Questions for a Highlander

by Angeline Fortin

  Once on the floor, she curtsied deeply as he bowed in return. Assuming a most respectable stance, he proceeded to whirl her about the room. A tall woman herself, it was unusual for Eve to have to tilt her head back to see her partner’s face. Normally she met most men eye to eye, but she liked that he could make her feel petite and fragile as he once did. The earl waltzed in gracefully long strides and sweeping turns that made her hold on tightly. His eyes sparkled as he pulled her closer. Eyes from all about watched as the tall, graceful couple moved together about the room and voices commented about what a dashing couple they made.

  Chapter 13

  Eve stared up into the olive green eyes that had haunted her for almost eight years and knew without a moment of deeper reflection that nothing had changed. Francis had enthralled and captivated her from the instant she had met him and, in just a few moments, he had done it again. She had been lost to him then.

  She was lost again now.

  Lost in the man from the moment they had touched. It was like magic to feel the heat of his hand entwined with hers. That same electricity that had enthralled her as a young woman was still there. All of it made her feel like his ‘Eden’ once more, just a girl amid her first crush. The years fell away and it was as though they were standing in his grandmother’s garden again. Helpless to resist the pull that had drawn them to one another years ago. Helpless to fight the web that sought to surround them.

  The humor faded from his eyes and a deep awareness overtook them both. Eve gave up trying to look away from him and stared into his compelling eyes. Eyes she had never forgotten, that had haunted her fantasies for so long. They held her spellbound, promising her the world and more with each look. Such warmth was in his eyes! She had no idea that her own grass-green eyes were returning that heat with equal measure.

  Nor were either of them aware that their bodies were moving closer and closer to each other with each turn in their unconscious need to be as one. They moved well past the bounds of propriety. Francis pulled her closer to him until there was a mere breath separating them. Then not even that. Her breast first brushed, then pressed, against his chest, her belly met the hard plains of his stomach.

  The heat of his hand burned through her layers of clothes, warming her even more. His thigh slipped deeply between her legs as they turned and as they turned again, once more sending a sinful heat through Eve’s core. Her left hand dropped the long train of her gown and fell to his forearm. She stared up at him as their dance slowed and eventually stopped, leaving them motionless in the middle of the dance floor, pressed to one another in a near embrace.

  Francis had forgotten where he was. He only knew whom he was with. Reality seemed far away. Their bodies touched and meshed from chest to thigh as his arm snaked around her waist. His head began to lower. Hers fell back to welcome him…

  A murmur rose among the crowd.

  “Francis!” The pair jumped apart to face Richard in surprise though perhaps the younger man’s was even greater. “I think it might be a good idea if I cut in?”

  Shocked, Eve jumped back from Francis’ embrace her face flushed with color. She was not merely embarrassed; she was horrified as she looked with some astonishment at all the silent, scandalized faces about her. Years of rigid instruction on the proper behavior of ladies descended upon her. Years of having William correct her behaviors. Years of reprimand and castigation. And what had she done? What had she been thinking? “I’m very sorry!” she whispered and turned to flee.

  Francis caught her before she could run away rashly, assuming a flight that might stir further gossip. “Come, lass, I think a stroll on the terrace might do us a bit of good. Richard, if you will excuse us?”

  Reluctantly, Richard stepped aside and, nodding her consent, Eve took Francis’ offered arm as they left the ballroom through nearby doors. She kept her head held high and regal as if nothing untoward had happened, but on the inside she was aghast by her behavior. “I am so mortified. I cannot imagine what everyone is saying!”

  “They were probably thinking, ‘Isn’t that the same American girl we could hear cursing her way up Half Moon Street so many years ago?’” The corner of his mouth jerked up in an oh-so familiar grin that brought a physical ache to her chest.

  Trying to push aside her embarrassment as such a happy memory descended, Eve smiled shyly up at him. “There was a moment I had thought you might not have remembered me, my lord.”

  “Not remembered you? How can you say that?” his surprise was evident as his brows rose.

  “It was just a couple moments almost eight years ago after all. Less than an hour all told,” she reminded. In all the years since their meeting, when Eve had thought of Francis – those fantastical moments when they met and she had fallen so quickly, easily in love – it had never occurred to her, despite his assurance at the time, that his feelings had been as engaged as hers. It warmed her heart that he had not only remembered their meeting, but did so fondly.

  “Yet those moments remain in my memory as some of the happiest I have known,” he admitted, softly squeezing her hand.

  “They do?” Those words bespoke more than mere fondness, Eve thought as she glanced up at the face that had haunted, yet sustained her through all the years of her marriage. A ghostly reminder of what might have been. His dark eyes promised that the attraction was not just a memory either. The allure she felt for him was almost fairy tale-like in its blissful power, intensified by the knowledge that one was desired in return. In her heart, she was giddy as a princess when awoken by her prince after a long slumber. And yet, she could not give herself over entirely to the moment. Curious looks from others on the terrace prompted the ingrained propriety to reassert itself. Against the girlish yearnings of her heart, Eve stepped away, regaining a more respectable distance. The movement brought a puzzled frown to his face.

  “What is the matter, Eden?”

  “You should not address me so familiarly, my lord.”

  “I have addressed you that way in my mind countless times.” He closed the distance between them once more and reached out for her hands. “You once called me Francis.”

  “That was a long time ago. Things changed after that day. You should have told me you were married. I would never have acted so rashly.” The reproach was clear in her voice as she tried to withdraw her hands and his brow puckered in confusion at her change from all that was warmth to this chilly shell.

  “Were you angry with me?” he asked.

  “Surprisingly, no,” she answered after a moment’s reflection. “I never thought of that moment with anger, just upset. Why didn’t you say something that night in the garden?”

  “I had forgotten.”

  “You had forgotten you were married?” A brow rose coolly in disbelief.

  “In a sense, I did.” He reached again for her hands but she folded them tightly before her. With a sigh, he rested his hands on the balustrade. “I had already been married for seven years when we met, Eden. I wed when I was just a lad of eighteen. My father was ill, dying, and wanted to make sure our, and I mean the earldom’s, future was secure before he passed. My relationship with my wife left much to be desired and by that time we lived largely apart. So, aye, occasionally I forgot I was married.” He reached up and caressed her cheek, pleased that she didn’t pull away, enjoying the blush that followed his touch. “And when you came along and took my breath away as you did, I could think of nothing else.”

  “I took your breath away?” she sighed wistfully, leaning unconsciously into his hand overwhelmed by his presence and his confession. The light caress of his fingers sent shivers of longing down her spine.

  “Sweet Paradise,” he whispered roughly cupping her face in both hands, “you still do. When I saw you tonight, it was as though the years had fallen away, as if we were back in my grandmother’s garden. The magic… the way you stir me…” his whispered words melted into feather-light kisses on her forehead and cheeks that had Eve’s head spinning as pleasure and
desire washing over her.

  Eve fought to retain her composure though her willpower faltered at his proximity and her stomach trembled at his words. Was she going mad? She was allowing a gentleman to nearly kiss her in the presence of others! She wasn’t a young girl any longer to act so foolishly. Her heart quivered, wavering between desire and control. The control won and her voice once again regained its polite tone as she managed to draw away. “And you, my lord? What happened in your life since we met?”

  Francis shifted, uncomfortably reluctant to bring up his scandalous past. “Why, I mourned the loss of one sweet but sassy lass whom I had met so long ago.” Gently he stroked her cheek once more and gazed down into the eyes that had lingered in his mind for the past many years. “Where has she gone, Eden? You are here in front of me, but the lass who was so full of vinegar seems to be missing.”

  “That was a long time ago, my lord.” That lass was inside her, banging on the door to be released from the prison of manners and form in which William had locked her. She wanted to beg for his help, to show him that she was still there, but only whispered hollowly, “People grow up. They change.”

  “I think she is in there,” he murmured into her ear. “And no more ‘my lords’, please. I long to hear my name from your lips just as you said it not an hour past. Say my name, Eden, say it.”

  Eve savored the feel of his thumbs as they caressed her cheeks. Desire flowed through her just as it had before. To say aloud that which she hadn’t dared in years. “Francis,” the name came out with a fluttering sigh. “Oh, Francis…”

  “Ahh, you still feel it, too, don’t you?” his lips brushed her temple as he breathed in the scent of her.

  “My Lord, it is a powerful thing…” she admitted. She cleared her throat and took a step back trying to distance herself from him. She had to stop this! Apparently if her guard slipped for even a moment, she fell into his arms like the veriest street walker. Like a silly child! Where was her cloak of propriety now? “And are you widowed now as well?” she asked absently as she tried to regain her composure.

  “No, but –”

  Reality splashed upon Eve bringing her to her senses. She jerked herself back from him realizing the implications of what he was saying. Was he trying again, as he had years before, to lure her into an affair, a liaison that held no respect? “No? You are not widowed?”

  “No, Eden, it is not what you think…”

  Without a second’s consideration, Eve’s hand shot out and slapped him across the face.

  They stared at each other in stunned silence. Eve’s body vibrated with anger and humiliation and shock at her audaciousness. But how dare he? How dare he do this to her again! He was a married man! How dare he play on her feelings like this? “Married? Still? And this is how you act?”

  “I’m not, Eden,” he started to explain, but she cut him off.

  “I guess since I am no longer a young debutante, you see no problems with acting as you did eight years ago? Now that I am a widow, it is alright?” she accused in a trembling whisper. Emotion rolled through her and spilled through her social mask. Her eyes were aflame with anger and hurt.

  “I would never treat you so, Eden. I realize it is nonsensical to you, but you are my single ray of sunlight these past years,” he retorted. Watching her anger slip away to confusion, he held out a hand. “If you would allow me to explain, I will. While I am not a widower, I am divorced from my former wife.”

  “I am a respectable woman, not a…” she floundered to a halt as his words sunk in. “What?”

  “I am not a married man any longer,” he clarified. If his cheek hadn’t burned with the strength of her blow, Francis might have felt the urge to laugh at the purely confounded expression on her face. “I am saying that you needn’t think so ill of me, Eden. I might be awash with scandal but not the rogue you apparently think me. I am a single man.”

  Eve’s mind blanked. “Oh.” A replay of the last few moments flashed through her mind and Eve stepped back in horror covering her mouth with both hands. She had struck an earl in public as if he were a cad, an adulterer, when he was naught but innocent of her accusations. “Oh, Francis! I am so sorry!” She reached up to cup the cheek that she had injured. “I don’t have any idea what has come over me this evening. It’s not like me to react with such emotion. To act without thought. To feel so…”

  “Ahem.” The sound of a throat being cleared jerked them apart. His brother, James, stood at the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Could I speak with you a moment, brother?”

  “Not now, Jamie,” Francis ground out, taking Eve’s hand in his own and drawing her closer to his side.

  “I should think now is a perfect time,” he drawled in return. “Especially if you plan to rain a scandal on the head of dear Lady Shaftesbury. Just being seen with you…”

  Suddenly, Eve was able to focus again on the faces around her. Though others on the terrace were far enough away that her words to Francis could not be overheard, they were the center attraction of them all. Given the way some were whispering behind their hands, they were the subject of their conversation. The scene they were creating…! Cozied together one moment, her striking him the next! What would William have done if he could have seen her behave this way? Probably locked her in the cellar again or delivered one of his other punishments he employed to keep her ‘in line’. She was appalled to have them all staring at her. She shuddered in humiliation and horror.

  Drawing her most icy demeanor around her like a cloak, Eve disappeared and the countess took her place with the most reserved and restrained manner. “I believe the excitement of the evening has taken its toll,” nodding her head formally to Francis and then James. “Gentlemen, please excuse me. I believe I will retire.” Head high, she swept through the doors and across the ballroom, nodding coolly as she passed through not stopping along the way.

  James stopped Francis with a hand as he started to follow her.

  “What are you doing, Francis?”

  “I was just…” he shook his head. Indeed, he really had no idea what he was doing. Eve was correct. She was a respectable woman and yet he thought that just because of their attraction, she should flout convention and allow a public romance between them? Scandal over his divorce was still thick in Society. Any woman to whom he paid marked attention would become attached in association. Though Eve might be unaware, his brothers all knew that it would take a residence upon hell’s frozen plains before he would take another wife. All he was prepared to offer any woman was the role of lover and protector. Clearly, Eve was not a woman to accept the part of mistress. But he could not deny their attraction either. It was terrible to think that the only positive moments of his marriage were with a woman other than his wife, but it was true.

  The buoyancy his heart had taken on again in just the past hour was unlike anything Francis had felt since he had met his Eden all those years before. He didn’t know what it was about her, but she gave him hope. Aye, hope that life might be worth rejoining again. Hope of happier days.

  When his eldest brother remained silent, James spoke up. “While it is good to see you taking an interest in the ladies again, brother, I don’t believe that Lady Shaftesbury is the step you should be considering.” James watched the widow wend her way through the crowd and out of sight, before turning back to his eldest brother. “Don’t get me wrong, old man, I am all for pursuing a merry widow for sport myself, but Lady Shaftesbury is not that type. You just met her, so I want to make you aware. I’ve had the opportunity to get to know her these past several weeks, most of us have. I assure you, she is as respectable a woman as I have ever known and one of Abby’s dearest friends. Plus, I rather like her, so stay away from her.”

  “Ahh, I am afraid that may be a problem.” Francis glanced toward the door again. The yearning to follow was strong. His brothers did not know that Evelyn had disturbed his dreams for years. That he knew her soul, if not her body. In those moments with her, it was as i
f every lesson that marriage had taught him about women fell away. There was no bitterness. There was no anger or mistrust. There was only a place unlike any other. There was just his Eden, his Paradise.

  How he had been fooling himself that morning when Abby had chastised him! Francis had always known that there was an exception to his views on womanhood. Not just Abby herself, but Eden. How could he have forgotten? Shaking his head, he left the ball through the garden.

  He realized with a laugh that Abby might win her wager after all.

  Once out of sight of the ballroom and any of the guests, Eve fled up the stairs, determined to reach her rooms before emotion overcame her. Alas, it was not to be. In her haste, she came up behind Richard and Abby who were also making their way to their rooms.

  Abby took one look at her face and stopped. “Why, Evie, whatever is the matter?” she asked with concern.

  Instantly, Eve pulled back and plastered her most polite smile on her face. “It’s merely been a trying time these past weeks. I thought I might just retire early to…”

  “Alright, my friend, give over and tell me what is going on.” Abygail gave her husband a significant look and with a shrug, he took himself off. “Out with it now. I’ve heard nothing from you since I came down to England except this polite chit-chat of yours.”

  “I’m uncertain what you mean,” Eve said evasively, refusing to meet Abby’s eyes.

  “Uncertain?” Abby returned with raised brows. “Uncertain? I’ve never heard you talk like this! We are friends! Aren’t we?”

  “Of course, we are!”

  “Didn’t the four of us stay up nights at Folkestone under the covers whispering our deepest secrets to one another?”