She loosened her hat and set it aside while he dug around in the hamper and pulled out sandwiches and lemonade and sat beside her.
“You’re very quiet, Evan,” she observed while he poured the lemonade.
He arched a brow but said nothing.
“Yes, I know you’re not the most talkative of men, but you are exceptionally quiet. Does something bother you?”
“Not at all. I’m simply ill used to leisurely pursuits if you recall.”
The idea that he might confide in her niggled him. Would she understand why he must face the lord in a duel? Would she think him foolish for trying to go around the law and take Eleanor away from her husband? But, again, it was too risky. No one could know of his involvement in Eleanor’s plans. He only hoped Lord Ashby was too ashamed to share what he knew—if he knew of Evan’s involvement that was. If it was found out, the other lady he had helped could be in grave danger from her husband.
“You’re not the easiest of men to entertain, I shall give you that.” She tucked a smile behind the brim of her glass.
“Whatever do you mean? I merely meant I seldom take time away from responsibility but here it sounds as though you have me marked as a difficult man.”
She leaned into him, her arm brushing his and chuckled. The sound did something strange to his insides—knotted them tight and held him captive.
“Oh, Evan, you are the most difficult man I’ve ever met and also the most surprising.”
“Surprising? How so?”
Lilly peered up at him, her pale eyes arresting him. “Underneath that gruff, arrogant exterior you are a good, kind and patient man.”
Evan pondered this, trying to decide whether to take offence. Yes, he could be cold and distant—something many mistook for arrogance he supposed—but he had little time to pander to the needs of others. Damnation, he had responsibilities. He couldn’t waste time with soft notions. But she thought him patient? Had she not witnessed his awful temper? He shook his head.
“What? You don’t agree?”
“I agree with much of your assessment, Lilly, but I have little patience.”
“You’ve been patient with me. For example, on our first night together.”
Inwardly, he grimaced. He had tried his hardest to be a gentleman but he had been so lost in the feel of her, he’d not given her the time she needed. Somehow, he had made the experience uncomfortable for them both. Thank the Lord they had overcome it and proved his original assertions true—they were extremely good together in bed.
“I don’t think I showed enough patience. In fact, I have little patience when it comes to you.” He reached out and took a curl, wrapped it around his finger. With his gaze, he traced her pale pink lips and soft cheeks. “You steal all of it. I find myself impatient to be deep inside you for the better part of every day.”
Those pretty lips parted and over the babble of the stream and the birds chittering above, he heard her long intake of breath. Her tongue darted out to skim across her bottom lip and she laid down her glass.
“Do you... do you wish to be buried inside me now?”
He groaned at her words—at how innocent yet tempting they sounded. Her sweet little voice uttering words that made his pulse accelerate like a steam train, pounding through him with an inevitability he could not fight.
Yes, he wished to be buried inside her. Yes, he longed to make love to her until she screamed his name. No, he did not wish to end this... but he had no choice.
Instead of saying anything, he cupped her face and took her mouth in a firm kiss. She clung to his neck as he pressed her back against the blanket. The sound of her dress being crushed mirrored that of his control. She had taken a hammer to it and crumbled it. Driven by the knowledge he had such little time left with her, he pressed the kiss deeper and a rumbling noise escaped him when her tongue met his.
One hand still cupping her face, he fumbled at the front of her gown. “Bloody corset,” he grumbled when unable to slip her breasts from their confines. She laughed and he gave up, instead stealing a hand down under her skirts and in through the slit of her drawers.
Her voluminous skirts hindered his progress but nothing could come between him and his prize. Sweet, wet heat greeted his fingers and they both moaned. He stroked her deftly as he kissed her over and over, matching the movements of his fingers. It seemed to him he had only been touching her for a few moments—maybe it was longer—when she tensed against him, nails digging into his neck and arm while she shuddered through her pleasure.
Lilly’s breathy gasps made his body impossibly tight and he had no choice but to slide between her legs and free himself from his trousers. Thankfully her recent orgasm let him slip easily between the slit in her underwear and plunge straight into her.
His skull pounded as though someone was taking a hammer to it. The tightness and heat of her sent blood coursing through his veins. He clenched his jaw and took a moment to gather his breath. If he wasn’t careful he would make a damned fool of himself.
She trembled around him when he began to move, her body spasming on the verge of another orgasm. Lilly had always been wonderfully responsive but never to the point of coming from a mere stroke. How much more would he have been able to learn of her body if he had the time?
Grasping his neck, she hooked her legs around his hips, burying him in swathes of blue fabric. The lifting of her hips brought him deeper and she whispered his name. Any remaining restraint snapped and he stuttered out her name in response before drawing back and slamming into her.
She took it all, responding with delightful sounds of pleasure as he pounded into her over and over. He uttered her name in time to his thrusts. Other words spilled from him—staccato compliments about her beauty, how hot and tight she was, how he could not get enough of her. He had no control over his tongue at all.
Lilly clenched her eyes shut and he drew back enough to see her lids fly open when the crest struck. He felt her strong, shuddering response and saw her lips part, her eyes widen. It was too much. Collapsing against her, his head buried in her neck, he took one final lunge and filled her. The hot, pulsing sensation continued on endlessly until he was breathless and shaking.
Her hands smoothed up and down his back and into his hair, as though comforting a child. He took in the feminine fragrance of her and swore to never forget the sensation of being so joined with her.
Evan made to withdraw but she clamped him to her with her arms. “Don’t go.”
Her words made him still. Did she mean something else? No, she could not. She knew nothing of his plans. “I’m squashing you.”
“Yes, but in a nice way.”
“I shall ruin your dress.”
“This from the man who once tore my dress practically in two?”
He resigned himself to lying there a few more minutes, feeling his resolve crumbling once more. But all he had to do was recall the fear in her eyes at his lost temper and it returned. Finally, he withdrew and rolled over to find a napkin. He handed it to her so she could clean herself up.
“I don’t suppose Mrs Hargreaves thought we would be using those for such a purpose,” he commented.
“No, I don’t suppose she did,” Lilly said with a smile.
“Well, what Mrs Hargreaves does not know will not hurt her.” He propped himself on an elbow and stared down at her flushed face. He didn’t mention that it was likely the house keeper would know full well what they had been doing when they returned with crumpled clothing and errant bits of grass covering them. Evan pulled one of the offending bits of foliage from Lilly’s hair.
With her curls loosened and her eyes shining bright from her orgasm, she had never looked so beautiful. Evan was not one for poetry but he felt the odd urge to spout something of beauty and radiance. He smirked at himself. Damn fool.
“What?”
Blast, the woman was too perceptive. “You’re beautiful, Lilly.”
Instead of denying it, she gave him a grateful smile. “Tha
nk you.”
“You don’t wish to argue the case with me?” he asked, surprised.
“When I make love to you, I feel beautiful.”
Each sweet, agreeable word she uttered made his insides crumble just a little more. He almost longed to have a blazing argument with her to make leaving easier but he feared he would fall prey to her just as easily then too. Evan had to admit to enjoying the way her eyes flashed when angry and how her voice trembled with her passion. Who could not find such fervour admirable? It seemed he found every facet to her fascinating. Frustrating indeed, when he needed to put her from his mind and accept he would have to let her go very soon.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lilly scribbled angrily across another failed sketch. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make her hand do as she commanded. She scowled at her failed scenery and cast the pad aside with a huff.
She turned the chair from the beautiful panorama and slumped, arms folded across her chest. Her drawing from two days ago was ruined now, all because she couldn’t focus. Evan had only departed a couple of hours ago, shortly after breakfast, but her stomach churned with unease. This was not just her missing him, this was something else.
He had made love to her again several times during the night. There had been a desperation to it. The words he spoke... She shook her head. She had never heard him speak like that before. Frantic, harsh compliments. Talk of her beauty and how lost he was when he made love to her. It was so unlike the man she knew—the one who remained in control at all times.
Blowing out a breath, she stomped to the back of the house and through the kitchen. Mrs Hargreaves let out a startled exclamation but Lilly ignored her and pressed past Anne to step into the store room. She eyed the gun cabinet and pulled it open. It only took her a few moments to find the box Evan had laid out on the kitchen table the other night. She lifted it down, heart sinking when she felt how light it was and carried it to the kitchen. Mimicking him that night, she placed it on the table and opened it.
A little sound of horror escaped her. The pistols were gone. He was going to do something about this Eleanor woman. She just knew it. Deep in her bones, she understood Evan had been saying goodbye to her. What did he intend to do? Kill the husband? And why? This woman had to mean a lot to him for him to want to risk a hanging.
Mrs Hargreaves came to her side. “The master has taken his guns.”
Lilly nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“He is going to do something foolish?”
She turned to face the thin, dour-faced woman. Though Mrs Hargreaves had never been particularly warm to her, they had come to a good understanding and she trusted the woman implicitly.
“I think he is going to kill a man.”
The housekeeper nodded. “He was going to help that woman you know—the one who died?”
“How do you know this?”
“I know everything, Miss Claremont. Besides, I have my sources in London. His housekeeper in London, Mary, sends me letters. He was intending to help this woman.”
“Help her? How?”
Mrs Hargreaves narrowed her gaze before apparently making a decision. “The master aided a woman before. Her husband beat her, and Lord Hawksley helped her escape and sheltered her at the estate in Scotland.”
Lilly pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Evan had helped a woman escape her violent husband? No wonder he wanted it kept silent. If the husband or even the law found out he had interfered in their marriage, the consequences could be dire. But while she understood why he might help a woman in distress, she couldn’t fathom what had driven him to such lengths in the first place. It was certainly a drastic move to smuggle a woman away and risk everything.
Lord, she had misjudged him so terribly. Yes, she knew him better now but to think she had even considered him so callous and cruel even briefly sent a stabbing sensation to her heart. Even the thought that maybe this woman had been his mistress or a lover vanished. Had he not always been brutally honest with her?
She lowered her hand and pondered the empty box. He might die, she realised, or else end up in jail. The pain in her chest increased until she feared she might swoon from it.
“Is all well, Miss Claremont?” Mrs Hargreaves prodded, grey eyes oddly soft with understanding.
“I must stop him.”
The housekeeper thinned her lips. “He will not be happy to have you involved.”
“I care not. We can’t let him do such a thing. He must not be thinking clearly. If he fears for this other lady too, then he must do nothing. If he is arrested, his actions will come to light and she shall be sent back to her husband.”
Mrs Hargreaves nodded slowly. “You are right, miss. And I have little desire to see him harmed.”
“Good.” Lilly’s stomach churned. “I shall catch the next train to London. Can you have the carriage made ready please?”
“You must take someone with you. Anne will accompany you.”
She shook her head firmly. “No, if it is dangerous, I shall put no one else in danger. Besides I think I have a better chance of persuading him to return on my own.”
“The master will not be happy that you are out unaccompanied.”
“The master will have to tolerate it.”
Mrs Hargreaves opened her mouth and closed it again before speaking. “Miss Claremont, should you come to harm, I don’t know how the master shall react.”
Warmth soothed the ache in her heart at the housekeeper’s words. Did she mean Evan had a high regard for her? She could not help but hope so even if it was a fool’s hope. What could come of such feelings? She had around ten months left with him—if he survived his ridiculous plans—and after that, she might never see him again.
She laid a hand over the housekeeper’s, felt her bony hand flinch and offered a smile. “I have little intention of doing anything other than bringing Evan home. All shall be well, I swear.”
The woman’s shoulders softened a little and she offered her a reluctant smile in return. “Let us hope so, miss.
Lilly lifted her hand away and drew herself straight. Nerves thrummed through her at the thought of going to London—a place she had never been—alone. To find a man intent on murder no less. She had little other choice but to go. The alternative was unthinkable. She would not have Evan taken away from her.
***
By late afternoon the train pulled into Paddington Station. Lilly twined her fingers together as it squealed to a stop and steam hissed through the air. The husband and wife opposite her gave her a sympathetic smile. Thankfully they had been kind when she had explained she was travelling to London alone because of a death in the family. She only prayed her lie would not prove prophetic and Evan was yet unharmed. Having never been to London before, she was grateful to Mr and Mrs Smythe, who it turned out lived not far from Kensington in the slightly less opulent area, for offering to share their carriage.
Mr Smythe, a doctor, declared he would not like to see her unaccompanied in London when she didn’t know the city at all. Lilly had hardly considered what might happen when she arrived. She knew only the address of Evan’s residence, but had no idea how to find it. Her original hope had been that she could find a carriage and the driver would know where to go.
Opening the door, Mr Smythe ushered her out. Lilly took a moment to peer around the vast station. A great glazed roof spanned the station and she gaped up at the wrought iron supports. She had seen the station on postcards and remembered her father speaking of when it had been built, but photos did it little justice.
Around her, people pushed and shoved. Steam escaped from the train, suffusing the air and had Lilly not been filled with nervous energy already, she would have been by now. The noise and bustle, the whistles and hisses and screeches of trains, made her wince. Her eyes had to be as wide as they could go. She shrank back as a group of rough looking men pushed past from third class. How foolish to think she could do this on her own. She didn’t realise how isolated and p
rotected she really had been.
“Shall we, Miss Claremont?” Mrs Smythe prompted.
She nodded frantically, grateful for the kindly woman’s support. She reminded her of an older version of her mother. Small, pretty, with an expression that invariably spoke of patience. Her grey curls peeked out from under her cap and surrounded flushed cheeks. Lilly had found herself taking to her as soon as she had stepped into the carriage with them.
Following their lead, Lilly pushed through the congested platform until they spilled out onto the street. The noise and commotion was no less here. Carriages crowded the streets and the pavements were busier than she had ever seen in any of the places she had visited. She straightened her shoulders and tried her best to appear as though none of this daunted her, lest she stand out like a stranger. Folks from all walks of life mingled on the streets and some of the fashions she saw rivalled that of even Evan’s sister-in-law.
Mr Smythe led them to a waiting carriage and aided her in. Once sat, he grinned in her direction. “London is quite something, is it not, Miss Claremont?”
“It is. Do I give myself away?”
“As new to London? A little, my dear, but do not be concerned. There are many newcomers to London every day. You concern yourself with your family and nothing else.”
Guilt pricked at her but she shook it away. If they knew the circumstances, would they be any less sympathetic? They were good people but would likely not wish to share their carriage with a mistress.
“What a shame your mother and father never brought you to London before. It is a fine place for a woman to meet a husband,” Mrs Smythe commented.
Lilly remained silent, not wishing to dash the woman’s view of her. Little did she know, Lilly’s chances of ever marrying were slim.
The carriage jostled to a start and she turned to peer out of the window. She had never been anywhere like it and everywhere she looked were fascinating buildings and people. She imagined it would take days to explore even half of what London had to offer. If only she were here under different circumstances.
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