All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  “Aye, lassie, Scots I am,” he answered, letting all his brogue show through and charming a smile from her. “Probably a good thing too since I recently heard curses being rained down on the heads of ‘all idiot Englishmen.’”

  Eve had the good grace to blush. “You heard that, did you?”

  “Lass, I would imagine that the western portion of Mayfair heard you as well.” The left corner of his lip quirked up again in that tantalizing half-grin, and she was reminded of how enthralling those lips had been just a day ago. He stopped and turned to look down at her lovely face. “If you won’t tell me what had put you into such a bonny temper, perhaps you might at least give me your name?”

  Nonplussed by the change of topic, she parroted, “My name?”

  “Evelyn, was it not? Your Christian name?” His eyes never leaving hers, his warm rough hand slid down her arm. Pausing briefly at the top of her glove, he slipped his hand down into hers, and their fingers entwined. “What do your friends call you?”

  Once again entranced by the intensity and heat of his gaze, she was likewise distracted by the sensation of his fingers stroking the inside of her palm. What had he asked? “Oh. Eve.”

  “Eve?” His rough, husky whisper was a sharp contrast to the tender squeeze of his hand. “Of the infamous Adam and…?”

  Heat crawled up her cheeks, recognizing even in her innocence the seductive tone of his voice. “I suppose so,” she whispered, her heart pounding.

  “The lass of Eden? Och, surely it must be so, since you are a slice of Paradise right before my eyes.” The wink he gave her was pure devil.

  She rolled her eyes at that sappy bit of flattery, prompting him to grin even more.

  “Of course, you could be the curse sent to destroy the future of all mankind.”

  She pressed her lips together to stifle the smile that threatened to emerge.

  “So, you do have humor then?” he continued. “Given your marvelous display of ire, I wasn’t sure it was possible.”

  “Very amusing, sir.” She glanced up at him. “Of course, I have a sense of humor.”

  “Francis.”

  “I’m sorry. I cannot call you that. I’m not supposed to…” She tried to pull her hand away, but he held tight.

  “Call me Francis. Say it.”

  “Francis.” Eve rolled his name on her lips and glanced at him again.

  He was probably not considerably older than her own nineteen years, maybe four or five and twenty years. His frame was tall, much taller than her five foot nine inches, since her forehead was level with his chin—she loved how she managed to feel petite by his side when she was anything but—yet Francis still had the lankiness of a young man, as if his body had yet to fill out his height. His face was beyond handsome, long and lean with sharp cheekbones, yet there was a softness in the curve of his cheek and jaw that hinted at youth. His hair was the darkest brown, nearly black, yet she remembered how the sunlight had glimmered on it drawing out facets of mahogany and red. His masculine beauty offered temptation that was hard to resist. Under thick brows, his eyes were a changeable olive green and brown and danced as if his life were full of joy and humor. And again his lips! His bottom lip had a tantalizing fullness to it.

  She stared at those lips for a long moment, imagining what it might be like to have them pressed against her own. To have them devour hers…or to devour them with her own. A picture came to her mind that was beyond her own experience but startled her with the fissure of heat that raced through her.

  Blushing again, her gaze met his and she could see the answering heat in his eyes as awareness grew and tension built between them. He desired her, she realized, though she wasn’t entirely certain what such wanting encompassed but, if that desire was anything like she was feeling…. These new, enflamed feelings could get her into scandalous trouble, though she wouldn’t care at all if it meant holding him close to her. Shocked by her thoughts, Eve turned her head away and took in the scenery of willows and flowers.

  Clearing her throat, she desperately tried to change the subject. “Why have we not met before, Francis?”

  Easing out of the fog of desire that had hung so heavily between them, he followed her lead falling into the pleasantries. “I am only in town for the week. I don’t like Town much, but my sister wanted to visit my grandmother.”

  “You must be a fine brother to suffer the city so.”

  “I don’t suppose my other siblings would see it that way.”

  “Have you other sisters?”

  “Nay, I have just one sister, Fiona. But I have nine brothers as well.”

  Eve’s eyes widened, grateful for the distraction. She realized she had been staring but couldn’t seem to help it. “Nine brothers? Nine? My goodness, your poor mother.”

  “Aye, well, my mum died shortly after Fiona was born.” He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably at the subject.

  “Oh, Francis,” she cried, clutching his arm, mourning her words as if she’d known this man forever. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  He patted her hand then squeezed it but did not release it. “It was a long time ago and, well, she had wanted a daughter very badly. Papa did not take it well, of course, but we’ve managed well enough. Some of the younger bairns will never remember her though.”

  “You loved her very much,” she stated with certainty.

  “Aye, I am the oldest and so was honored to spend the most time with her. She was a bonny lady.” He raised his eyebrows and quirked his half-grin at her. “English though.” He tsked and shook his head. “Or do English ladies not hold the same regard in your mind as English men?”

  Eve let out a low chuckle that warmed him, charmed him even more than he already was. My God, but she is the bonniest lass I have ever seen, he thought. Life and vitality simmered within her, radiating from her. Her physical beauty was stunning, but he knew with certainty that she was even lovelier on the inside. Her caring for the loss of his mother said much.

  He caressed the top of her hand with his thumb, drawing her gaze again to his, and again she blushed and looked away. She needed a distraction. “So, you are the eldest, then nine brothers and one sister.”

  “Aye.”

  Grasping at the idea, something to pull her back from the intensity of his gaze, she latched onto the topic. “You know, I’m not sure I believe one can have nine brothers. What are their names?”

  “Testing me, lass?”

  “Merely verifying, sir.”

  “Very well, then. There’s myself, then Vincent who is a year younger at four and twenty, Richard is three and twenty, Jamie is one and twenty, Colin is twenty, Sean eighteen, the twins Tam and Ian are sixteen and scamps to be sure. Connor is fourteen, Dorian twelve and lastly wee Fiona who is but ten years.” He grinned that alluring grin at her once again, making Eve catch her breath.

  “Long-winded but I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.” She squeezed his arm as she teased him. “It must be fascinating to be one of so many. I’ve only one sibling myself. My sister.”

  “And, if I identify your speech correctly, you are American, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, my father is Irish though, as many Americans are. He came to America as a young man to make his fortune.” She smiled somewhat painfully as she thought about where that had gotten them. “He was lucky, too. He managed to establish himself long before the famine in Ireland drove so many more of his countrymen across the ocean. It’s shameful how hard-working Irishmen are treated sometimes, as if they are a disease on the face of the earth. Disgraceful. People call them Micks and even put up signs that say ‘No Irish’ when hiring. Thank goodness for my father since he hires so many…”

  She rambled along, but Francis was enchanted and aroused even more, knowing that she did it not to inform but to distract him and herself from the spell that seemed to engulf them. It was gratifying to know that it wasn’t just him, that she felt the intensity of their attraction just as much as he.


  Chapter 5

  As silence descended over them, Eve became aware that the music inside had stopped. “Oh, Francis, I should really be getting back. I ran out of the ballroom, and my sister is probably wondering where I am. I’m sure I’ll be missed.”

  “You followed me out?”

  “A lady would never! I was merely…”

  “You followed me out.”

  “I-I followed you out,” she admitted with a blush. “I regretted not speaking to you more yesterday.”

  “I did as well. I even questioned my grandmother to ascertain that all of her neighbors had been invited this evening. I have thought of nothing but you all day, lass.” He stroked a thumb along the edge of her jaw.

  “Really?” Heat coursed through Eve as she pressed his hand to her cheek. “Francis, I…” Her voice caught. What was happening to her? It was insane! She’d known this man for less than an hour. Just because she was feeling giddy and warm did not dictate that he felt the same. He could be the veriest rogue out to take advantage of innocent girls.

  “My sweet Eve, my Eden,” he took her face in his hands. “I know. I know.”

  “You know what?”

  “I feel it as much as you,” he whispered resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes. “You awaken feelings in me that I’d thought long gone.” He raised her hand, punctuating each of his reasons with a kiss to her fingertips as if enumerating them. “Excitement. Happiness. Anticipation. Joy. I feel like a different person. A happier person.”

  He turned her hand, placing a warm kiss to her palm that, even through her gloves, scorched her with its heat. Loosening the glove’s buttons, he snaked a finger into the glove and slid it down her palm, sending a shock of electricity up her arm.

  “You seem a most happy person to me.” Eve stuttered disjointedly as she stared wide-eyed at him while he pressed those tempting lips to her bare wrist, her pulse pounding through her veins. Her head swam.

  “I haven’t been in a very long time.”

  As he made love to her hand, she stared helplessly into his warm eyes. If she made him happy, the feeling was ten-fold in her. The words he had used echoed her thoughts. It was as if being near him brought her…completion, she supposed. She’d never felt more content to stay in a person’s company, yet that contentment was edged with excitement as he said as if there were much more to come. Surely, if he could reduce her to such a quivering mass with just a few kisses on her hand, then there was much more to feel.

  She knew with a bone-deep certainty that she wanted a lifetime in this man’s arms. She never wanted to be anywhere else. Yet it wasn’t to be. She was practically engaged to wed another man. The iniquities of life held her heart in a vise.

  Francis stared down at her face, taking in the smoothness of her skin, the ivory silken texture, the full lips that he realized were quivering. He looked into her eyes, surprised to find them glassy with tears unshed. “Eve, please do not be upset. I only wish…” he paused, uncertain what he wished exactly, “to get acquainted with you.”

  “Sir, it is not seemly that I ‘get acquainted’ with a gentleman that I have not been formally introduced to.” The words were the automatic response from the smallest part of her mind that was firmly entrenched in the propriety of their society. “Please, let me go.”

  “I’m not sure if I can.” His sigh of regret that was mirrored by his actions as his arms slid of their own will around her waist. “I would like to see you again.”

  Eve buried her face in his neck and clung to him. Emotions she had never known assailed her: dizzying desire, desperation, duty. She had no idea how to handle it all.

  “Sweet Eden, what is it that troubles you so?”

  She savored the closeness of his body for a moment then jerked herself away turning to stare out over the nearby pond. “This is madness,” she whispered more to herself than to him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “I feel the same. It’s simply too fantastic to understand.”

  She stared out at the ducks as they paddled around, bemoaning her near engagement to a man she did not love, bemoaning the fact that she couldn’t have met him sooner.

  Soft footsteps sounded behind her and though she tensed with anticipation, she didn’t turn. His bare hand caressed her upper arm and slid down into her hand. His fingers entwined again with hers as they met. She clenched his hand glorying in the heat, and for the briefest moment leaned back against him with a contented sigh. Warm breath caressed the side of her neck.

  “Paradise. ” He moaned against her neck, causing her body to quiver. “Sweet Paradise, ”

  Eve tilted her head to the side to allow his lips greater access to her neck. Her hand clenched his tightly while his tongue, lips, and teeth explored and lingered on the throb of her pulse.

  Unable to bear it any longer, she turned in his embrace and raised her lips to his in invitation. Framing her face in his hands, Francis bent his head, brushing his lips tenderly across hers. He caught her lips then in a light kiss before settling more deeply into it. His lips were firm as they moved over hers, and she was shocked by the electric sensations that passed between them. It might have been her first kiss, but instinctively she knew that this was a rare moment. Heat and passion mixed with tenderness as their lips melded over and over.

  Turning his head, he deepened the kiss, sucking lightly on her lips, prompting Eve to play on her earlier fantasy and pull his into her mouth in return. His tongue played gently at her lips, teasing and tickling, but didn’t intrude farther as she’d heard a man might. Instead, it seemed he matched his kiss to her innocence, but it was overwhelming, nonetheless. His hand trailed a tantalizing path up her arm to caress her shoulder, her throat, before sweeping down over her breast and moving on to cup her buttocks pulling her closely to him.

  When he pressed himself against her, blood roared in her head and, for the first time in her life, she thought she might swoon.

  * * *

  “Evie!”

  Eve jerked back from Francis as her sister hissed frantically at her. A quick glance found her sister staring at her, wide eyed. Rather than looking shocked, she appeared rather fascinated as she waved insistently at her sister. She had to wonder how long her sister had been standing there.

  “Mother is searching for you. You had better come in.”

  Eve staggered back from Francis; her fingers tracing her lips in amazement before reaching out to touch his. He grasped her hand and kissed it. “May I see you again, Eden?”

  “Yes.” The word fell independently from her lips. She would just have to talk to her mother and explain to her that she had met someone and maybe an earldom was not the most important thing. “Tomorrow?”

  “I cannot come tomorrow.” His regret was obvious. “I have a business meeting in the morning. I will come the following day. The residence with the slamming door?”

  A beguiling smile broke out over her face. “Yes, the house with the slamming door.”

  “Until then.” He kissed her hand again, nodded to her sister and melted into the darkness of the garden.

  * * *

  “Oh, Evie!” Kitty gushed as she practically dragged Eve into the house. Eve followed blindly in a trance-like state, still reeling from the intimacy of her first kiss. “I have never seen anything—anything!—so romantic in my entire life. What was it like? He is so handsome.”

  She covered her still tingling lips with her hand and blinked with a dazed smile at her sister, replaying the wonder again and again in her mind. It had been so perfect. He was so perfect. Francis. Her Francis. Surely everything would change now.

  “You have no idea. It was better than anything we ever imagined. I’ve never felt anything so…so anything. Not in my entire life!”

  “I cannot wait to hear it all.” Her sister’s excitement was tangible. “I am so envious.”

  Eve’s eyes shimmered with innocent tears of awe and wonder. “Is it truly possible? Is there love at first sight? I decla
re I’m in a daze.”

  They entered the brightly lit ballroom arm in arm giggling together just as Margaret Preston approached. Eve’s mother grabbed her hand, separating her from Kitty as she dragged her along and hissed in her ear, “Where have you been?”

  Not waiting for an answer, Mrs. Preston pushed her into a group of people that included her father and two other familiar looking gentlemen.

  Eve looked around trying to understand what was going on. Why was she standing up here in front of the entire assembly? The question was never verbalized but answered nonetheless as the music came to a halt and their hostess, Lady Hyde—Francis’ grandmother! —stepped forward.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” Lady Hyde called to the crowd with a clap of her hands. “Ladies! Lords! Your attention please. It gives me great pleasure that this announcement will be made at my little gathering. Lord Shaftesbury has just granted me permission to announce the engagement of his son, Lord William, to Miss Evelyn Preston. Let us all raise our glasses to toast the happy couple. To the future Lord and Lady Hindon.”

  “Hear! Hear!” voices around Eve chorused.

  Lady Hyde kissed her cheek and gave her over to the younger of the two gentlemen next to her. Eve looked up into features vaguely familiar as the gentleman raised her hand and kissed it formally.

  “To us, my dear Miss Preston,” he murmured with a bow, as she stood frozen in shock, uncertain what had just happened to her.

  Chapter 6

  Eve went down to breakfast the next morning still in a shocked daze over the events of the previous night. It’d all happened so quickly; but surely, it had not truly happened as she remembered. Surely, she was not betrothed? It was wrong, so wrong!

  Yet as she entered the dining room, her mother waved the morning edition of the Times with a satisfied smile. “Look, dearest!”

  There it was in print.

  Lord Robert Ashley-Cooper, Eleventh Earl of Shaftesbury, is pleased to announce the engagement of his son William, Viscount Hindon, to Evelyn Elisabeth Preston, daughter of American shipping magnate Lelan Preston…