An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady

by Wilde, Tanya

  “There you go calling me ‘my lord’ again,” he said, shoving her through the door and onto the balcony, ignoring the foul words she hissed at him.

  “Let me go you stinking pig!” she hissed, yanking her hand free as she whirled and headed back toward the ballroom. With alarming speed he stepped between her and the door, shutting it with a resounding click.

  “Come now Evelyn, you can’t still be mad at me?” he whispered looming over her, his presence causing her heart to pound.

  “What do you mean to do? Keep me out here until I tell you what you want to know?”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” he said as he began to unbutton his coat.

  He smiled when she took a step back.

  “What are you doing?” she croaked, hoping he did not think to seduce her out here.

  At any moment someone could come through the door! His unrepentant grin took her off guard and she narrowed her eyes at his boyish look transformation. It would not sway her.

  “You are shivering, Evelyn. I’m merely being a gentleman.”

  He draped his coat over her shoulders.

  “Then let me go.”

  “When I finally have you all to myself? Never.”

  She tried to peer over his shoulder into the ballroom to see if Jo or Belle lurked nearby to rescue her, but his height blocked her view. She had the impression that her friends were occupied by non-other than her brother and St. Aldwyn. They’d underestimated the men’s determination. She cast a furtive glance around the balcony, thanking the stars no one else hung about.

  “I have to congratulate you, my lord. You planned this well, though I doubt it was all you.”

  “The three of you are up to something,” his grin faded abruptly. “You are playing a dangerous game, Evelyn.”

  Why of all the shameless, obnoxious— “I’m playing games? How dare you accuse me of playing games? Do you want to know why I was sneaking about, lying and avoiding you?” she practically shouted up at him, his confidence starting to fade at the hysterical note in her voice.

  “I know all about your secret meetings with your former lover. I have heard the tales of you gallivanting across town but the most reprehensible part of it all, acting like I’m already a piece of your property. Well, I’m not!”

  His face had lost all expression at her admission.

  He advanced on her, his jaw tightening dangerously. “It’s not what you think, Evelyn.”

  “It’s not?” she asked incredulously, aware she had played this particular hand to soon but could not bring herself to care. “Do you know what I think? You have double standards. Every time I mention Damien you turn all stiff and territorial and anytime I’m in his company you behave like a caveman, but then you entertain Charlotte the Harlot at your residence!”

  “It’s not what you think,” he bit out.

  Evelyn snorted. “Of course it’s not,” she remarked snidely, her temper erupting. “You have manipulated me around every nook and crook since the day you arrived. I’ve been nothing but a pawn in your game of vengeance, so do not dare accuse me of playing dangerous games.”

  Matthew caught her around the waist, tugging her into a close embrace.

  “Yes, I have seen her, but had you bothered to ask me I would have explained. But no, you avoid me and assume the worst.”

  He dragged her even closer against his chest, sarcasm heavily laced in his voice, “Is that what you are trying to do Evelyn, venturing into dangerous parts of town, making up stories about blackmailers and secret trysts to get my attention?”

  “No, you cursed—”

  He gave her no chance to finish the insult. He kissed her. It was so unexpected she was momentarily frozen before her wits came back and she shoved at his chest. A kiss wasn’t going to make everything right even if it did make her knees weak with desire. When he finally released her and stepped back she felt oddly hollow and cold. Yes, only this man could set fire to the blood in her veins one moment and freeze it the next.

  “I see you have gone all stiff on me, Evelyn.” His eyes smoldered as they passed over her body, coming back to rest on her face. “Have you nothing to say?”

  She ignored the insult. The truth being she was too furious to say anything, furious for his manipulations and furious for allowing him to provoke her. How could he turn everything back to her? She hadn’t been the one sneaking about with a former lover. And now he accused her of seeking attention and doing anything to get it. Tears threatened to cloud her vision.

  “This has been nothing but a game to you.”

  “No,” he whispered harshly.

  “Well, I am not playing anymore. I have developed distaste for the games you play.”

  Matthew stiffened. “I don’t play games.”

  Evelyn snorted. “Who is the one lying now?”

  “I have never lied to you.”

  “Of course you have. The only difference between my lies and yours is I admit I lie and there is never any doubt that the reason I lie is because I do not want you to know the truth.”

  Matthew’s face turned to stone at her revelation but she continued. “I wouldn’t put it passed you to be deliberately seen in her presence to provoke me. Well it worked, my lord. Only not in the way you wanted it to work. It only made me more determined to stay as far away from you as I possibly can.”

  They stared at each other for what felt like a lifetime. He hard and immovable, she furious and determined. Nothing showed of his emotions. He would not give an inch.

  Evelyn sighed disappointedly. “I would like to go back inside now.”

  “Evelyn—”

  Desperate to hide her bewildering reaction to his assault on all her senses she said in flat, but hard tone, “We are done. Let me pass.”

  “We will never be done.”

  “Then we are at an impasse, I will never consent to be your wife and any further attempt to persuade me would be a waste of your time.”

  Matthew fought down the sudden panic that threatened to rise at her words. Her tone held finality. A string of curses filled his mind. This had not been his goal. Afraid the damage done might be permanent, and she might be slipping through his fingers, he took a step back to give her space. She was right to believe he had manipulated the situation with Charlotte, deliberately not mentioning it, knowing she would hear the rumors. He would not regret it, either. Her reaction proved to him beyond a doubt that she felt something for him. He stared at her rigid form, snaked a hand through his already unruly hair before he stepped aside, giving her enough space to pass.

  “This isn’t over Evelyn,” he murmured as she passed through the door, not even pausing at his admission. It will never be over.

  “I will never give up,” he whispered into the cool night air.

  Evelyn might not believe it but using Charlotte as manipulation hadn’t been the only reason he’d used her. This confrontation with Evelyn was paramount for them to move to the next stage of their relationship. They could move forward and he could finally put the past behind him.

  Chapter 16

  Matthew couldn't sleep. Dreams of Evelyn plagued him. No, to say he was plagued by fears of Evelyn would be more accurate. She haunted him. She tortured him. He’d grown used to it, preferred it even. The alternative was unacceptable. He refused to be taunted any further by that fateful night six years ago when he’d found Charlotte in bed with his best friend.

  Evelyn had replaced those nightmares. Thank God. Granted, with time the dreams eventually became fewer, but they never quite disappeared. He would still be plagued by nightmares some nights, especially when a storm raged outside, like the one warring on the inside. But even on those nights no nightmares came, the struggle for sleep to claim him remained. The first night he’d fallen asleep without any difficulty had been the night he met Evelyn Tremaine.

  But Evelyn did not want him for a husband, even though he was quite certain she loved him. Or at least would if she gave him a chance. She was however attracte
d to him, of that he had no doubt. His male senses went on alert in her presence. The way her breath quickened when he touched her. Her dreamy expression whenever she studied him from beneath her long lashes, when she though he didn’t notice. So why did she not want him for a husband? Might it be because of Charlotte? Surely he could not be held accountable for that woman’s stalking habits?

  Matthew also found when he felt self-assured in his abilities to win Evelyn, he surrendered almost instantly to the darkness and sleep claimed him, but like tonight, at times of uncertainty, sleep was an elusive mistress. He glanced at the empty space beside him. He might try chains. That ought to keep her by his side.

  Damn woman.

  She’d brought peace to the turmoil raging inside him. She anchored him and gave him hope for something lost long ago. She was his revolving universe. Without her, his world could not exist. Did she not see that? Did she not feel the connection they shared? The current that tickled their senses whenever they neared each other, touched each other.

  He'd seen a lot of dark things in his life, more than he cared to admit. But while past pain had always just been exactly that, pain, Evelyn soothed his hurts. Light now reflected where, for the past six years, only darkness had been his constant companion.

  He recalled the first time they’d met, she stood in front of his bed and candlelight fell across her hair, giving her the most spectacular glow. He’d known instantly she would be his angel, guiding him back to a life worth living. It was, in fact, the exact moment he fell in love with her. Matthew remembered a curious shifting the region of his heart and then the room fading away until the only thing he saw was her aluminous glow.

  “Heart sick fool,” he grumbled into the darkness.

  But when Evelyn smiled at him, in those rare unguarded moments when nothing held her back, her eyes sparkled. A glow of happiness surrounded her, lighting her face up like a million tiny little stars. And so she became his stars. His light. His beacon. Day or night; he walked constantly in her light.

  He loved her.

  They were meant to walk this earth together. Hell, even her trouble making nature and ridiculously wild imagination appealed to him.

  And Matthew would not stop, he would always try to win her over and over and over until he conquered and peeled away every layer surrounding her. Then she would be with him, in his life, in his bed. He grinned at the image her in his bed brought to mind. No, there would not be much sleep.

  He loved her.

  But first he had to uncover the reason for her reluctance to wed him.

  Charlotte and her incessant stalking proved a problem for him. Word of his return and interest in a young beautiful daughter of an Earl had reached her ears and now she hounded him relentlessly. He had been clear however, after she’d accosted him in his home and cornered him at the opera—she could go to the devil. He hadn’t even attended the blasted opera, only passed it and was then waylaid by an old acquaintance. Though nothing existed between Charlotte and him, he had a gut awful suspicion that the Harlot deliberately stirred a pot of trouble for him.

  All that aside, Matthew understood Evelyn abhorred men who dictated the lives of women. She also knew of his domineering and absolute ways. She assumed, quite correctly, he would take over her life in a heartbeat and his Evelyn was never going to marry such a man.

  Would he compromise? He would certainly try to. But he still needed to convince her that while life with him would never be easy, it would be worth it. He exhaled on a sigh. Though, it was hard to compromise when every word uttered from that pert little mouth appeared to be lies.

  He got up and walked to the window, wishing he could feel her warmth against his body. Outside it was cold, like the icy chill of snow that sank deep into your bones. He hated the fear that took hold of him. It weighed him down like a big ship sinking into the ocean. He had thought himself to be invincible, but in this moment of icy fear he realized, for the first time since his pursuit started, he might not win. He may lose her.

  Matthew let out a heart wrenching breath and wandered back to his bed, sitting on the edge, looking at the empty space next to the side he occupied and sighed again. He missed Evelyn. Every night without her became worse. If she walked away from him… it would be unbearable.

  He laid back and directed his mind to what she was hiding. He recalled her sudden transformation and the secret admirer who’d mysteriously vanished. Her friends, Lady Belle and Lady Josephine. Their excursion into White Chapel and Evelyn’s lies about blackmail. Her knowledge of Charlotte’s return, followed by the lonely week of avoidance. Matthew still seethed at the thought of that blasted week.

  Every damn thing circled back to those three women. And he had not forgotten how her friends had taken her away from him in Bath. And then there was their other friend, Viscount Weather-something, the prissy dandy, more concerned with the cut of his waistcoat than anything else. Or was he?

  He sat up again.

  Had they been so focused on keeping an eye on the women they forgot about the fourth musketeer? The musketeer always overlooked. The musketeer always lurking in the background. The musketeer never far behind.

  He paused, testing his theory out in his mind. Viscount Weathercock. Well, hell.

  Those devious creatures were smart. Viscount Weatherpie would most assuredly be an integral part of their plans. And they’d missed it entirely. He glanced over at the window, surprised to see the faint light of dawn starting to brighten the room. It was time for some investigation.

  “They’ve been hounding us for days and then suddenly they stop.”

  It was enough to make Evelyn cease stirring her tea. “Who?” she asked, since the truth was, she hadn't been listening.

  “Your brother and his two lap dogs.”

  Evelyn thought back to the past two days. It was true they’d backed down, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching. Matthew’s eyes were always there, piercing her back, yet he kept his distance.

  She glanced at Belle and then at Jo, who were both nodding their heads in agreement. “I suppose you are right,” Evelyn said, although she knew quite well that they were.

  “Something is wrong,” Jo muttered, staring at her tea.

  Evelyn took a sip of hers. “Perhaps they have given up,” she suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. In truth she did not care what they were up to, couldn’t think of it even. Tonight was the big night, and the stage was set for her big performance. Well, at least set in her mind. Her nerves however, hung by a thread. And not the palm sweating nervousness, she might add, but the heart wrenching she wanted to die, nervousness.

  “So,” Evelyn said, picking up a slice of lemon cake, “I take it Simon and Damien have been persistent in their lurking?”

  “Arrogant lurker,” Belle responded.

  “Exasperating lurker,” Jo added. “And absolutely driving us insane.”

  Evelyn burst out laughing, pleased that she did not sail this ship alone.

  “Your brother won’t stop following me about,” Belle admitted in disgust. “He’s scaring away all my beaus with his lurking in the shadows.”

  Jo nodded. “St. Aldwyn is utterly insufferable,” she complained. “He even follows me to the powder room, as if I wouldn’t notice him lurking behind pillars and plants.”

  “At least Wes is not being followed,” Evelyn put in with a small smile.

  “Proving them to be a bunch of idiots,” Belle said, causing them all to laugh.

  “Not to mention,” Jo turned to Evelyn, “that their lurking about is starting to cause murmurs of interest amongst the members of the ton. Even my brother has remarked upon it, demanding me to stay away from ‘that defiled bastard’. His exact words.”

  “I cannot believe their nerve,” Evelyn scoffed. This was getting out of hand. “But surely your brother doesn’t think you are interested in Damien?” Evelyn paused, “Or are you?”

  “Do not be absurd.”

  “Well then you have nothing to worry
about,” Evelyn replied, and then with a sly smile said, “He’s not that bad, you know.” Which, it belatedly occurred to her, was perhaps why her friend had been acting so strange since their return from Bath.

  “Would you stop!”

  “He would make the perfect project you know,” Belle suddenly said. “St. Aldwyn, the reformed rake.”

  “What?” Jo gaped.

  “We can always put it to the test,” Evelyn added with a brilliant smile.

  Jo waved them off. “I have no interest in that man.” Pausing, she glanced at her friends. “What do you mean put it to the test?”

  “Well, to see how he would react when you flirt with another rake?” Evelyn provided.

  When they only stared at her she continued, “I read it in one of my books and it seems like it might work. If he was interested, that is.”

  “Testing St. Aldwyn will never be a good idea,” Jo admonished. “In fact, it has trouble written all over it. Besides, I’m not interested in him or marriage in general.”

  “It was worth a try,” Belle put in somewhat disappointed.

  Evelyn tilted her head. “What about Simon?” she asked Belle, who was suddenly very interested in her empty cup of tea.

  “What about him?”

  “You’ve been in his company for a week now; surely you know what I mean. And you do seem to provoke him,” she waved her hand in front of her nose, “I have never seen him so out of sorts before.”

  “Good,” Belle said satisfied. “It serves him right for hounding me.”

  “I daresay you are driving him to drink.”

  “Really?” Jo murmured with a sparkle in her eyes.

  Belle shot her a warning look

  Evelyn nodded. “He is even more frequently foxed than usual.”

  “Oh.”

  “It only stands to reason that you have rattled his feathers.”

  “Ruffled,” Jo put in. “It’s ruffled his feathers.”

  Evelyn gave Jo a deliberate glance. The word had been purposefully used. “I’m enjoying his bad moods, it makes me feel good.”