A Taste of Seduction

by Bronwen Evans

  “Thank you.” At the same time he wondered if there was anyone else who would be worrying about her. As the doctor pointed out, she was a beautiful rich widow. Usually such ladies did not lack for company for long.

  “She was particularly worried about her son. He will wonder where she is if she is not there in the morning. She takes breakfast with him every day.”

  The word “son” hit him in his chest so hard, it was as if he’d been trampled by a bull. A big bloody bull. He had not heard she had a son, and all he could think was any son Evangeline had should have been his.

  Thank goodness she was not badly wounded. She had a son. A son who’d already lost his father. Guilt would destroy him if the little lad lost his mother too.

  As the haze of hurt and disappointment swirled, Mrs. Butler added, “She’s asking to see you.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. I know it’s late and you’ll need your sleep. I’m sorry to cause such trouble.”

  “It was not you who shot her. It could have been a lot worse. Praise the Lord no one was killed.” She crossed herself as she took her leave.

  He was tired, exhausted really, but he owed Evangeline an explanation. He made his way upstairs to her room, guilt and anger mixing to make his mood dark and dangerous.

  He knocked softly, hoping she’d drifted into sleep and this conversation could wait until the morning. However, a strong “Enter” was his reply.

  As he stepped into the room, two things struck him. One, the only woman he’d ever loved was finally in his bed, where he had always wanted her to be. Two, he still wanted the dream. Still wanted a life with her as his wife, wanted her to love him so much that she put him first rather than money or a title.

  He wanted a fantasy.

  He had promised to marry Claire.

  Claire would never lie to him. She didn’t care enough to. She would never break his heart either, as he cared not a jot for her. They would marry. She would do as her family desired, just as he would.

  He took the chair next to the bed. She looked pale but still beautiful. Desire was swimming in his blood, mixing with the guilt and the anger. “I’m so sorry you were hurt. It wasn’t my intention for you to get mixed up in this mess.”

  She shrugged. “Your words earlier this evening injured me far more than this silly bullet. The fact that you don’t believe me…well, it’s like you’ve taken a dagger to my heart.”

  His mouth fell open. He’d hurt her? Did she even begin to understand the depth of pain her sudden marriage to Viscount Stuart had caused him?

  He would not argue with her tonight. Her pallor and the slight gleam on her face indicated she was not as comfortable as she indicated.

  “Are you going to explain to me why someone is trying to kill you? Don’t deny it. If you had not bent down, the shot would have seen you in your grave.” She choked on the last two words, and her hands were gripping the sheets, her knuckles white.

  “Do not worry yourself. I can take care of myself.”

  She scoffed at his words. “Like you did tonight. You didn’t even have bodyguards with you.”

  “I had no idea, until tonight, that I was in such grave danger.”

  “But you knew you were in danger?”

  “Speaking of which, are you in danger, Evangeline? Is that why you have come to London to seek me out, hoping I’ll protect you?”

  “Why would you think that? It’s you the bullet was for.”

  He watched her face closely for signs of deceit, but her expression was open. Either she was a brilliant actress or she really did not feel she was in any danger. “The doctor mentioned you had unexplained injuries.”

  Her face closed immediately and a haunted look entered her eyes. “He should not have spoken to you of them.”

  He did not miss the word “them,” as if there were multiple injuries. “How did you get these injuries?”

  A tear tracked down one pale cheek, and his soul wanted to rage against the person who’d hurt her.

  “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you, since you have not believed a word I said to you tonight.”

  He wanted to believe her so badly, but it wasn’t just the letter that made her a liar. He had a witness.

  “You know I’d protect you regardless of our past. I’d never let anyone hurt a lady.”

  She relaxed back against the covers, looking forlorn. “I’m not the one in danger, you are. I know the truth.”

  He wouldn’t push her tonight, but he would learn who had hurt her. “What have the ladies told you?”

  She didn’t even pretend to misunderstand him.

  “Marisa may have told me a little of what is going on. Do not blame her—she was trying to explain how she ended up compromised.”

  Bloody interfering women.

  Over the following half hour Hadley explained the situation with the Libertine Scholars and their common enemy, and the latest intelligence they had gathered.

  “She’s going to kill you.” Her words were spoken quietly, and her face appeared even paler, if that was possible. She was genuinely worried for him, and the thought warmed him.

  Hadley simply shrugged. “Unlike my fellow Libertine Scholars, who are all first sons, it would appear there is no point ruining a second son. Killing is quicker and sends the appropriate message to the others.”

  —

  Evangeline looked at the man before her, really looked. She had never considered how sensitive he was to his second-son status, but he’d mentioned his station in life several times tonight. Had he been this concerned five years ago?

  Maybe her supposed betrayal had caused this lack of self-worth. He actually believed she had married another for money and a title.

  If he had received a forged letter on top of his insecurities, then it would be understandable for him to think so little of her. She was more determined than ever to see the letter, so that she could prove him wrong. She had a good idea how such a deception might have been achieved. Her mother had forged other people’s handwriting before, when the family needed credit.

  Right now, however, she was more concerned with the immediate danger Hadley faced.

  “What do you plan to do about this situation?”

  He would not meet her eyes. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business.”

  “This.” She pointed to her bandaged shoulder. “This makes it my business.”

  “I plan to find out who this woman is and stop her before she hurts anyone else I care for.”

  The great protector. He’d always been his brother’s keeper too. Hadley had always been there for anyone weaker or in need of help. When she’d saved Stowe, Hadley been so proud of her for standing up to Stowe’s bully of a father.

  But he hadn’t come to Scotland to rescue her, and now she knew why. He hadn’t believed in her.

  Her heart seized with worry. He would risk himself to bring De Palma down because he always put others before himself. That was what hurt her the most, because she’d pinned all her hopes on him saving her.

  She opened her mouth to speak again, but he held up his hand. “Let’s talk no more about this tonight. The doctor advised you to rest. Mrs. Butler has let your household know you will be here for a few days.”

  “I cannot stay here for—”

  He interrupted, “I forgot to mention that I hope Lady Coldhurst, Sebastian’s aunt, will be arriving shortly, so your reputation is safe. And if necessary I’ll send a missive to my mother. She left town only last week, but if I explain the situation, I’m sure she would return.”

  “I’m not worried about my reputation. But my son will fret without me.”

  She watched some deep emotion flicker in Hadley’s eyes at the mention of her son.

  “Your son is welcome to come and stay too. In fact, it may be safer for him to do so.”

  Evangeline’s throat dried. She could not bring Sealey here, not yet. Not until she gained an understanding of the man Hadley had become. So far she was not terribl
y impressed. And it would appear he was in danger.

  Sealey was a sensitive child and the move to London had unsettled him. He would fret without her. He wasn’t yet five and had not had a very pleasant upbringing until Dougal’s death. He was only just starting to blossom into a normal little boy. He would get anxious again if she was not home tomorrow when he woke up.

  “There is no need. I will be going home before dawn. My house is not far from here. Actually, I believe my townhouse’s garden backs onto your family’s garden.”

  She watched a myriad of emotions swarm over Hadley’s handsome face: relief, fear, anger, sadness.

  Sadness gave her hope. “Why don’t you show me this letter I supposedly wrote? I’d like to see it before I leave.”

  Hadley refocused on her, worry lining his face. “It’s too dangerous for you to leave. Bringing you here was a mistake. With all the talk about us, and then I bring you here, to my family home, society will assume a relationship. This could make you and your son a target.”

  Fear for her son made her pain fade away. “I need to go home,” she said, throwing back the covers with her good arm.

  He moved forward. “The doctor said—”

  “I don’t care what he said. My son is alone. I’m all he has.”

  Hadley saw she meant business because she began to rise from the bed. “I can send for him. You will both be safer here.”

  “No.” She didn’t mean the word to come out so harsh.

  Hadley’s head snapped back in surprise. “Why on earth not?”

  “He has recently lost his father, he’s come to a strange town and new house, and he is unsettled. I will not move him again.” Evangeline was amazed that she came up with such an excuse so quickly; however, it was very close to the truth.

  Hadley seemed to think on her words before saying, “I have already organized for Runners to guard your house. You must promise me not to leave the house without their protection.”

  She cocked her head to one side and looked at him. “Thank you. Plus, I may be able to help you.” In a whisper she added, “Marisa mentioned Arend’s fixation on Lady Victoria. It may not be unwarranted. I think there might be pertinent information on Victoria in my husband’s journals.”

  Hadley sat forward in his chair. “I beg your pardon?”

  “My husband was a vindictive man. He was also good friends with Victoria’s husband, and I know the sudden marriage to her upset him. He didn’t trust her. He began digging into her past, and the journals may contain the knowledge you seek.”

  “You could bring the journals here.”

  She shook her head. There were things in the journals she did not wish Hadley to see: things about her son, and things about how her husband had treated her. She would not share that with him. Ever.

  “They are heavy volumes and contain personal material. I really should be the one to go through them. I may even find the evidence I need to prove to you that your assumptions about me are wrong. That I did not marry for a title and money.” She was sure Dougal had confessed all in his journals.

  She saw the resignation in Hadley’s lovely eyes. All he cared about were the journals, not that he’d maligned her all these years.

  “It would be faster if both of us went through the journals,” he insisted.

  She barely hid her anger. “So now that I have something you want, you’re prepared to spend time in my presence.” He had the grace to drop his gaze from hers. “Until I see this letter, you will not be looking at those journals.”

  “I could fetch the letter now.”

  “No. I’m tired and I’m hurt. You can jolly well wait until it suits me. If you’d be so kind as to fetch my carriage, I intend to go home.”

  Hadley had the good sense not to argue with her. He must have realized it would not take much more for her to lose her temper completely. He walked over to the door and opened it to call for Mrs. Butler.

  Mrs. Butler entered and helped Evangeline move behind the screen so she could dress.

  “May I call on you tomorrow with the letter?”

  It was a little unsettling to realize Hadley had stayed while she changed. Gosh, he was like Sealey’s puppy with a bone. Part of her wanted to make him wait, but since he was in danger, and now she and Sealey might be in danger too, time was not a luxury they could afford.

  She came out from behind the screen, tiredness weighing heavily on her sore shoulder. Arguing took too much energy. “Shall we say three in the afternoon? And bring the forged letter.”

  —

  He wanted to say no, but he needed those journals. He wished he’d never told her that he still had the proof of her betrayal. He was lying to himself. The doubt that crept into his head from the doctor’s observation was eating at him. He had to know, firstly, if her tale was true, and secondly, who had hurt her.

  Plus, he was at least honorable enough to realize that after being shot she deserved consideration.

  More annoying was the fact that briefly seeing her in nothing but her sheer shift had his body humming—and not from tiredness. His mind couldn’t seem to remember why she was the enemy. Memories of long ago, memories that had taken a long time to forget, flooded back—vividly.

  He stood and walked to the door. “My men will see you safely home, and I shall call upon you at three.”

  As he pulled the door closed behind him, he thought he heard her say, “Then the truth will be revealed,” and a sickness invaded his stomach.

  If her story was true, how could he ever live with himself?

  Chapter 4

  Evangeline had been escorted safely home two hours ago, at five in the morning.

  She had agreed to allow guards to be posted in the grounds, with two in the foyer of the house, and he’d sent a missive to the Bow Street Runners requesting ten of their best men to keep the house under surveillance at all times. The Runners had been told that someone took a shot at Lady Evangeline.

  This didn’t help his second problem.

  She had the journals, and she refused to share unless he bared his soul. He shoved his hand into his pocket and fingered the letter, fighting an urge to crumple it in his fist. He was a coward for not wishing to face what he now suspected was the truth—her truth.

  What irked him more was that she was now back in his life in a way he could not control. He could not simply ignore her or send her back to the wilds of Scotland.

  And she’d found the weapon to wedge herself back into his life without having to prove her innocence. He’d need her either way—because he needed the journals.

  He pulled his cravat from around his neck, his throat tightening in anger. She would not let him peruse the journals unless he did her bidding.

  Lady Victoria Thompson deserved closer inspection. It would appear Arend’s hunch was a good one. What Evangeline had revealed about her husband not trusting Isobel’s stepmother confirmed that Arend was wise to focus his attention on her. Victoria had a secret past.

  A past she kept hidden.

  He glanced at the clock on the mantel. It had just gone seven in the morning, and he expected Arend soon. He needed to bathe and change before then. Wearily he stood and looked longingly at his bed; the impression of where Evangeline had lain was evident. He pressed his face to his pillow, loving the scent of her that lingered there.

  He drew back. If her story was true, how could she ever forgive him? Either way, there would be no future with Evangeline.

  He was marrying Claire.

  There was no time to rest or to dwell on what might have been. There was a killer he had to apprehend. He moved to the window to watch the sunrise. His rooms looked out over the back garden—ironically, directly into Evangeline’s townhouse. He’d had no idea that her husband owned the townhouse backing onto his family’s London home.

  He was pleased he hadn’t known. It would have been too much to bear, as if Viscount Stuart were mocking him.

  He stood watching the house over the garden wall. He wonder
ed whose room was exactly opposite his.

  He was about to turn away when a movement at the large windows stopped him. A curtain was drawn back and a child’s face pressed against the glass, probably looking out to see what kind of day it was. The sun was beginning to shine, but there were plenty of clouds about.

  He couldn’t make out the child’s face; he thought it was a boy with darkish, curly hair, though it could be a little girl. Hadley’s hands curled into fists as he realized this was likely Evangeline’s son.

  The little boy looked up and saw him staring, and a wee hand waved. Hadley waved back. An adult, probably his nanny, came up behind him and pulled the boy away from the window, and just like that, the boy was gone.

  A sense of loss swamped him, and he cursed at his own stupidity. How could a simple wave from a child have his stomach in painful knots?

  Because it was Evangeline’s child.

  Later, as he lay in his tub trying not to dwell on what should have been—his son with Evangeline—doubt began to creep in. What if she had been coerced into marriage? It would mean he had been played, duped, and she had paid the price. Paid it with brutality against her person. He pushed that horrible thought away.

  She seemed so sure she could prove her innocence in the matter, and that sent waves of unease through his limbs.

  Scotland, the Highlands in particular, were remote. What if the note he received had been a clever forgery and she hadn’t been able to get word to him? He swiped a hand over his face, scrubbing at the dark thoughts assailing him.

  He could feel the fortress around his heart begin to weaken.

  What did she want with him? If her story was true, there was no going back—not from this. However, no official announcement of his nuptials to Claire had been given; he could still back out. Augustus would simply have to front up and marry Claire if he wished to help his friend.

  If Evangeline was innocent, her return changed everything. If she forgave him, they could have a chance at a future, at regaining the past.

  But, he thought, she had a son who was a viscount. Her life should revolve around her son and protecting his inheritance. She certainly didn’t need a man like him in their lives, a man with little wealth or position.