An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady (3 page)

Evelyn failed to see the humor. But she hated to admit that he had a point. If she’d not been so preoccupied with getting away from him she might’ve considered the fact.

He must think her a hoyden. She would have thought it. The only course of action now was to get back to the Inn without being seen. Then she would put this entire incident behind her.

“You are right, of course,” she muttered reluctantly, averting her gaze.

Strong fingers gently lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I will not harm you, of that you have my word.”

That wasn’t the problem, Evelyn speculated darkly as she followed him into the field. He was the problem. Him. With his hypnotic green eyes and gentle touch. And he knew her name whereas she could not remember his. It was a disadvantage that she did not care for. Yet still she followed without complaint.

Her mood improved when she was afforded the perfect opportunity to stare at his magnificent backside—and that she did care for. Even dirty and bedraggled he walked with an air of authority; a superiority and arrogance that no mere man possessed. He walked as though he not only owned the world, but as though he had a right to own it. It was a walk Evelyn recognized, the walk of a man with superior birth.

Yet she did not recognize him. Of course she wasn’t familiar with every aristocrat in England, but if he frequented London, he would’ve known her true identity and that of her family. Her description along with her first name alone, if asked to the right person, would unmask her and if he was a nobleman, as she suspected, he might be duty bound to do the right thing. That would never do! He also did not strike Evelyn as a man that would allow her to indulge in her travels.

“Oh bother,” Evelyn muttered under her breath.

Matthew glanced over his shoulder, his brows pulled together. He smiled when a beautiful shade of red stained her cheeks. So she wasn’t as unaffected as she would have him believe. The thought pleased him. What a mystery she remained.

“Are you traveling alone?” he asked offhandedly.

Her startled gaze flew to his. “Yes. I uh, mean no,” she recovered, scolding herself for the slip. “I am traveling with a chaperon,” she continued, leaving out that her chaperon was her footman, even though she had been more than willing to leave him behind—for his safety of course.

“Where is your ladies maid?”

A big reddish cat slinking through the grass caught her attention. “Oh uh, she became sick on our journey so I sent her home,” Evelyn replied, distracted by the cat. It entertained itself with something hairy, a mouse perhaps?

“I see.”

Too late Evelyn realized her mistake. She should not have parted with that information, however insignificant it appeared. Eyes narrowed on the back of his head. What was this man about? He seemed to be planning something, she was sure of it, and it no doubt involved her. Heaven forbid he should insist upon escorting her to her destination. That would not do at all.

“May I ask a question?” she asked, redirecting the topic of conversation.

He quirked a brow, curious. “You may.”

“Why is it I happened to wake up with a man in my bed?”

The scoundrel chuckled. “I believe you mean my bed. You do not remember then?”

“No,” she muttered grudgingly. “I’ve no memories of meeting you at all.”

“I should blister your behind. Had it been any man other than me, you could have found yourself released of your virtue.”

If only
.

“I am aware sir, and I will certainly never do so again,” Evelyn replied, sarcasm laced heavy in her voice.

“And I am to accept your word?”

She snorted. “It is of little consequence whether you accept my word or not.” 

“You were convinced I was a dream,” he teased.

She came up short, glaring at his back. “I most certainly did not!”

That earned her another chuckle.

“You most certainly did,” he reassured her.

Her humiliation was now complete. “Then I owe you an apology sir... Not only did my imagination run wild, but I overindulged, behaved like trollop and stole your horse.”    

Matthew paused upon hearing the defeated note in her voice. She sounded tired and dejected. He much preferred the angry Evelyn to the defeated Evelyn. “Please, call me Matthew. The time for formalities has passed, do you not agree?”

Matthew. The name suited him, she mused on a wistful note, thankful that he’d offered it without her having to ask. She also had no intention of forgoing that particular formality. It kept him at the desired distance. “Thank you for accepting my apology.”

He turned then, his eyes locking with hers. “No need for apologies. All has been forgiven,” he said, then added with a sly smile, “The moment you stomped away so marvelously.”

His ancient green eyes held her spellbound and drew her in... Into what she didn’t know, “I do not stomp,” she whispered, barely audible, almost indignantly, still captured by his gaze.

Matthew did not think, only reacted, covering her lips with his in a fervent kiss. She stiffened in his embrace and he let his tongue slide over her lower lip, coaxing a gasp from her. He took ad-vantage of her parted lips and plunged his tongue into her mouth, drawing her closer to him.

A soft moan escaped her the same time she melted against his chest. Damn, he wanted her. She was driving him mad with desire. How long since he’d held a woman in his arms? Not since Charlotte, six years ago.

The force of his desire staggered him. But he did not dare. Women weren’t creatures to be trusted, no matter how sweet and innocent they appeared. He would do what he had done six years ago. He would walk away and never look back.

He broke the kiss and muttered in a harsh breath, “We need get back before you freeze to death.”  

“Y-Yes of course,” Evelyn stammered between breaths as she watched him march away. She was not at all certain what had just happened. One moment he’d kissed her passionately and the next he’d pushed her away like she had some sort of illness. It should not bother her. She had no business kissing him, especially not since she sensed he’d be nothing but trouble. Moving to follow him, she shivered as coldness stabbed at her legs.

“I can’t imagine what compelled you to steal my horse without wearing the proper attire.” She heard him mutter darkly.

Her delicately arched brows rose mockingly. “Are you talking to the trees now?”

He shot her a glare. “You did not escape from Bedlam, did you?”

Evelyn shrugged, not insulted by the question. “You will never know.”

He snorted. “Have it your way, sweetheart. But I would’ve expected a little more gratitude toward the man who saved your life. Can you even grasp what might’ve happened if any other man came across you in your present,” he gave her a once over, “state? A lesser man may have been overwhelmed with admiration and lust and had his wicked way with you.”

What rot!

But the idea of
him
having his wicked way with her was a surprisingly appealing one, yet he seemed entirely unaffected by their impromptu kiss. Evelyn ran her gaze over his masculine form, taking in his broad shoulders, narrow hips, long muscular legs and then lastly, his buttocks. She wondered what he would do if she pinched them.

“Wicked way indeed,” she murmured. Her head started to throb again.

“I beg your pardon?” he shot her a look of complete surprise.

Had she said that out loud?

“Nothing,” she replied awkwardly under his penetrating gaze.

“Do you perhaps want me to have my wicked way with you, Evelyn?” His voice hoarse and throaty, the force of it sent little prickles down her spine.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I hardly know you,” she replied with false indignation, standing firm even while her legs felt unsteady. She needed to get rid of him, not encourage him. 

“Don’t play games with me, sweetheart.” There was a hint of warning in his voice. He stepped closer until he was so close, she could feel his breath on her cheeks.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“So you are not using my attraction toward you as a means to manipulate me?”

Evelyn blinked at his accusation, confused. Manipulation? Attraction?

“Now I know you cannot be serious,” she answered on a laugh. “I'm no beauty nor do men find me attractive. Which begs the question, what games are you playing?”

Matthew stared at her in disbelief. Not attractive? He saw the confusion in her eyes, saw curiosity. It appeared she truly believed she was no beauty.

“I don’t bother with games. I find you very attractive.”

To prove his point his lips found hers again in a hard and unrelenting kiss, his arms pulling her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. Just as quickly he let her go, and once again turned to walk away, leaving Evelyn to stare at his back, perplexed.

Her temper sparked. Not playing games was he? Well there would be no more games played. He can be sure of that.

“Gentleman my backside,” she muttered, moving to follow his lead.

Matthew chuckled. “You have a biting tongue, Evelyn. Be careful that it does not get you into trouble one day.”

“I’m merely commenting on the fact that you are not very gentleman like.”

“How very astute you are, madam. But then,” he paused for effect, “I have been in the company of a hoyden these past few hours.”

Evelyn wanted nothing more than to kick him again, but she managed to control the impulse. Still she was a bit breathless when she said, “You, sir, are a rake.”

“I have never been a rake, sweetheart, but the devil in me likes to play with little angels like you.”

What was this? Rogue code? “I’m hardly an angel.”

Her thoughts slipped back to the events of earlier. No, she was hardly an angel.

“You are an angelic creature, my dear.” He told her, his voice low and compelling. “You even taste like heaven.”

Her cheeks reddened. She was way out of her depth and dreadful at flirtation. Then again, it hardly mattered, she decided. Before this day was over she would be gone, and she would never see him again.

“Well, you are the first devil I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”

“I'm sure I won’t be your last,” he replied darkly.

Evelyn considered his statement. It was a casual assertion, but his tone made no pretense at it being a simple one.

“So, where are you traveling to?” she asked, guiding the subject back to a safer topic. She quickened her pace so that she could walk by his side.

“The lady is curious now, is she?” His dark eyes suddenly glinted with mischief as he glanced down at her.

“Absolutely.”

His finger came up to brush her cheek, and she tried to ignore the pleasant sensations stirring in her blood. She pressed on, “Not to mention good manners.”

“It appears that I have lost my manners.”

Evelyn snorted. “We should pick up the pace, lest we want to be soaked,” she murmured casting a worried glance at the darkened sky.

She was suddenly anxious to get away from him and the feelings he provoked in her. He could keep his secrets.

“Whatever the lady wishes.”

The Inn came into view the same time a droplet hit the point of Matthew’s nose. He glanced at Evelyn, noting her pensive expression. She intended to make a run for it. He knew it as certain as he knew the grass was green. She was a lady, of that he had no doubt. Her mention of a footman and maid confirmed it. Though he had suspected it from the first moment he met her. And yet she travelled alone. No gentleman worth his salt would let her continue on her journey without a proper escort.  Not that he claimed to be a gentleman worth his salt, but Evelyn was different.

“Is it a secret then, your destination?” He heard her ask behind him.

“You honestly cannot remember anything from the previous evening?” He sounded amused.

“I— Ah, well no, as I have said.”

“I have business to see to.”

Her nose wrinkled in annoyance. That was it? What a vexing vague man.

“Does your business including butchering or some other nefarious deed?”

“No.”

Evelyn tamped down her irritation. His moods were quite disconcerting. One moment he exuded charm, friendliness and passion and the next moment he was distant, cold and brooding. Also, he was too handsome for his own good.

“Did I spill my deepest, darkest secrets?” she asked in an attempt to get some answers.

He only snorted.

The man could try a saint. It vexed her to no end that he gave nothing of himself away. Evelyn decided to ignore him and his tiring moods. Instead, she focused on her aches and pains, men-tally counting all the places her body hurt.

He cast a sidelong glance in her direction, taking in her pallor, and slowed his pace until she strolled once more beside him. “You’re awfully quiet,” he remarked after a moment, breaking through her thoughts. “You’re not planning to leave without saying goodbye?”

Evelyn made a face behind. He hadn’t even broken stride.