***
Evan glanced at the door to the study for the hundredth time and mulled his whisky. Necktie askew, his jacket discarded, he lounged back on the chair, his feet propped on the desk. Every time he heard footsteps, he tensed, waiting for Lilly to carefully open the door and slip in to comfort him. Except she never did and he knew full well why.
He had terrified her. His temper had got the better of him and he had been no better than his father, throwing things around and shouting at her. If she had stayed, would he have struck out at her? He threw back the remainder of his whisky and poured himself another from the crystal decanter on his desk.
How he ached for her to come to him and press her delicate lips to his. To wrap her soft body around him and tell him everything would be all right. But it wouldn’t.
Eleanor had paid a heavy price for his inability to protect her. He closed his eyes and fought the images haunting him. Somehow her husband had found out about her plan to flee. Thanks to him, Eleanor was beaten to death. If he hadn’t interfered, would Eleanor have lived? He had to believe the beatings would have continued, but at least she would have remained alive.
Bile rose in his throat as he pictured the defenseless woman suffering at the hands of that brute. No woman should have to suffer such an end. And the man he had hired to keep an eye on her had been unable to do anything about it. The staff were too eager to protect their employer that they turned a blind eye to it, and the thug he had hired could do nothing to gain entrance to the house. No doubt, it would be passed off as an accident or hushed up with some bribes.
Something had to be done. But what? He stood, drained his drink and placed the glass down with a thud. Shoving open the door and caring little for the noise it made in the dark house, he stormed to the back of the house. The staff had left a few of the lamps lit, knowing he remained awake, but he was forced to snatch a candle from the kitchen to enter the storeroom as there were no lamps in the small room that housed his guns. He stepped around a bicycle someone had abandoned there and stubbed his toe on the washing tub. Evan made a mental note to have someone clear out the storage area.
He pulled open the mahogany cabinet and ignored the rifles stacked inside it. The pistols were kept in the top. He rarely carried a weapon. The damned things were so unreliable, he preferred to protect himself with his fists and boxed every chance he got when he was in London. But fists would not do against Ashby, Eleanor’s husband.
Lifting the locked box, he took it into the kitchen and laid it on the large wooden table in the middle of the room. He flicked it open and was greeted by the scent of oil and gunpowder. Evan lifted one of the pistols out and eyed the brass. Both guns would need a decent clean before use or they would likely go off in his hand. He pointed one. Flashes of memories seared his mind. His father striking his mother, Eleanor’s terrified expression, her husband lashing out at her. The latter was no memory but he could imagine it well enough. He had seen his father in a rage enough times to know what Eleanor must have experienced.
And now Lilly had witnessed the same.
“Evan?”
He jerked around, gun in hand, and Lilly squeaked. Evan swiftly lowered the gun. The temptation to bark out a scolding burned on his tongue, but the words dissolved at the sight of her wide eyes and her delicate face. She looked like an angel with the light from one lamp illuminating her curls and the braid around one shoulder. Her voluminous shift added to the effect.
Lowering the weapon, he scrubbed a hand across his face. “What are you doing here?”
She edged closer, a wary eye to the gun. “I was looking for you. It’s late. You should go to bed, Evan.”
Her soft voice and the touch of her even softer fingers on his forearm worked inside him and eased away the tension. He placed down the gun and took her hand. What would he do with her? Send her away? Go to London and abandon her for good? He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed each one before flattening a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse leapt against his lips and he let his mouth linger there while he observed the color sweeping over her cheeks and the slight flutter of lashes. How could he send such a creature away? Maybe he could control his temper long enough to see out their year together.
Lord help him, but he was a weak man. He should never have even taken her as his mistress. He knew well he had a temper and it was only a matter of time. All this had proved was that he wasn’t even fit to take a wife.
Lilly twined her fingers between his and led him back through the house and upstairs. And he would be damned if he did not follow like a little lost puppy. They paused outside his room, facing each other, and he dropped his forehead to hers. “Will you not share my bed tonight?”
“I don’t know, Evan,” she responded quietly.
His gut fisted with regret. He had scared her so much that she no longer wanted to share his bed with him. Now he had lost out on her sweet company in bed. It had only been a short while since she’d fallen from the horse, but he had grown used to waking up to her freezing toes tangling in between his legs or an elbow in the back. Strangely, none of it irritated him. Instead, he’d found himself waking early just to watch her sleep.
“Do you want me in your bed or are you asking because you feel you must?” she asked.
“I want you in my bed,” he said in a rush. The admission cost him. His throat felt dry and tight as if he had swallowed sand.
“Very well, then I shall return to your bed.”
Evan did not disguise his long exhale of relief. What was the point? She had the measure of him today anyway. When it came to Lilly Claremont, the Marquess of Hawksley was helpless.
He lifted his forehead from hers, opened the door and led her in. But when they reached the bed, she took charge once more, pressing him down and straddling him to aid him with his shirt. He made no protests. Heat flared through him and his lower body inevitably tightened. With her knees to either side of him on the bed, he found himself cradled between her beautiful, supple legs. With both hands, he clasped her knees and pushed the linen shift up, allowing him access to her smooth thighs.
Shirt now undone, Lilly parted it and stroked her palms up and down his bare chest. Fire followed everywhere her fingers touched. He feared it would never abate—this sensation she created inside him. Perhaps it might even increase.
A hand slipped between them and worked on his trousers. He helped her pull them off, lifting his rear from the bed. Lilly slid down between his legs to tug his shoes and socks off and then his trousers down. Finally, she aided him with his drawers.
She sat for a moment, kneeling between his legs, and he thrust his fingers into her hair, loosened the curls. Lilly stared up at him and he saw the fight inside her—the one driven by her burning curiosity and frustrating need to know everything. But she didn’t say a word.
Evan’s eyebrows lifted when, instead, she lowered her head between his legs and took him in her mouth. His hips jerked of their own accord at the heavenly feel of all that moist warmth. He had to guide her with his hands but her inexperienced tongue proved to be wonderfully exciting.
He longed to pull out and make proper love to her, but the weakness inside him prevented him from doing so. It didn’t take him long before he spilled. Drawing her head away, his blinding orgasm seared through his skull while she continued to milk him lovingly with her hand.
Unable to think of any way to apologize for either oversights in behavior—his earlier temper and his selfishness now—he drew her to her feet, kissed her firmly and made her climb into bed while he cleaned up.
Naked, he crawled into bed next to her. She wrapped her body around his back and Evan gritted his teeth. What had happened to the fiery vixen he knew? Why had she not scolded him and demanded an apology from him? He had to admit, he enjoyed this side of Lilly. It was the one he had seen briefly when she had taken care of his brother and the one he had occasional flashes of before Henry joined them. When she drew he saw her face soften and her voice became sile
nced.
He enjoyed both sides, he realized. Maybe more than enjoyed. Inwardly, he groaned. Outwardly, he relished her comforting little body and felt his completion taking its effect as his eyes grew heavy. Lilly murmured something, but he couldn’t be sure what. Something reassuring, he suspected. What a fool he was to be needing reassurance from a woman when it should be him looking after her. Nonetheless, he found his inner turmoil calmed by her and managed to fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter Twenty
The old Evan was back. Lilly didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed. After his frightening fit of temper yesterday, she had found the vulnerable Evan endearing. He had brokered no arguments with her and had let her take the lead—something she enjoyed very much. There were few men who submitted to a woman so easily.
Now, however, he was back to his usual argumentative, disagreeable self. And Lilly could not help but grin as he snorted his derision over a news article.
“What displeases you this morning, Evan?” she asked as she finished her tea and wiped her fingers on a napkin.
He lowered the paper, eyed her coolly. “They have opened a new college for women in Cambridge.”
“And this offends you?”
“This one does.”
Lilly gripped the napkin and scowled. “Why should the education of women aggravate you so? Perhaps you wish them to all remain in ignorance so they will forever be at the mercy of men?”
“Indeed, you mistake me, Lilly—”
“You believe men have the sole right to be lord and master of the world and that women are mere chattels?”
He leaned forward and laid down the paper. “If you could give me a moment to explain my position, perhaps you would not judge me so harshly. Women suffragettes would do well to occasionally listen to what men folk have to say,” he remarked. “We are not all the ignorant beasts you paint us to be.”
“I never suggested you are ignorant,” she protested. “But you have been brought up in a world dominated by men. How can you possibly understand a woman’s plight?”
“It is true I can never fully understand what women must deal with, but I am an educated man, am I not? I credit myself with not being wholly ignorant.”
“Yet you protest equal education for women?”
Evan let slip a twisted smile. “Ah, there you fall upon the key point. Equal education. This new college makes allowances for women. They can study part time and the college have tailored their curriculum to women.”
Realization dawned upon her. He protested the manner of education, not the actual practice of educating women. “But you expressed disgust at these colleges not so long ago when we first met,” she reminded him.
“Because I find it a gross waste of time to send women to college when they still cannot gain an equal qualification to men. There are some institutes, I shall admit, that have attempted to run as a men’s college would, but most fall short. I fear should we accept these places of education for women, we shall become idle and no more progress will be made. We shall have done our part and that will be that.”
Lilly snapped shut her open jaw. She never would have believed a man of such old family and strict values would support progress for women. How wrong she had been. It seemed he not only supported a move forward for women but expressed insightful ideas. She did not agree—yes, these colleges were lacking but they were welcome progress—however to hear him speak so warmed her heart.
“I had no idea you felt this way.”
“Perhaps then, you should consider not jumping to conclusions, my dear Lilly. You do have a terrible habit of doing so and you are quite the fearsome creature once you get going.”
She couldn’t help but laugh and he joined in, the sound sending tingles through her. “You make me sound like some hideous beast.”
“Far from it.” He pressed his hands to the paper and leant in to lock his gaze onto hers. “I find you quite riveting when you are fired up about something. Passion lights your eyes, your cheeks become flushed. I shall confess, seeing you angry is quite enjoyable.”
Lilly bit back some exclamation about his temper, fearful of destroying the moment. Instead, she feigned annoyance. “I am not sure I like that you find my temper enjoyable. Am I to believe you rile me on purpose, just so you can find some pleasure in my aggravation?”
“No. Indeed, I rarely need to rile you on purpose. You’re quite capable of doing that yourself.”
With a huff, she dropped her napkin but couldn’t resist a smile. “My lord, you make me sound quite disagreeable.”
“You are, my dear Miss Claremont,” he confirmed. “You really are.” Evan lifted his paper and eyed her over the top of it. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
Rolling her eyes at his teasing, Lilly excused herself from breakfast and retreated to the drawing room to allow him some peace and quiet with the morning paper. She had already asked Mrs. Hargreaves to have her sketch pad and pencils waiting for her and she was determined to get back into a comfortable routine. Hopefully they might be able to forget Evan’s outburst or perhaps he might confide in her eventually. It frustrated her to no end, not knowing what had aggravated him so but with the mood he was in yesterday, there had been little point in pressing the matter. In truth, she feared he was greatly upset and didn’t wish to distress him further. It seemed she cared a great deal for the man’s welfare. Too much perhaps.
She sat by the window and lifted her pad but something caught her eye in the fireplace. Lilly lowered the pad to the table and stood. Glancing around, she edged over to the empty black grate and sure enough, the letter Evan had received remained. With no need for a fire during the warmer weather, the fireplace had not been cleaned.
Stealing another glance around, she snuck back to her chair and peeled open the crumpled paper with trembling hands. Lilly noted the name at the bottom—a Mr. Higgins. She had never met him but Anne had said the missive had come from him and Lilly knew him to be Evan’s butler in the London house. The lines in the paper made some of the words illegible and Mr. Higgins’s hand was not easily read, but it spoke of a woman—a Lady Eleanor Ashby.
She stiffened and read on, a hand coming to her mouth when she grasped the content of the letter. This Lady Ashby was dead by the hand of her husband. How had this been allowed to happen? The poor woman. Her chin wobbled as she considered the fear the woman must have experienced. She might never have met her but Lilly could thoroughly sympathize for the sake of her own sex. Too many women were beaten by their husbands, but never normally to death.
No wonder Evan had been furious, but who was this woman to him? She didn’t know the name but then Lilly knew few of London society. That said, she was no relation to Evan as far as she knew. Was she a friend or something more? Maybe a lover?
She squashed the rising jealousy, guilty for feeling such an emotion when the woman had met such an awful end. Was this husband the reason he had been eyeing up his guns? All that had occurred certainly explained his vulnerability last night. She had never seen him so meek and malleable but grief must have eaten deep into him.
Glancing at the door between them, she chewed her lip. Evan seemed fine this morning. Back to his usual grumpy—albeit slightly teasing—self. Surely he would not do anything rash? Lilly vowed to keep a close eye on him from now on to ensure he took no foolish action.
The doorknob turned and she quickly slid the letter into her sketch pad. Evan entered, paused to view her. She offered a gentle smile and swallowed. His dark blue waistcoat and camel-colored trousers made him so dashing, her chest constricted. She had not been able to fully appreciate it at the table but now he stood in front of her, it took all her willpower not to throw herself at him and beg him to take her.
“You are drawing today?”
“The weather is nice so I thought I would try to capture the view whilst I could.”
“If it stays pleasant, shall we take a stroll?”
Lilly could think of many more th
ings she would rather do, but time away from the house might do him good. He always seemed to open up more when out of the confines of his role as lord and master. Maybe she could even find out about this Eleanor.
“That’s a fine idea, Evan. Perhaps Mrs. Hargreaves can arrange a picnic?”
His lips tilted. “A picnic? I can’t remember the last time I had one.” He strolled over beside her and peered out of the window. One hand rested proprietarily on her shoulder and she bit back a sigh of contentment. Were it not for yesterday, she could feel quite happy with her situation.
Lilly chuckled. “You are a poor, deprived man, are you not, my lord?”
He glanced down at her. “I didn’t think so until I met you, Miss Claremont.” The softening in his gaze only lasted a moment—so short she almost missed it. Her heart flipped and settled when he removed his hand and strolled over to the mantelpiece. “I am off to London in two days,” he continued.
“So soon?” A heavy weight of dread settled in her stomach. Was this to do with the lady?
“I should like to make the most of our time together before I leave.” He gave her a wan smile. “I have set aside my work for the day and I am at your disposal.”
Clutching her sketchpad to her chest, she studied him and the heaviness in her belly increased. Why did he speak as though he might never see her again? He was going to do something foolish was he not? She had to talk him out of it without increasing the distance between them. And if she admitted to knowing about this Lady Ashby, he might close up or lose his temper again and she would be no better off.
“Is it business that takes you away? I thought you weren’t intending to return to London for a while yet.”
“It is always business with you, is it not? When will you understand that I don’t wish to share such details with you?”
Lilly felt her hackles rise and opened her mouth, intending to rebuke such claims, but he stepped over and took the pad from her hands to aid her to her feet. She found herself dwarfed by his height, the breadth of his shoulders, leaving her a little breathless. He tugged her into him, a hand to the small of her back and one clutching her other hand. Evan placed it to his shoulder as if leading her in a waltz but they did not move. Instead he lowered his lips to her ear. She quivered, feeling his hot breath caress her cheek.
Love Regency Style Page 17
