to snort. One foot rub did not make for a marriage, Evelyn mused. Neither did one night of passion.

  “There you are my dear,” Simon said with a smile as he reached her.

  Evelyn returned his smile.

  “You really must tell me what you did to scare St. Aldwyn off. That method might come in handy one day.”

  Evelyn’s startled gaze drew a chuckle from her brother.