An Unlikely Alliance

by Rachel Van Dyken

  He seemed as eager as she to stay under their cover of darkness. He leaned toward her. A kiss was eminent, but instead she felt his hand caress her chin and then very softly brush a curl away from her face. "This way," he mouthed, releasing her from his embrace.

  Suddenly, it felt frightfully cold in that house.

  Evelyn followed as closely as possible as he weaved his way in and out of the kitchen area. Finally, he stopped in a small room just outside the living room and quietly shut the door behind them.

  "Where are we?"

  "Serving quarters," he whispered, pushing her hood back from her face. "A lot of houses have them; it makes it easier for the kitchen staff to serve if they have a waiting area to put all the food. And it has this handy little contraption." He reached up towards the wall nearest the dining room and opened a small shutter. "It's what they serve food through normally, but tonight it shall be our way of spying."

  Evelyn rolled her eyes and joined him. She looked out toward the dining room and gasped when she saw her daddy and Royce's mother stride in, wine already in hand!

  "I'm telling you, Nora, this wine ain't nothing like my moonshine I used to brew down on the farm."

  "What in heaven is moonshine, Stuart?"

  They took seats inappropriately close to one another. The servants filed out and began laying out food. Evelyn immediately tensed. What a foolish plan! Of course they would be found out! If the servants used this particular room to serve food, they were doomed!

  Obviously sensing her tension, Royce whispered, "She's instructed all staff to take the night off, so she and her guest can dine alone."

  "Alone? As in…"

  "Alone," Royce repeated.

  Evelyn snapped her head back to the dining room. Her daddy was not only drinking wine with this woman, but now he was kissing her hand! As if they had been keeping company for days, weeks even!

  "I'm so glad we've been spending so much time together," Daddy said, bringing Mrs. McArthur's hand to his lips. "I just wish we didn't have to sneak around the children."

  "What they don't know won't hurt them." She giggled.

  "Hmm… like mother, like son," Evelyn whispered at Royce then punched him in the arm. "This is entirely your fault!"

  "Can you try to be quieter? And how in the world is this my fault?"

  "Because it is!"

  "Sound reasoning. And tell me, Detective, what other pieces of evidence will you falsify?"

  Evelyn stuck out her tongue and groaned. Her daddy was reaching for a small jar of something that looked oddly familiar.

  "Oh, my very own!" Mrs. McArthur clapped her hands excitedly. "I've never had Southern moonshine before!"

  Royce tapped Evelyn on the arm, his lips in a firm line. "Is your daddy trying to get my mother drunk? Because if he is, I'm putting a stop to it right now! No wonder you can drink whiskey better than any man. You've been brought up by savages! Admit it, you've had moonshine!"

  Evelyn didn't have time to answer, since both their parents were now happily drinking little shots of moonshine and laughing, completely ignoring the food set in front of them.

  Not that Evelyn wanted to get caught, but she couldn't stop the little cry of outrage which flew out of her lips. Royce shot her an 'I'm going to kill you' look, and then promptly tackled her to the floor as her daddy ambled over to examine the tiny window.

  He inquired what it was, and then sauntered off, taking the moonshine and Mrs. McArthur with him.

  "I'm going to kill him," Royce said casually, as if he were talking about buying a new pair of shoes.

  "My daddy? Please! What about your mama? She was just begging for Daddy to take advantage! 'Oh, Stuart, I've never had such marvelous moonshine!' Did you see the way she was touching his arm?"

  Royce's eyes looked like they were going to snap right out of his head. "Excuse me? Are you calling my mother a streetwalker?"

  "Well, you're calling my daddy a lothario! It's the same thing!"

  "How do you figure?" Royce's voice had risen well above a whisper.

  "We're going to get caught!" Evelyn snapped, pulling him closer to her. "At least they're out having fun, not trapped in some dark room spying!"

  "Fun? How can you think of fun when our parents are busy seducing one another? Oh, Lord, the things that just crossed my mind! The staff has all been given the night off. They think they're alone. And now they've gone off God knows where!"

  Evelyn laughed. "Calm down! We're alone, too." The reality suddenly dawned on her. She was all alone with Royce in a dark closet. No kitchen staff to watch over them. My, but it was hot in that little room. Suddenly too aware of the virile man sitting next to her, she scooted farther away.

  "Don't tell me the infamous Royce McArthur has never been stuck in a small, confined space with a woman before," she said, silently hoping he would admit this was a first for him as well.

  "I… well, I…" He licked his lips as if concentrating. "I have no desire to be with anyone but you right now. I can see by the look on your face I've scared you as much as I've scared myself. Right, then. I'll just go jump out my window now. Good night!"

  "Royce, sit down! First, if you jump, I'll jump. Second, I hate heights; and third, you're just scared because you're so upset about your mother. You don't truly mean the things coming out of your mouth."

  "Normally, I would agree with you."

  "A shock you would agree with anyone … about anything … ever," Evelyn murmured, donning her hood again. "I doubt you can even properly seduce a woman without putting your foot in your mouth."

  "I sure hope that's a challenge."

  "It is, but you can't try it on me." He stepped closer. "Because…" She looked behind her, hoping to find an escape route. "I'm not looking for a fling."

  "Neither. Am. I."

  Chapter Nine

  And the truth was, he wasn't. Looking for a fling, that is. He was positively enamored by this sweet and beautiful woman. So enamored, in fact, he couldn't care less about their original intent on spying. All he wanted was Evelyn, everywhere. How unfortunate they weren't somewhere convenient like a bedroom, or a sitting room, or anywhere with a floor that wasn't made of cold, hard marble.

  His rakish habits clearly were in need of redemption, but all he could think about was the easiest way to get her into his arms. The good news of the whole night, and possibly the solution to his problem, was his plan had worked.

  She was concerned about her daddy, and he was equally concerned about his mother, but he knew her to be a tough woman who could take care of herself. It also provided him a good excuse to be with Evelyn. All he needed to know was where their parents would rendezvous next. He would take Evelyn there, and it would be another excuse to spend time with her.

  Smiling, he reached around the small bar in the room and drew out a bottle of wine.

  "What's that for?"

  "Us," he answered, retrieving two crystal flutes. "To celebrate a night of exceptional spying."

  Taking the glass he offered, she began to sip ever so daintily, then downed the whole thing. "That was good!"

  "Ah, yes. This is another one of our many businesses. We make the best wine you'll ever taste. Would you like some more?"

  She nodded eagerly, and he poured another glass and then sat on the floor, patting the marble for her to join him. Hopefully her beautiful bottom wouldn't get too cold from sitting on it.

  "So tell me," he crooned, taking a deep sip and closing his eyes, "what do you miss?"

  Evelyn met his gaze. "What do you mean?"

  "Ah, you can try to hide behind that beautiful smile, and you can pretend you love it here, but I know how New York really is. It's not the adventurous South. So tell me, what do you miss?"

  She let out a long sigh and put her glass on the floor next to her. "I miss the weather. Sometimes it would get so humid I could scarcely breathe, but I loved it. That and the fireflies."

  "Fireflies?"

  She bit her lip thoughtfully. "Yes.
Tiny little bugs that light up at night. They're beautiful. I used to catch them in jars."

  "Fireflies," he repeated. "Do we have them here?"

  "I'm not sure. I've never looked."

  "Should we go hunting for some?"

  Evelyn threw him a silly smile and shrugged. "I doubt we would find any."

  "But…" he pushed himself off the floor and held out his hand. "It's an adventure, is it not?"

  Her gaze met his quizzically as she put her hand in his. "Yes, I guess it is."

  "Excellent."

  ****

  Two hours later they still hadn't located any fireflies, but Royce couldn't remember ever having such a wonderful time with a woman. Odd, because none of the time spent with Evelyn that night had included anything physical, unless he counted the numerous times he had tripped over rocks in his own backyard.

  "I found something!" Evelyn yelled.

  He ran over to her and laughed. A bunny rabbit was hopping around the tree by the garden. "I don't think we're fast enough to catch him," he said.

  "You're probably not, but I am," she challenged and pushed him as she ran after the tiny animal.

  Naturally, Royce felt the need to prove his manhood and run after her. Unfortunately he didn't see the giant rock near his foot and tripped, tumbling to the ground and pulling Evelyn down on top of him in the process.

  He moaned in pain. "I think it got away!"

  Evelyn, still on top of him, laughed. "Yes. If it weren't for your tripping, I'm convinced he would be my pet now!"

  "I'll buy you a bunny, if I don't have to catch it myself!" Royce pushed the cloak from her head and tugged on a piece of stray hair. It felt like silk between his fingers. His breathing suddenly grew ragged, and he looked into her eyes.

  "I'm going to kiss you now." He didn't recognize his own voice. He pulled her head closer and bestowed a quick, beautiful kiss on her pouty lips.

  They were still only inches away from one another, when she whispered, "What do you miss the most?"

  "About?" His arms encircled her small waist as he prayed she would stay on top of him forever. The conversation felt sweeter, more intimate that way.

  "About your father."

  The question took him by surprise. He didn't know how to answer. In all these years, nobody had ever asked him how he was dealing with his father's death. Everyone just assumed he was doing poorly and hadn't wanted to bother him with emotional questions. Not Evelyn.

  "Everything," he choked out.

  "It gets better."

  And she would know. Earlier he had heard she'd lost her mother at a young age.

  "It's better now," he managed to whisper as he went in for another kiss. "I'll take you home now."

  She nodded and moved off him. Never had his body felt so cold and alone as when Evelyn De Jarlias withdrew from him.

  This girl was different, and he wanted more than a seduction, more than to marry for his mother's wishes. He wanted a wife, for himself.

  ****

  Evelyn walked home in a blurry haze of excitement. One minute she was chasing a rabbit; in the next she was on top of Royce alternating talking about his father and kissing.

  When had she become so wanton? His kisses were addictive, much like warm chocolate or cream puffs. Once you had a taste, you never wanted to stop.

  "Oh, perfect, Evelyn," she muttered to herself; comparing him to food was so like her. She shook her head. Momentarily forgetting Royce was walking right beside her, grinning from ear to ear.

  "And how's the conversation with yourself going, sweetheart?"

  "Fine." Evelyn smiled her sweetest and bit her nails. Then she did a mock curtsy and turned away, staring only at the sidewalk in front of her as he guided her along the street back to her home.

  "Touchy."

  She glared at him but decided not to satisfy his teasing with a response. Once they reached the door to her house, she braced herself against another one of his sensual barrages. In pure suspense of it all, she nearly missed a step and had to grab on to him for support. Unfortunately, the first thing her hand touched was the rock-hard muscle of his arms, making her knees grow weaker than before.

  "S-s-sorry," she mumbled. She straightened her cloak and silently stepped inside.

  Exhaling, she turned to close the door and came face to face with Royce. Apparently, he wasn't leaving just yet.

  "One more thing." Lingering dangerously close to her lips, he caressed the side of her face and grinned. "I have to say good night."

  Evelyn began to protest but was silenced by the warm invasion of his lips. Forsaking all propriety, her body curved into his. The kiss lasted all of three seconds, but was hot enough to singe the hair straight off a hog.

  Royce steadied her, then flicked her chin and let himself out. It must have been at least ten minutes before the sluggish brain of hers came back full force and told her it was time to crawl into bed, lest she fall asleep standing up.

  Somehow she made it into her room and fell asleep with a giant smile on her face.

  Chapter Ten

  "Morning," a voice interrupted Evelyn's sleep. Must have been a figment of her overactive imagination.

  Stretching like a cat, she yawned and pushed herself out of bed. Her body hit something hard. She opened her eyes and gasped. Standing in front of her was Royce, fully clothed and smiling like a lion that had just caught his prey.

  She felt her face heat as she realized her state of dress. "Royce McArthur! I'm barely dressed!" Seething, she sank into her bed and threw the covers over her head.

  "We're going on a picnic," he announced, nonplussed by her outburst.

  "I don't care!" She sunk even lower into her mattress with sheer embarrassment.

  It took all the strength she had not to squeal when she felt Royce weigh down the left side of the bed as he took a seat beside her.

  "Are you going to hide in there all morning? I mean, I don't mind playing hide-and-seek if the final result is I end up in your bed, but I thought you would want to know our parents have planned a full day's excursion picnicking and shopping—and, of course, they are unchaperoned."

  Evelyn sighed and pulled down the covers only far enough to reveal her large eyes. Although she hated to admit it, concern etched in her voice as she spoke. "You mean they're going out two days in a row? Together?"

  He nodded as he inched his hand close to where she was gripping the blankets the tightest. "Tsk, tsk, Evelyn. You won't be one of those brides who hides under the covers, will you? We can't have that."

  What did he mean we? "It's February."

  "Your knowledge of the calendar is astonishing! Say, do you have the months memorized?"

  Evelyn groaned.

  Royce laughed. "Haven't you noticed this unreasonably warm weather? I'll bet it's no colder than a brisk spring day out there. Now hurry up. We have some spying to do. I'll just wait outside. That is, unless you'd like me to stay and help?"

  Evelyn was still frozen in place, but managed to move her hand and point toward the door for him to leave. Peeking around the covers she watched his beautifully dressed form walk away.

  "Oh, I almost forgot." He turned around again and winked. "I love your hair that way, down and curved around your shoulders. Makes a man wish he could take a peek under that sheet."

  "Out!" She threw a pillow at his head, but he had already shut the door. His laughter boomed down the hallway.

  How in tarnation did he even get in her room without her maid having an apoplexy or her butler shooting him? He must have sweet-talked her maid somehow, or bought her silence with one of his devilishly handsome smiles.

  "Cad," she mumbled to herself and went to the washbasin. If her father was out with Mrs. McArthur again, it could only mean one thing. He had found a woman he could possibly love. Her daddy played for keeps and wasn't the sort of man to waste his time tinkering around. When he got an idea in his head, he followed through with it. And it seemed the object of his affection and thoughts lingered
on Royce's mother.

  ****

  Royce sat at Evelyn's breakfast table and drank a cup of hot tea, letting it soothe his rattled nerves. Of course, he had seen plenty of women in bed—women dressed with French lacy things that left nothing to the imagination. Yet seeing Evelyn in her cotton nightgown was enough to send him into a frenzy, abandoning all rules of propriety and falling to his knees right then and there. The poor girl almost had him proposing before she had even opened her mouth.

  Shuddering at how close he had come to ruining all his best-laid plans, he took another lingering sip and paused. Footsteps neared the room, so he straightened his jacket and rose to greet Evelyn.

  "Are you better now, sweetheart?"

  She paused, looked down at herself, then back at him. "Yes. I believe I am, now that I'm fully clothed and wide awake." She raised an eyebrow and poured herself some tea. "Since you've interrupted my sleep and nearly frightened me to death with your unexpected presence in my room, what exactly do you have in mind for our little spy game today?"

  "I thought you'd never ask." He sipped some more tea and waited for her to sit before he explained. "They're going to have a picnic here. Then the plan, if I heard it correctly, was to attend the Worthington's Valentine Ball tonight."

  Evelyn sighed. "I dislike balls."

  "And I dislike wind, but it doesn't mean I sit and pout about it."

  "I'm not—"

  "You were, don't deny it. No pouting. Just think of it as another one of our spying adventures."

  "Our adventures?"

  Royce grew suddenly nervous and cleared his throat. "Yes. Well, I… I was hoping we could attend together." Long awkward pause. "As a couple. After all, this is your first Valentine's Day in New York, is it not?"