She had not fully expected him to scurry over so soon after receiving her note. But it was a good sign. One that gave her back some of her confidence after his abandoning of her in the park two days before.
“Are you going in or making him wait all day?” Tibby asked softly.
“A gentleman craves what he must wait for,” Evangeline said with a shrug. “I didn’t make the rules. I simply play by them.”
She didn’t allow Tibby a chance to argue, but opened the door to the parlor with a wide smile. Henry was standing at the fireplace that was brightly decorated with holly and ivy branches for the holiday. He turned as she entered.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Killam,” she said, coming toward him.
“Lady Evangeline,” he returned with a slight bow and a quick glance at Tibby. Evangeline barely kept herself from sighing. It was so very irritating to require a maid wherever one went. Made it very difficult to seduce a man.
She let her gaze flit over the very man she was trying to seduce. His hair was a little too long and he’d obviously been running his fingers through it, for it had settled in a wild manner. His spectacles were on the bridge of his nose and behind them his dark green gaze followed her as she moved to the sideboard and the tea set that had been placed there.
“You take only milk, don’t you?” she asked.
His brows lifted. “You recall that detail, do you?”
“After the number of times you have joined us here, of course,” she said, and turned with his cup. They moved to the settee together and sat, just a cushion between them. He sipped his tea, then set it aside on the table behind him.
“Your father is so important, he must get, what…ten to twenty callers a week? And then the suppers and other gatherings he holds…a conservative guess would be another thousand people through those front doors. Not counting balls. You must have two to three thousand guests at this house each year, at minimum. So yes, it surprises me that you would recall how I like my tea.”
She laughed, and for a moment all her machinations faded and there was only Henry, making calculations in his head because he couldn’t help himself. “There may be three thousand guests to this house per annum, my dear Mr. Killam, but none are you. You make an impression.”
He stared at her, his gaze holding hers for a beat. Two. His pupils had dilated a fraction and she saw the hint of longing there in his stare. Wanting. She’d felt it from other men, in truth, she’d occasionally felt it toward other men. But this was different. This was something warmer and more specific, and she couldn’t help but shift in her seat as an unexpected tingle moved through her.
“Tibby, I left my book up in my chamber,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder. “And I thought Mr. Killam might have an interest. Why don’t you go look for it?”
Tibby’s eyes went wide and she glanced back at the door. “My lady—”
“I’m not certain where it is,” Evangeline said, glaring with meaning at her servant. “Start in my bedroom. You know the one. It has a blue cover. If it’s not there, try my sitting room and then the library.”
Tibby’s jaw set, but it was clear she’d gotten the message. She bobbed out a brief curtsey. “Yes, my lady.”
Her maid left and Evangeline let out a deep sigh. “At last, we are free,” she muttered.
Henry swallowed hard. “I suppose we are.”
“Have I shocked you, sending away my maid?” she asked with as light a tone as she could muster when she was now surprisingly nervous. She got up and paced to the door where she turned and faced him. “Would you be even more shocked if I did…this?” She leaned against the door and slowly shut it, pressing her back to the cool surface as she stared at him.
He stood and once again his throat worked as he swallowed. “We are…friends, aren’t we?” he choked out. “I suppose there is no harm in friends being alone.”
“Not at all,” she purred, taking a step toward him slowly. “I’m so glad you came, Henry.”
She said the words, designed to make his cheeks brighten, which of course they did. But she was surprised to find she truly meant them with all her heart. She was glad he’d come. Glad he was here with her. What that meant and why it was so abjectly terrifying was not a subject she intended to explore further. Especially not when Henry had taken a long step around the settee and was now in arm’s reach of her, watching her with an expression of surprise.
Her plan was working. And she couldn’t stop now.
Henry had always been good at figures and hypotheses and discovering the truth of a matter in a scientific way. Relationships hadn’t ever been his strong suit. He had a small group of friends and occasionally danced at a ball when it was necessary, but connection with other people wasn’t a skill he had spent a good deal of time cultivating.
Today, though, he recognized a shocking fact in one explosive moment and it set everything in his world on its head. Evangeline was flirting with him. Evangeline.
Was she? It seemed outrageous that it could be so. He drew a breath and decided to address the matter as he would in a scientific endeavor.
The hypothesis: that Evangeline was flirting.
Now to analyze the evidence. First, she was looking at him in a different way. Staring into his eyes, leaning forward, smiling more. One could dismiss that as friendly, but her pupils were dilated like an animal’s would be in a state of sexual arousal. He had a sneaking feeling his were the same. But then, he had always liked Evangeline in a more than friendly way.
Point one for the hypothesis.
The second bit of evidence was how she was talking. She had behaved as though he stood out in the crowd of thousands who traipsed through her father’s door each year. Which meant she was either lying, which would be an attempt to make him feel special, or she was telling the truth and that meant he somehow was special to her.
Point two for the hypothesis.
“Henry, what are you doing?”
“Thinking,” he muttered.
She tilted her head back and laughed. It was a rich, throaty sound that filled the small parlor with music and made it feel lighter. He found himself smiling along with her.
“Your mind is so remarkable,” she said, inching a little closer on the settee. Her fingers wiggled across the cushion between them, closing the gap. Together they watched as she glided them over his own hand.
She was touching him. Oh, she’d touched him before, certainly. Shaken his hand, rested a palm on his arm as she laughed when he said something foolish to garner her attention, they’d danced a handful of times in the many years their fathers had been acquainted.
But this…this felt so different. Neither of them wore gloves. Her fingers felt heavy on the top of his hand. Warm. And when he looked at her, her lips were parted, almost in surprise.
Point three for the hypothesis. Evangeline was flirting with him. He felt he could make a strong argument for that if pressed. Like her hand pressed into his and sent shockwaves of awareness through his body. Settling in his blood. Heating the length of him that was suddenly and uncomfortably reacting to her proximity and the soft glaze to her stare.
He jumped to his feet and paced away to the window where he stared out at the garden behind the house. He was having a natural, physical reaction to a woman. That was science. If he thought of something else, anything else, that would cut off the reaction.
Why couldn’t he think of anything else besides the slight honeysuckle smell to her skin and the way it felt against his own?
“I was worried about you after the park,” she said.
He sighed in relief. Her words put him to mind of his father and that certainly solved the problem in his breeches. He faced her with a shrug. “You needn’t, though it is kind of you.”
“Do you want to talk about your problem?” she asked, rising and moving toward him with slow, almost deliberate steps.
There was a lump in his throat and he struggled to speak past it. “Er, well…I’m not…it’s just—�
�
He did not have the chance to finish the thought. At that moment, Evangeline’s maid returned to the room, a book in hand. Her hawkish gaze flitted from Evangeline to him and back again. “I found the book, my lady,” she announced, a little breathlessly, holding out the volume.
Evangeline’s expression when she looked at her servant was one of pure irritation. “Wonderful, Tibby. That’s wonderful. I wonder that it didn’t take you longer.”
“Because it was hidden behind your pillow, you mean?” the maid asked.
Evangeline lifted her brows and shot a look at Henry with a laugh. “What an accusation! If the book was behind the pillows, it must have fallen there by mistake. But…yes, thank you, Tibby.”
Henry smoothed his hands over his waistcoat and moved forward. Right now his mind felt entirely addled and all he could think about was the way Evangeline’s hands gripped that book. Why in God’s name had she flirted with him when she’d never done so…or at least not like this…before?
It was very confusing.
“I think I must excuse myself,” he said. “I suddenly am not feeling well.”
Evangeline’s lips parted and there was true concern on her face. “Oh, Henry, I’m so sorry. Yes, of course, go and take care of yourself. I’ll see you out.”
He nodded and followed her. She fell into step beside him in the hall and he felt her watching him from the corner of her eye. “Are you coming to my father’s soiree on Sunday?”
Henry caught his breath. He had received the invitation for the gathering the day before, but hadn’t opened it. “I-I hadn’t intended it, actually, Evangeline.”
“No?” she said. “Oh, that is disappointing. You know it will be all my father’s ridiculous friends. I would very much like it if you were there.”
Henry pursed his lips. His father would be there. His father was always at the Duke of Allingham’s parties. He practically begged to carry the far more important man’s train. If Henry saw his father it might give the viscount the opportunity to demand Henry’s answer about his future. All very good reasons to avoid the party at all costs.
And yet, as they reached the front door, Evangeline leaned in, resting her hand on his forearm gently. Her blue eyes held his as she looked up at him. Her position must have been by design, for it put her in the very best light possible. She was as luminous as any star in the heavens.
“Please, won’t you come?” she asked.
He found himself nodding, for there was no denying her. “Yes.”
Her smile lit up the world and she squeezed his arm gently. “Wonderful. I cannot wait. Please feel better.”
He continued to nod like a fool and stepped out toward his carriage. But as he climbed in, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he was getting himself into.
And what exactly it was that Evangeline thought she was designing by her sudden change in behavior toward him.
Chapter 5
Evangeline stared as Henry’s carriage ferried him away from her and felt a twinge of regret she couldn’t quite understand. She was building a plan right now—there was no reason not to feel perfectly neutral about it.
“How did it go?” Tibby asked.
Evangeline turned to face her. “Well,” she said softly. “Except that my maid insisted on interrupting my progress.”
That wasn’t exactly true, of course. Nothing had gone exactly as she’d expected that afternoon. She’d thought she’d have him eating out of her hand within half an hour. Instead, Henry had just…stared at her. Was the look one of desire? One of interest? It certainly wasn’t one of acquiescence.
“Why are you doing this?” Tibby asked as they stepped back into the warm foyer and shut the door behind themselves. “Because it seems to bring you little joy.”
Evangeline clenched her hands at her sides. Her existence was always one of careful control, but this afternoon that felt frayed. She shook her head. “Three times during this past Season my father casually mentioned my marrying soon. Three. I have no idea if he will follow through on that musing, but I wouldn’t put it past him. He could use my dowry for connection of some kind to many a family or endeavor. You know how that kind of managing ended for my mother, my sister, my brother’s wife, nearly every woman we’ve ever known! You yourself know what being arranged and controlled can do. If I don’t design my future, it will be designed for me, and probably to my detriment.”
Tibby’s expression softened. “You’re afraid.”
Lips parting, Evangeline tried to think of a dismissive retort to that troubling observation but could find none. Her maid was right. She was afraid. Talking to Miss Lesley less than a week before had only sharpened the tip of that fear so it dug in deeper than ever. This was not an emotion she generally felt. She’d cultivated a life that didn’t allow for it.
And now she wanted…needed to grasp back some of the power that kept those fears, and their causes, at bay.
“Well, if I could manage to woo Henry into marrying, at least I would be linked to a friend.” She sighed as she thought of the moments of warmth between them in the parlor. When she’d touched his hand she’d felt an unexpected jolt of…something. Like she was more aware of her body than she had been before.
“Well, he seems in no hurry to get there,” Tibby said with a shake of her head.
Evangeline clenched her teeth in frustration. Much as she hated to admit it, her maid was right. She felt Henry’s attraction to her often, but he never made a move toward it. He would need a push.
“I think first I must know exactly what it is that is troubling him,” she said, smiling as she glanced out the window and saw a fine carriage entering the drive. “And I know exactly who might have the answers. My father.”
The carriage stopped and footmen burst from all sides, hurrying to help her father down. Their butler, Hughes, entered the foyer, but Evangeline lifted a hand to stay him from his course.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Hughes. I need to speak to my father, I’ll tend to him.”
The butler nodded his head slightly and left her and Tibby in the waiting area. She tossed her maid a look filled with meaning she hoped Tibby would understand and then opened the door.
Her father bustled in. “It’s blasted cold out there,” he huffed as he pulled his coat away. He blinked as he found himself holding it out not to the butler but his daughter.
Evangeline smiled. “Isn’t it, though.” She took the coat and handed it to Tibby. “Welcome home, Father.”
His brow wrinkled and his gaze darted over her. “Taken up the servants’ duties, eh?”
She laughed as she held out a hand for his hat and gloves, which she also passed on to Tibby. The maid scurried away, leaving them alone. For all her sass with Evangeline, Tibby did not trifle with the Duke of Allingham. No one did.
“Not exactly,” Evangeline said as she linked arms with her father. “I only wished to speak to you, and what a happy coincidence that you were coming in as my company had just departed. Would you like tea in the parlor or should we go to your study?”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “The parlor is fine if a set is already prepared there. What is it you want, Evangeline?”
“Want? Only to speak to you.” They entered the room she had just inhabited with Henry, and she released her father’s arm as she went to the sideboard and poured him a cup of tea. She sweetened it and then shot him a naughty look before she splashed a hint of whisky in the brew.
His expression softened a bit. “Just as I like it, eh?”
“It’s the holiday season—why not celebrate with a little indulgence?” she replied, sitting on the chaise as he settled into a chair across from her. “Were you at the club?”
“Yes, and of course the whole discourse devolved into politics.” He shook his head. “I went to play billiards, not listen to ramblings. Next time I’ll just invite someone here.”
Evangeline nodded to placate him, but this was the perfect opening. “Perhaps Lord Killam. He is
always good company.”
Her father shrugged one shoulder. “Good enough. He certainly wishes to impress me.”
“It’s funny you mention him.” He lifted his brows and she ignored the unspoken fact that she had mentioned the viscount first. “For his younger son Henry was here calling today.”
“Ah, yes. The scientist.” Allingham chuckled. “How it sticks in Killam’s craw that his boy is in what he considers a trade. He was going on and on about it after the ball Saturday last. Couldn’t trip over himself fast enough to tell me he didn’t approve.”
“He considers Henry’s research a trade?” Evangeline said, wrinkling her brow. “Many of rank have interest in the stars. It’s all the rage, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps, but that paper he published embarrassed Killam.”
Evangeline nodded. Now the pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Why Henry had been so upset that day in the park. Why Henry had mentioned his paper.
“What does the viscount intend to do about it?” Evangeline asked.
Her father shrugged. “I know the boy has always been a particular favorite of yours, but why all the sudden interest, Evangeline?”
She leaned back. “A particular favorite?” she repeated. “Whatever do you mean by that?”
“You two put your heads together any time he’s here,” Allingham said as he got up and crossed back to the sideboard, where he splashed more whisky in his half-drunk tea. “And you said he was here, calling on you. You could have a duke, you know. Or an earl or a marquess…”
She waved her hand to interrupt him. “Oh, Father, you tell me this constantly. Don’t change the subject.”
“What was the subject?” He stared into his tea. “Oh yes, Killam’s youngest. Well, he muttered about cutting him off to end the foolishness. I suppose he will do so if he thinks it will keep his own status from being devalued by, God forbid, science.”
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