“Then tell me the truth.”
Surrendering to her will, he gave a quick nod and said, “Miss Edwina Jenkins set her sights on me about five years ago. Every time I would visit the village, she would fall into step beside me, and every time I attended a dance, she would present me with her dance card, leaving me with no choice but to partner with her.”
“So she was determined.”
“Exceedingly so.” Swiping his palm across his jaw, he continued by saying, “I tried to show polite disinterest, but that didn’t seem to dissuade her. And then I got engaged to Viscount Trenwick’s daughter, Lady Rose.” Seeing how Eve’s mouth suddenly flattened into a firm line, he reached up to cup her cheek. “It would have been a practical arrangement with no emotional attachment. You mustn’t think…I would hate for you to suppose my feelings for her were anything close to what they are for you.”
Eve’s lips edged slightly upward at one corner. “Go on.”
Gathering his composure, Bryce did his best to tell the rest of the story. “Miss Jenkins became incredibly jealous. She wanted me for herself, but since I’d gotten engaged, there was no way to make that happen unless—”
“Unless you compromised her so thoroughly, you would have no choice in the matter.”
“Precisely.”
And now for the delicate part. There was really no tiptoeing around it if she truly wanted all the facts. Which he could tell she did. So he took a fortifying breath and proceeded.
“At the last assembly hall dance I attended, a servant brought me a note summoning me to one of the private supper rooms. It appeared to come from Lord Trenwick, with the insistence I join him for a discussion about my impending marriage to his daughter. But when I arrived at the designated meeting spot, the room was empty. No one seemed to be there until I turned around to leave and found Miss Jenkins blocking my path.” He recalled the awful sense of foreboding that had snaked its way through his belly. “She closed the door, locked it, and slipped the key into her décolletage.”
“Good lord,” Eve murmured. “She was a predator.”
If only the rest of the world had been as astute, Bryce mused. “Before I knew what was happening, she’d…” He looked away, unable to meet Eve’s gaze while he said this next part. “She tore the front of her gown, flung herself onto the table, and hitched up her skirts, exposing herself completely.” His voice strained to get the details out while rage and frustration crashed through him. “Someone came to the door and started knocking, at which point she started to make certain sounds.”
Eve had gone completely still. Her eyes were wide and stricken with horror. “She pretended you were…that you were…” When he nodded, she slapped a hand over her mouth and produced an anguished groan. “I’m so sorry.”
Nodding, he hastened to tell her the rest. “The door was forced open by Trenwick himself. He didn’t seem to notice none of my own clothing was out of place. Instead, he punched me. I fell back onto Miss Jenkins, which is what Lady Rose witnessed when she arrived in the room. Naturally, I was encouraged to marry Miss Jenkins, but since I knew misery was unavoidable at that point, I chose to face it without her. Word spread, my friends and family took her side, and…well, here we are.”
A long moment of silence followed Bryce’s admission. He didn’t know what else to say, though he tried to think of something. Eve had said she’d believe him. She’d seemed like she did while he’d given his account. But her inward contemplation unsettled him because he couldn’t discern what she was thinking or if he’d actually managed to convince her of his innocence.
Finally, when he began to fear she would stand up and leave the room without saying another word, she pulled her foot down off the stool and lowered herself to her knees before him, taking his hands between her own. “Ravenworth.” The look in her eyes was so incredibly tender. “Will you give me your Christian name?”
His chest squeeze around his expanding heart. “It’s Bryce.”
“Bryce.” It whispered across her lips with aching sensuality. And then she said, “What Miss Jenkins did to you is unforgiveable. That you should have to suffer for it, more so. You’re a good man though, a kind and generous man, the sort of man who deserves to be loved.”
Swallowing, Bryce held himself in check and gazed down into her open expression. The truth was in her eyes, so overpowering he could scarcely credit it. Yet he needed to hear her say it before allowing himself to hope. “What are you telling me, Eve?”
“That I know you did nothing wrong and that I love you.”
Her declaration was perfect in its simplicity. It was also the one thing capable of weakening the tightly held control he’d been maintaining since the moment she’d entered this room for the very first time.
“I love you too, Eve.”
He wasn’t sure if she rose up toward him or if he dipped his head toward her. Perhaps it was a mutual coming together, but all that mattered was that his lips were finally pressed over hers and that he was kissing her with every bit of his heart.
Her arms came up and around his neck, and he was suddenly lifting her onto his lap, loving the feel of her warmth when she angled around and her chest pressed into his. A whimper stole its way past her lips, and he swallowed it on a groan, deepening the kiss, pulling her tighter and holding her close so she’d know he’d never let go.
Although… Reluctantly, he eased back a little and made an effort to think. Which was no easy task, all things considered. “What of your sisters and the duty you have toward them?” Although he hated reminding her of it, of giving her a reason to leave, he could not in good conscience ignore it.
“I think they will understand. And if you’re willing to marry me…”
“Of course I plan to marry you, Eve! What sort of man do you take me for?”
She smiled in response to his teasing tone. “Well, if you’ll help my sister Josephine cover the cost of her townhouse—”
“Done,” he told her sincerely. “I’ll even buy her a new one in Mayfair if she so desires.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely.” Upon which he kissed her again, savoring the taste of her and all the delightful little noises she made.
A loud cough broke the spell, drawing Bryce’s attention toward the doorway where Mrs. Havisham had materialized. “You were taking too long,” she announced. Crossing her arms, she gave them a steely look. “I can now see why.”
“Er…”
Eve didn’t sound as though she knew what so say, so Bryce interceded. “Miss Potter and I will be getting married.”
“Really?” Mrs. Havisham smiled at Eve. “Well, it is what you wanted, so how can I be anything but thrilled?”
Carefully, Bryce eased Eve off his lap and helped her back into the chair. “And since you’ve caught us in a rather compromising position, I would like to propose a special marriage license and forego the reading of banns.” He turned to look at Eve, adding, “Unless, of course, you would rather plan a proper wedding so your sisters can attend.” He’d likely expire from pent-up desire by the time such a ceremony took place, but he’d suffer through it if it was what Eve wanted.
A blush darkened her skin to a pretty pink hue, and she shyly whispered, “I doubt I can wait so long. A special license sounds perfect.”
“Then it’s settled,” Bryce said. “I’ll take care of the arrangements straight away.”
“And in the meantime,” Mrs. Havisham told him, “Miss Potter will come with me. She and I were supposed to enjoy two weeks together, and now I’ll be lucky if I manage to get one day.”
It was a fair point, however reluctant Bryce was to let Eve out of his sight. But he would be busy too, not only visiting the Archbishop of Canterbury in London, but also procuring a ring. “I will call at Amberly Hall once everything has been taken care of,” he promised, mostly to Eve, who did not look the least bit eager to leave his company. And as he watched the Havisham carriage roll away a half hour later with her inside it, he knew
what it meant to feel like he was losing the most precious part of himself.
So he turned about swiftly and called for Radcliff to have a groom saddle his horse. The faster he completed his tasks, the sooner Eve would be his.
6
Woolgathering, Eve didn’t realize Margaret had been talking until she jabbed her in the shoulder. “Yes?” Eve blinked. She raised her gaze from the garment resting in her lap, her needle and thread poised in preparation for the next stitch.
Margaret’s lips stretched to form a wide smile, her eyes laughing with unabashed amusement. “Dare I ask you about your ponderings?”
Eve sank back against the sofa and sighed. “It has been three whole days.”
“And thank goodness for that.” Margaret poured a cup of tea and placed it in front of Eve. “If Ravenworth had arrived any sooner, your gown would not have been ready.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
The moment Eve had arrived at Amberly Hall, Margaret had insisted on finding an appropriate gown for her to wear on her wedding day. She’d riffled through her wardrobe while Eve had watched, amazed by the rich collection of fabrics, until her friend had produced a stunning creation of light blue silk. It had required a few alterations to the bodice and hem, which had kept Eve busy during the following days.
Still…
“He hasn’t even sent a note though, which makes me wonder if—”
“What? He might have reconsidered?” Margaret shook her head. “The man is clearly enamored with you.”
“Do you truly think so?”
“I know so, Eve. The archbishop is getting on in years. I’ve been told he likes to take his time with things. So it wouldn’t surprise me if he is dawdling over the marriage license.”
Unsatisfied with the answer, Eve puffed out a breath and completed the final stitches. “There. All done.” She rose and laid the gown across the back of a nearby chair so she could enjoy her tea. “I’m also eager to tell him what Mr. Havisham has discovered.”
“It’s possible Ravenworth already knows. Gossip travels faster than forest fires, Eve.”
A knock at the door brought Margaret’s butler into the room. “The Earl of Ravenworth is here to see you. May I show him in?”
Eve’s breath caught, suspended until her friend answered in the affirmative. It then whooshed from her lungs, matching the speed of her racing heart while she hurried back to her seat, claiming it seconds before the door opened again to admit the most dashing man in the world– the only man Eve cared about–Ravenworth – Bryce.
His gaze swept across the room, honing in on Eve with a predatory gleam. It pulled at her belly, and a surge of awareness swept through her. Dressed in a dark blue jacket with breeches to match, he cut an impressive figure--broad-shouldered and tall, his dark hair windblown and with his jaw bearing signs of day-old stubble. Bowing, he greeted Eve and Margaret in turn, his voice sounding gruff and perhaps a little fatigued as well.
“Eve has been awaiting your arrival with great anxiety,” Margaret said. She stood and went toward him.
Blushing, Eve began to look away, but Bryce caught her gaze and held it, the darkness therein conveying intense degrees of longing. “Procuring the license took time. Longer than I had anticipated.” He glanced at Margaret. “Will you grant Miss Potter and me a moment of privacy? Please.”
Margaret dipped her head in an elegant nod. “Of course.” She went to the door, paused to gaze across the distance at Eve, and gave her a secretive smile. “Take your time.” And then she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
Eve’s skin pricked with awareness. She was alone with Bryce for the first time in three days, and he was coming toward her now at a slow prowl. Her lungs tightened and so did her stomach. Calming her heart had long since become impossible. It was racing away, producing a tremble that spread from the tips of her fingers all the way down to her toes.
“You look…” His voice was softer than before, his throat working as if struggling with the ability to speak. “As lovely as I remember–lovelier even, if such a thing is possible.”
The heat of his gaze made her cheeks warm. She knew she was blushing. “Thank you, my lord.” His increasing nearness afforded her speech with a breathless tone. There was more to be said, however. “Mr. Havisham says Miss Edwina Jenkins’s husband has left her. He overhead a group of people talking about it in the village yesterday.”
Bryce stilled. “Really?”
“Word is she’s been unfaithful on countless occasions, that the child she carries belongs to another.” She held out her hand, encouraging Bryce to come closer. “The incident has cast doubt on what really happened between you two. So chances are your reputation will be restored.”
Reaching her, he lowered himself to the vacant spot on the sofa and quietly murmured her name. “Eve.” There was anguish and hope and passionate need all rolled up in one simple utterance.
“Yes.” One word to encompass so much. Yes, I want you; yes, I need you; yes, I will be yours forever; yes and yes and yes, a thousand times yes.
His hand found hers, cradling it gently against his own. A pause followed, and he cleared his throat before proceeding in a firmer voice than he’d used before. “I hope that will be the case. For your sake more than for mine.” When she started protesting, he hastened to say, “Everything happened so quickly before, I never managed to make a proper proposal. So please allow me to do so now, to offer you what you truly deserve.”
Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he produced a small box and flipped open the lid to reveal the prettiest ring Eve had ever seen: a simple gold band adorned with a gilded forget me not. He’d made it himself, and this alone made it the most precious gift she would ever receive.
“My life was an empty void before you arrived to give it meaning,” Bryce said. He picked the ring up and held it between his fingers. “I cannot think of living without you, of us not sharing every lasting moment together. My heart is yours, my love for you as infinite as the stars in the sky. Please accept this ring with the promise that I will make you the happiest woman in the world. Marry me, Eve.”
“Yes.” Her hand reached around his neck to draw him close for a kiss. “Yes.” His lips met hers while the ring slid into place on her finger. “I was yours the moment we met.” She kissed him again. “And I will be yours until death do us part.”
The ceremony took place the following day with the Havishams in attendance. It was swift, completed much faster than Eve had expected, but every bit as romantic as she could have hoped. Snow drifted over them like white winter blossoms when they exited the church as husband and wife. A joyous gathering followed at the nearest inn, before Bryce and Eve set their course for home.
Home.
Snuggling into Bryce’s embrace during their carriage-ride back to Ravenworth Manor, Eve couldn’t help but marvel at the idea. She’d already dispatched letters to Josephine and Louise and now wondered how they would respond to her hasty decision to marry. She hoped they were going to be happy for her and not too displeased with her reluctance to wait.
“What are you thinking about?” Bryce asked against the top of her head.
She turned in his arms and gazed up into his stunning dark eyes. “That I am so incredibly lucky and that I cannot wait to introduce you to my sisters.”
A touch of seriousness flattened his mouth. “Do you think they will like me?”
The fact he might be concerned they wouldn’t made Eve’s heart swell. “Without a doubt,” she assured him, kissing him for good measure. She continued to do so until the carriage swayed to a halt, alerting her to their arrival at Ravenworth Manor.
Bryce opened the carriage door and helped her alight. His hand firmly at her back, he guided her up the front steps and into the foyer. Silently, he helped her remove her pelisse and her bonnet before leading her toward the stairs. Eve’s stomach tightened around a knot. It seemed to squeeze her insides together. Her heart fluttered against her ribs, her breath
growing increasingly labored with every step she took.
Reaching the top of the landing, he stopped to face her and offered his hand. “Come.” One word, luring her with the promise of pleasure, impossible to resist when accompanied by the hungry look in his eyes. She placed her palm upon his, watching his fingers close around hers. With deliberate steps, he drew her toward a door at the end of the hallway, opened it, and ushered her into the bedroom beyond.
Draped in burgundy and gold, the four-poster bed which stood at the center like a lavish enabler of sexual craving, reminded Eve of what would transpire. A shock of anxiety shot up her spine, until she felt Bryce’s hands behind her, firm upon her shoulders. His mouth sought the curve of her neck and pressed a trail of kisses there, scattering her concerns so only her need for him remained.
“Mine.” His voice heated her skin, calling on her awareness while his fingers plucked the pins from her hair and allowed them to scatter across the floor.
Leaning into him, she sighed as her hair tumbled down her back, then again while his fingers worked on the fastenings of her gown. The sleeves slipped over her shoulders, down over her arms, until the gown vanished completely – forgotten somewhere at her feet. Her stays and chemise followed, and she was naked in his arms, save for the fine silk stockings tied with light blue satin ribbons around her thighs. A kiss was pressed to the nape of her neck and a hand slid over her waist, circling her with a lazy caress that threatened to be her undoing.
“Bryce.” She breathed his name.
“Finally,” he murmured.
Another kiss touched her shoulder, followed by the gentle scrape of his teeth raking over her skin. It produced a flurry of heightened sensations in other parts of her body. He stepped away, allowing cool air to cascade over her back as he moved to stand before her. With darkened eyes, he allowed his gaze to travel the length of her body, so slowly she was certain she’d expire from anticipation.
The Earl Who Loved Her (The Honorable Scoundrels Book 2) Page 7
