An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady (5 page)

Lord Harry Spencer.

If she hadn’t overheard him plotting to compromise her, she would never have left the comfort of her home. She would never have continued without her maid and her carriage would never have broken down. She would never have indulged in wine and she would never have stumbled into Matthew’s bedroom.

“Evelyn?”

His voice pulled her out of her reverie. Coming to her feet swiftly she moved to stand by the window, staring at the storm raging outside. Could it have been fate that created all these extraordinary circumstances so that she could meet Matthew?

“What is it that you want to know?” she murmured softly. If she had any hope of getting rid of him she would need to answer his questions. This had not been the hand of fate.

She heard the scrape of his chair and felt rather than saw him come up beside her. He took her hand in his. Her traitorous heart jumped at the simple touch.

“I have a confession.”

Saints, now he had a confession. She didn’t think she could survive a confession, but still, she craned her neck to search his face. Goodness but he was tall. She barely reached his shoulder. He truly made an intimidating figure. Their eyes locked, and it felt as though he gazed straight into the depths of her soul.

“Oh,” she heard herself murmur when she recognized the desire in his eyes.

Taking a step closer he leaned forward and whispered softly, “From the first moment I laid eyes on you, stumbling into my room, I've felt something that I've never felt before.”

Oh my. Evelyn swallowed. Her mouth suddenly dry.

“You feel it too,” he said matter of fact. “I know you do.”

She did not deny it. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. Not only would it be a lie, but she couldn’t form a single word of reply.

Matthew watched her violet eyes widen with fascination and curiosity. She had beautiful eyes— large and intelligent. They were shadowed by thick dark lashes giving her a dreamy countenance. He could stare into them forever. A whisper of familiarity echoed through his mind and he frowned down on the mysterious Evelyn. Nothing about her added up. She was a lady, of that he had no doubt, yet she hardly acted like a one. She was an innocent, yet ran around stealing horses while scarcely dressed. Instinct urged him to demand she reveal all her secrets, or walk away and pray he never encountered her again. Everything about her was dangerous to his heart. He ought to leave her be, yet wasn't ready to let her go.

Her scent filled his senses. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. Looking at her now she emanated radiance and brightness. It held him captivated.

“I want you.”

“You— Ah—” Whatever she was about to say died in her throat as she caught the truth in his eyes. He saw her swallow. “You do?”

His response was a lazy purr. “I do, and you want me too.”

“What? I—”

He leaned closer and bent his head to the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her.

“You smell delicious,” he murmured against her skin.

He heard the ragged draw of her breath, but she didn't pull away. He was astonished that he had to struggle to resist taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

“It— It’s the soap,” Evelyn stammered, her voice trembling. 

Matthew smiled when he saw her shiver at his touch.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” she asked brazenly.

He lifted his head to study her. He could see the desire in her eyes, a hint of curiousness calling to the predator in him. Her tongue flickered out to moisten her lips.

Desire slammed through him.

He clenched his fists at his side. “Do you want me to kiss you, sweetheart?” He needed to hear her say it.

She bit her lip. Common sense warned her that this was not a man to be trifled with and yet her body wanted him in a way she did not understand. In the end common sense won out, he was just too dangerous.

“No,” she said on a breathless whisper.

“Liar,” he chided softly. “You want me to kiss you. You wanted me to kiss you this morning and you want me to kiss you now. What’s more, Evelyn, you want to kiss me back. Admit it.”

Evelyn opened her mouth and closed it again. His green eyes held her captivated to the point of speechlessness.

“Evelyn.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, a pleading note. To hell with her saying it! What he saw in her eyes was all the encouragement he needed. He took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips parted in a small gasp and he did not wait for her to press them together before deepening the kiss. For a moment she stood rigid in his arms, then a soft moan escaped her and she leaned deeper into him. His body pressed against hers, backing her into the wall. Slanting his head he urged her to open even more to him.

Then just as suddenly she shoved at his chest, breaking out of his embrace. “We cannot do this Matthew,” she protested weakly.

He closed his eyes at the sound of his name. “One kiss Evelyn,” he breathed raggedly. “Only one more.”

Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest. In the back of her mind Evelyn knew this was dangerous. She should ask him to leave, but she could not stop herself from wanting one more kiss.

Moving as if in a dream, she gently placed her hands on each side of his face, lifting herself onto her toes and kissed him, the scent of sandalwood making her senses swim. She felt his left hand move to her waist and pull her closer against him. The kiss changed then. His lips became more searching, insistent.

She hesitated, but then decided to the devil with it. She wanted to be kissed senseless, by him. This would be their moment. She’d barely finished the thought when he broke away, breathing hard. She stared at him confused, while he stared at her with wonder, his arm still around her waist.

“Evelyn, if we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop.”

He was so tall, so strong, so overpowering and yet his reassuring hand on her waist was gentle. In that moment Evelyn desperately wanted to say yes. Yes to everything he wanted from her. But giving herself to him would mean giving up her independence. She knew, without a doubt, that if she said yes now, he would take over her life in a heartbeat. He would expect nothing less than her full surrender.

“I cannot.” She took a step back, out of his arms. It had been nothing but a moment of insanity. 

Matthew forced his hands to let go of her when she stepped back. His body raged with suppressed desire and he had to fight the urge not to show her just how much she wanted him. He would let her go, for now. There was something between them, too powerful to ignore. Every instinct in his body told him they would be good together, so he could not make a wrong move now. He would have to treat her with care and thought, or risk spooking her. But he would not stop until he had her in his bed.

His jaw tightened. It was time to find out exactly who she was and what she was up to.

“Join me for dinner,” he said, daring her to refuse.

“Why?” Evelyn asked defiantly.

Matthew smiled a knowingly. “Because we both need to eat and I don’t want to eat alone.”

“Very well,” she conceded. It seemed innocent enough. She could also use this opportunity to learn more about him. “Dinner would be lovely, thank you.”

Stepping closer, Matthew took her hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist. “Until this evening, Evelyn.”

Evelyn watched him leave with apprehension. She did not believe for one second that his calm demeanor was anything but. She’d seen the predatory look that entered his eyes when she’d said no. Leaving as soon as possible was the only option.  

Chapter 4

At exactly seven o’clock Evelyn entered the dining room, prepared for anything, except the sight of Matthew, freshly bathed and dressed informally, with just a waistcoat and the sleeves of his white linen shirt rolled up to the elbows, revealing strong bare forearms. He stood when he saw her enter and Evelyn tried not to stare at his muscled arms during a breathless moment in which her heart fluttered in her chest.

“You look ravishing.”

She nearly snorted, but then she took in their surroundings. Not a nary soul besides the two of them occupied the room and candles illuminated the table in an all too romantic way. Their eyes met. Held.

“I hope you don’t mind, but they only have beef stew on the menu tonight.”

“I don’t mind, no,” Evelyn murmured. “I take it none of the other visitors are partial to beef stew then?”

“Astonishing, I know.”

An awkward silence ensued as Evelyn took the seat he held out for her, his hand brushing against the back of her neck, causing a trembling sensation to pulse down her spine.

Matthew was the first to break the silence. “So, do you have any family, Evelyn?”

“Yes. I have a brother.”

Her direct answer surprised him and he regarded her intently before he asked, “Does your brother not care that you are traveling alone?”

“I’m not traveling alone,” Evelyn said innocently. “But even if I were, it would not be any of your concern.”

His lips twitched. He would let her believe that. For now.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?”

“I am fortunate enough to be an only child,” Matthew replied, but then added, “Although I do have a Dane named Copper.”

She tilted her head. What an odd thing to say. She tried to imagine him as a boy. She could see him as a little scruffy lad running around the house with dog named Copper. She could not imagine growing up without her brother, Simon. “You named you dog Copper?” she asked, a smile spreading across her face. “What a silly name for a dog.”

“It seemed fitting at the time,” Matthew said gruffly, entranced by the soft corners of her mouth. “Why are you not married?”

The question was so sudden Evelyn jerked in response. His eyes observed her reaction like a hawk. Yet in them she could see nothing except blatant curiosity. Evelyn wasn’t fooled. She con-templated how to answer his question. For some reason, she did not want him to know about her dreams of becoming a world renowned traveler. He did not strike her as a man to indulge such desires.

“I have not met a man I wish to marry.”

Her meaning was clear.

“Have you met many men, Evelyn?”

She shrugged. “I suppose as many as one would expect to meet, Mr. Langdon.”

“I see.”

“You see a lot, sir.”

He chuckled, and Evelyn found herself staring at his mouth. What a marvelous sound. What marvelous lips. She remembered those lips on hers. What marvelous kiss.

“I see as much as one would expect to see, Evelyn.”

His words brought her out of her musings. She could not help but smile back at him, suspecting this wasn’t a side one often saw from him. It made her feel warm inside. His next words however filled her with icy dread.

“You are traveling to Bath, I presume?”

Evelyn’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest. He could not possibly have deduced that from anything she had said to him, she told herself.

“My apologies, Evelyn,” he said suddenly, his hand reaching out to touch hers in reassurance. “It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable. I am merely curious.”

Evelyn did not believe him. Every word uttered from his devilish mouth was calculated and served an ulterior purpose. He had his reasons for being curious; she just didn’t know what they were.

“I am not inclined to share my story with a stranger.”

“Am I a stranger, Evelyn? I recall us being, quite intimate.”

Her face flamed.

He leaned closer, the heat in his eyes setting her ablaze. “There is something here, between us. Something I believe is worth exploring.”

She swallowed. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. “That would not be wise.”

“Why? I know you feel it too. I felt it in the way you kissed me back. Don’t deny it.”

She didn’t. “Be that as it may, it can never happen again. I’m sorry if my behavior led you to believe that there can be anything more than our shared kisses, but there cannot.”

Matthew said nothing, only stared at her steadily. He sat back, wanting to push, but instinct and thirty years of existence warned him not to.

“I see.”

Their stew arrived and Evelyn heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for the maid’s timing. A moment longer under his penetrating gaze and she would have expired on the spot. The duration of the dinner past mostly in uncomfortable silence, Matthew avoided questions of a personal nature, only remarking on the food and weather and Evelyn ate as fast as she was able, refusing his offering of wine. Only later, when she was in her room alone, did her hands begin to shake.

The next morning the activities outside in the courtyard were a source of obsession for Evelyn, watching it from her bedroom window. Coaches were arriving and leaving as the onlookers bustled about, their lively laughter filling the air. The drivers whistled at the women that were sashaying about, smiling provocatively at any gentlemen who caught their fancy. The rain had finally stopped pouring about an hour ago and almost everyone was outside, relieved to be able to continue on their journeys. Horses were being groomed and walked about, but only one horse in particular held Evelyn’s attention. A beast she would never forget. And he was being saddled for his rider.

He was leaving.

Her relief did nothing to sooth her disappointment. Where will his journey take him, and would he spare her a thought once he was there?

They’d avoided each other since the awkward dinner the previous night. Something felt off, however. Evelyn couldn’t put a name to what exactly, but it was a gnawing feeling that would not dissipate.

The previous day, there had been a moment when all her senses were so completely aware of  the attraction that pulsed through her veins that she would have surrendered to every inch of him, if he had asked. But it had only lasted a moment. He was not a man that would be used. And perhaps that was the off-ness that she sensed. She only wished she could make sense of him, or this attraction. There was something very tormented and soulful about him, as though he was haunted, that pulled her into his web. She could not help but be enthralled.

But he was leaving.

Evelyn had been certain he would insist on escorting her, or perhaps it’d never been his intention to insist upon it, perhaps he would just escort her without her consent. How like a man that would be.

The sight of him striding purposefully to his groom caught her attention. He spoke, his head bent low, motioning to the Inn. Now that’s not at all suspicious, Evelyn thought dryly as she viewed the scene unfolding in the distance.

Her wayward footman had sent word that their carriage would be ready by sunset. She’d also learned that he had fallen in love with one of the scullery maids. The two of them planned to elope. As romantic as that might be, it was impossible not to feel envious. Evelyn had never heard of two people falling in love so quickly. It must be wonderful to have such trust in someone so implicitly.

It was one of the main reasons Evelyn had chosen a life of independence to pursue her dreams rather than marriage. Once you chose a partner, you entrusted to them your life. How could anyone be trusted with such a life altering decision?

But then, it hardly mattered what choice you made. It would still be the last big choice you ever made, since if you married, you became the property of your husband, and he would then continue to make all your big choices for you.

These past two days, on the other hand, gave Evelyn some insight as to why a woman would still sign her freedom away. She understood now why people gave in to the lure of their desires—the fantasy of love. The illusion was quite brilliant, really. But the fact remained, desire would never equal love.

It’s probably why the majority chose more practical methods of choosing their partners, like wealth and standing. Matthew was no exception to the rule. He bled masculine appeal and power. A powerful combination any woman would find very hard to resist.

She was finding it very hard to resist.

But Evelyn had long ago accepted love did not exist in physical attraction, only the illusion of it. Love only existed in purest form of friendship. If that could not be achieved between partners in marriage, then love would never grow.

Evelyn’s own parents had been an example of what happened when no form of friendship existed between partners. It’s why it had been so easy for her to decide to follow her dreams instead of joining the marriage march.

No sound reached her ears, nothing to warn Evelyn of his presence except the sudden ripple of awareness that drew her from her musings. 

Matthew.

She turned. He stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed and imposing as ever. A wave of euphoria hit her—as though she did know him, as though they had met before. Only she could not call to mind where she thought she recognized him from. Perhaps she recalled him from her own fantasies, the ones where her hero saves her and carries her off to his castle. Evidently he appealed to her in every degree, and that made him dangerous indeed.

He stared at her, taking count of everything, even the stray hair hanging down her cheek. So this was it then. Would he insist on escorting her or would they say their goodbyes in a civil manor? She would much have preferred sneaking away in the cloak of night, but that wasn’t an option anymore.

“You are leaving.” It wasn’t a question. She wanted to hear him say it even if only to put her suspicions to rest.

She thought she saw disappointment flash briefly in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink.

“I will be back before dawn. There are things I need to see to,” he said. His face was devoid of expression and his tone solemn.

Evelyn presumed he wanted confirmation she would still be here when he returned.

Her chin lifted and a spark of defiance entered her eyes. “I will not be here when you return.”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I will not be here—”

“I heard you the bloody first time. What I want to know is why?” he growled.

Evelyn straightened at his tone. “While I have grown fond of this establishment it’s only natural for me to continue on my journey.”

He took a menacing step forward until he loomed over her in an intimidating fashion. “I will escort you.”

“But what of your business you need to see to?”

“It can wait.”

Evelyn’s resolve faltered as her mind searched for a reason to give him that would assure his departure, without her. The lie slipped out before she could stop herself, “I’m afraid that won’t do. I am to meet my betrothed.”

She watched in apprehension as his mouth opened to speak and then closed again. His eyes glazed over as he seemed to grow taller before her eyes.

“You are betrothed?”

Evelyn angled her face away so he wouldn’t see the truth in her eyes. She inwardly applauded her halfwit mind. It was the worst possible lie to utter.

“Who the hell is your betrothed and why did you lie when I asked you why you haven’t married?” he snarled, his voice sharp and venomous.

Evelyn’s mind raced at how to answer that question. She could give him any name and any name would still be the wrong answer.

It still did not stop her from blurting the first name that popped into her head, “Damien Granville, the Marquis of St. Aldwyn.” 

She immediately regretted her decision. The Marquis was her brother’s best friend, and a notorious rake. Not only would he never marry, he would never waste his time in the country. Evelyn wrinkled her nose, suddenly distracted with her own thoughts. Damien really was a poor choice of husband. If Matthew came from her world, as she suspected he did, he would never believe that the Marquis would be betrothed, least of all to her. She needn’t have worried however. Matthew’s face had drained of all color.

Evelyn took a step back when his eyes turned hard and furious. His shoulders bunched and his hands fisted at his side, the tension almost unbearable.

“Tell me,” his voice low and hoarse, “why you never mentioned you were engaged?” The last was forced out between clenched teeth.

Evelyn shivered, but said, “It did not seem relevant.”

His eyes widened before they narrowed threateningly. “Not relevant? We shared a bed, we kissed. Intimately. And it did not seem relevant?”

Evelyn cringed. She was such an idiot. “Damien and I have an understanding—of sorts.” With every word she sank deeper into a black abyss.

“You have an understanding?” Matthew gave a cynical laugh. “So you make a habit of getting foxed and climbing into strange men’s beds? Kissing other men?” he growled, looming over her small figure. “He is going to marry a trollop, though I’m sure he will understand." The last was an unforgivable insult.