An Earl's Guide to Catch a Lady (14 page)

Common sense told Evelyn that she was innocent, but previous betrayals would have him lash out.

“It is not what it seems,” Evelyn whispered cautiously, recognizing she would need to tread lightly. Those hard green eyes lifted to pierce her soul.

“Then why did you lie to me?” The question came softly, surprising Evelyn. She had expected anger.

“Because you demanded the truth,” Evelyn said on a sigh. “And I did not wish to anger you.”

Matthew exhaled. “Do you know who he is?”

Evelyn shook her head, glancing at the array of sweets in thought. “No.”

“Look at me when you say it.”

She shot him a glare. “No.”

Matthew nodded, satisfied. On some level he understood her defiance. She was struggling to keep control of her life, refusing to marry and hand him the reins. He needed to show her that she wouldn’t be giving up control over her life; she would share it with him.

“Will you be attending the Richmond ball tonight?”

“Yes,” she murmured reluctantly.

“Then I shall look forward to seeing you there.”

Leaning forward he planted a chaste kiss on her head if only to show her that his anger had not been directed at her.

A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding escaped her when the door shut behind him. She slumped against the staircase and sighed. What a morning this was turning out to be!

Patience had never been one of his virtues, Matthew reflected as he was shown into St. Aldwyn’s study. And after having been made to wait for over half an hour he had lost what little patience he had. The room, he noted, still looked the same as it had six years ago. Nothing changed, not even the man sitting behind the grand mahogany desk. But then, it didn’t matter whether St. Aldwyn had changed or not, what mattered was that he had changed.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” St. Aldwyn drawled. His lazy stance not fooling Matthew one bit.

“I’m not here on a social call.”

“Never would have thought it, old friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” Matthew growled, noting with smug satisfaction the amusement fading from his ‘old friend’s’ face.

“I’m only here to warn you to stay away from Evelyn and to give up this ridiculous farce as her secret admirer.”

St. Aldwyn regarded him for a moment before he answered, “I’ve no interest in Evelyn beyond friendship.”

“Well, consider your friendship over.”

“This conversation seems awfully familiar, does it not?” St. Aldwyn remarked. “Bath, I believe it was?”

Matthew clenched his jaw. “Don’t test me St. Aldwyn. I’ve been lenient beyond reason and if you so much as touch her again, I will rip you apart.”

“Be that as it may, I’m not secretly courting Evelyn. That would imply that I have an interest in marriage, which I can assure you, I do not.”

Matthew flicked the note across the desk. “So you did not send her this note, along with every damn sweet in London?”

St. Aldwyn did not touch the note, nor spare it a glance. “No, I did not send her that note.”

Matthew cursed. He’d been so certain it was St. Aldwyn behind this farce, so certain that he would put a stop to this secret admirer business once and for all. It annoyed him that he was no closer to the identity of the man than he was when he first saw the tree. It had been deliberately done, so deliberately that there would be no chance he could not have missed it. Which he had. Until Westfield pointed it out. This admirer wanted to be noticed by far more than just Evelyn.

“Thank you for your time,” Matthew said gruffly, snatching up the note, tension evident in his frame. “If you will excuse me, I have some things to settle before this evening.”

“Of course,” St. Aldwyn stood. “If you need any assistance with this matter, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you, but no.”

St. Aldwyn watched Grey take his leave with a smile. He did not think Grey was satisfied with the outcome of his visit, but perhaps that was not a bad thing. He might not have sent Evelyn the note, but he was happy it rattled Grey’s composure.

Too long his friend had secluded himself in the country, effectively cutting himself out of society and the life of the people who loved him. Granted, St. Aldwyn had made a big mistake all those years ago, but in his defense, he hadn’t been aware Grey had formed such a deep attachment to the trollop, or he would have avoided her like the plague.

Now fate had gifted him with a second chance at friendship even though said friend was proving to be stubborn. Curious how Lady Evelyn handled all the attention showered upon her, he decided perhaps it was time to pay a visit to the Tremaine residence.

St. Aldwyn’s conversation was still fresh in Matthew’s mind on his way to his town house. No matter how he tried, the memory of that night, all those years ago, never quite left him. Bitterly he wondered if it ever would. Even after six years that woman still had the power to fire the blood in his veins to boiling point. He hated everything about her, the arrogant tilt of her head, that ever-taunting gleam in her coal-black eyes. The sound of her voice.

When he’d caught her in bed with St. Aldwyn he’d reacted rashly. Blindly. He should have demanded an explanation from his friend, and perhaps not exiled himself to the extent that he had done.

His steps continued, echoing through the frigid London air. Turmoil raged in his heart. Self-loathing poured through him, boiling through his veins. That bitch could still ruin his life even after all these years. He would not let her win. His mouth twisted. Hell, how she’d fooled them all. And to think he’d thought himself in love with her. He supposed St. Aldwyn had done him a favor, might even have saved him from marrying that whore. What a travesty.

Yet it changed nothing. It didn’t erase the unfortunate end of their friendship, his seclusion for six years and the hollow emptiness in his heart. A hollow emptiness only one woman could fill, but refused to. Why would St. Aldwyn not leave him be? Why would he not stop provoking him? In fact, the bastard seemed to delight in it.

Deliberately he forced the tension from his jaw. It would do him no good to reflect on things he couldn’t change. His priority was Evelyn and securing her hand in marriage. He would not let some fop of an admirer cause doubt to enter his mind.

He hurried up the front stairs when he reached his home, impatient to see Evelyn again. His butler opened the door with impeccable timing, but with a face full of panic. “Sir! There is—”

His poor butler never finished his sentence. It was interrupted by the rich purr of a female voice.

“Good evening darling. I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time.”

Matthew’s heart nearly stopped as he watched the one woman immerge from the shadows he never wanted to see again, a glass of whisky in her hand.

Charlotte.

Chapter 12

“What about the Earl of Clarence?”

Evelyn looked around the morning room where two pairs of eyes scrutinized her. She sighed. “I’ve never even spoke one word to him.”

They were all trying to figure out who her mystery admirer was. So far no gentlemen came up to scratch.

“Are you sure it’s not Grey?” Belle asked.

“No,” Evelyn said with a shake of her head. If it hadn’t been for Matthew’s reaction to the note, she might have entertained the idea, but he had been furious. “You should have seen his face when he saw all the treats. Not to mention his reaction to the note. I’ve never seen anyone so calm in their anger before.”

Belle clapped her hands together. “He’s jealous, how exciting! Although it would be best to figure out who this mystery admirer is before the Earl does something rash.”

“I doubt he would do anything to cause a scandal,” Evelyn said unconvinced. She’d overheard the Countess of Gatesbourne mention that the Earl had once been a charming rake, but that seclusion had turned him into a bore, albeit a handsome one.

Jo and Belle exchanged a glance, and then gave her a have you lost your marbles look. They weren’t convinced either.

“What about Wes?” Evelyn asked. It made sense. He could be just about the only other man aside from her brother who knew her that well.

“I don’t think so,” Jo said considering her question. “He enjoys watching events unfold, not taking part in the action.”

Belle nodded. “That’s true. He can be such a bore, lurking in the shadows.”

“He deliberately provoked Matthew by flirting with me.”

A moment of silence passed before they all burst out in laughter. Wes might flirt, yes, but that was about the extent of it. He loved himself too much to get caught in a situation that might end up in a brawl.

“Perhaps your mystery man is deliberately trying to provoke the Earl?” Jo suggested. “An enemy perhaps?”

Belle scratched her head in thought. “It makes sense. Why else would he remain nameless?” she pointed out.

“And he hinted he would see you tonight,” Jo said, her eyes wide.

Yet another problem she faced. Matthew would track her every move like a hawk. The mystery man would be watching too, and once again Evelyn had the distinct impression of being a pawn in a game of chess.

Her gaze travelled fondly over the faces of her friends. They would do anything for her and she in return, would do anything for them. Like her they remained unmarried by their own choice. Unlike her they did not have a stubborn Earl determined to leg-shackle them into exile.

“I daresay St. Aldwyn and the Earl have proven to be enemies,” Jo murmured.

Belle gave a shocked gasp. “Would that not be the frosting on the delicious yummy cake?”

St. Aldwyn? Now that was a distinct possibility, one worth looking into. From the moment he found her in Bath she suspected he had an agenda for not dragging her to her brother, tattered reputation and all. She made the perfect pawn for their little battle.

An image of Matthew’s tall hulky frame, dark wavy hair, and green eyes filled her mind. His eyes held the fiery gleam of wicked secrets and age old wisdom. A man surrounded by a veil of temptation, danger and pain. The sort of man that would normally have her hiding behind a potted plant. It did not seem fair that his eyes burned with fire when he looked at her, making her want rip off his clothes.

A shudder rippled through her.

“Evelyn? Are you all right?”

Jo’s question pulled her gaze upward. “Yes of course,” she said, a touch too breathless for her liking and unable to keep the hitch of wistfulness from her voice. The man had the ability to reduce her to a shivering mess.

Belle frowned. “So do you think your admirer might be St. Aldwyn?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I’m not sure. He’s certainly up to something so it might be worth looking into.”

Jo reached over to touch Evelyn’s hand. “If St. Aldwyn is involved it’s safe to assume your brother may be too.”

Evelyn blinked. She hadn’t thought that far.

“What does your brother say about this entire business with the Earl?” Belle asked.

Simon? Well, he couldn’t be more pleased she’d finally attracted a suitor. He truly believed she would not resist the match.

“He’s been quite tight lipped over the courtship,” Evelyn admitted with a lift of her shoulders. “But he keeps staring at me with this little smile. I sometimes get the urge to throw a loaf of bread at him, just to wipe that ridiculous twitch from his face.”

Both girls made a sound between a laugh and a snort.

Jo recovered first. “Wes mentioned an ongoing wager in the betting book of Whites. If there is money at stake almost anyone could be your admirer.”

Marvelous. Another wager.

“The gifts alone must have cost a fortune,” Evelyn pointed out.

“Money might not be all that’s on the line,” Belle suggested. “For all we know they are wagering castles!”

Castles? How like men it would be to wager family estates.

Evelyn’s attention was drawn to the door when the butler suddenly appeared, the spawn of the devil looming behind him.

St. Aldwyn pushed his significantly bigger body passed poor Walter, not giving the butler a chance to announce him.

“Ladies,” he murmured as he came to stand before three shocked faces. He was used to seeing simpering young misses shocked in his presence, some even fainted, but seeing it on these particular three women gave him a great level satisfaction.

“My lord, how very good of you to—”

“What are you doing here?” Jo interrupted rudely.

Evelyn’s head whipped to her friend with wide eyes. She cleared her throat and gave Jo a warning glance before she said, “Simon is out on errands.”

“I gathered as much,” he replied with a brilliant smile, plopping down next to Jo, unfazed by her rudeness. Evelyn saw her friend stiffen, no doubt feeling crowded next to his much bigger frame. It might be her imagination, but she got the impression of animosity between them, though one might say Damien enjoyed annoying Jo.

Perhaps Jo wasn’t so far off from being in the same wagon as Evelyn. An intriguing notion, one she wouldn’t dwell on. St. Aldwyn would never settle down.

“Would you like to join us for tea?” Evelyn asked in a deceptively pleasant voice. This was their chance to find out if he was the secret admirer.

He rewarded her with a brilliant smile. “A delightful idea. That is if I haven’t interrupted your daily gossips.”

Josephine rolled her eyes.

“Not at all, my lord,” Belle purred flirtatiously. “Your presence is meant to be.”

It was Evelyn’s turn to cast her eyes heavenward.

“We were discussing the current events of the Season.”

Damien nodded thoughtfully, but not before giving Belle an odd look. “It has been quite the interesting Season so far, I agree.”

Evelyn gave a friendly laugh, perhaps too friendly. “Interesting yes, it has been that.”

“Very interesting,” Belle chirped. “It seems our Evelyn has garnered the affection of a gentleman who wishes to remain anonymous.”

“Indeed?” Damien murmured as his gaze settled on Evelyn. “You should be careful Lady Evelyn. Men who wish to stay anonymous usually have something to hide.”

“Do you have something to hide, my lord?”

He chuckled and Evelyn could not help but compare the throaty sound to the soft timbre that was Matthew’s laugh.

“I’m an open book, my lady.”

Jo snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Evelyn took a sip of her tea, studying St. Aldwyn over the rim of her cup. No, he was not her mystery man, but he might know the identity. Yet she suspected he would not be such an open book in front of her friends, so she would need to pull him aside tonight.

It occurred to Evelyn, a few hours later at the Richmond Ball that perhaps she should have danced more instead of lurking beside potted plants. Perhaps then, her feet wouldn’t feel as though they were about to fall off. She’d hardly had a moment of rest, and decided she would join the wallflowers against their wall, and sit on her behind, legs outstretched.

Fortunately the evening was almost over, unfortunately she had another dance. A few onlookers glanced her way, but Evelyn did not care. She must look a fright, wearing one of Madam De La Frey’s vivid green gowns, reminding her of a forest, or, Evelyn crinkled her eyes in thought, seaweed. Yet she sat amongst the dreary wallflowers, a vibrant flower amongst lusterless twigs, and not very ladylike too, with her shoulders drooped and her legs outstretch.

“Well, aren’t you a sight, Lady Evelyn,” Wesley drawled, appearing before her, drawing giggles form the wallflowers.

“How gracious of you to notice.”

Wesley grinned. “I daresay I’m not the only one.”

Evelyn chuckled. “If you are here to lure me to the dance floor, please, I cannot.”

Wesley shook his head. “I am but here to offer you some company. I do so enjoy yours, you see.”

He winked at the lady sitting two chairs down.

“You are such a rogue, Wes. There are more interesting conversations for you than mine.”

“You wound me, my lady. I hang onto every word you say.”

A niggling sensation she couldn’t quite grasp at the back of her mind caused Evelyn to pause. She shook it off.

“I see that your browbeater isn’t here to keep all the young gents at bay with his glare.”

Evelyn stifled a laugh. It was true. Matthew had yet to make an appearance. She wondered if he even would.

“He has abandoned his post, it would seem. Not very good for my feet,” she wiggled one foot in demonstration.

“If you require protection, I will gladly pledge my service to you.”

Evelyn glimpsed Damien approaching. “No need, kind knight, I have but one dragon to slay and my quest is over.”

Damien came up beside Wesley. “Wetherby,” he nodded.

“St. Aldwyn,” Wesley greeted with good humor, unperturbed by the incorrect delivery of his title.

He held out his arm for Evelyn, “I believe this is my dance, Lady Evelyn.”

Skirts shuffling, Evelyn reluctantly rose to put her arm in his. She refrained from groaning in pain.

Wesley bent to pick something off the ground.

He held out a small note to Evelyn. “You must have dropped this, Lady Evelyn.”

With a frown she took the note, ignoring Damien’s curious glance. How had it gotten in her skirts?

“Thank you.”

With a bow Wesley took Evelyn’s seat amongst the wallflowers and giggles erupted, leaving Damien to guide her onto the dance floor. The beat of the Waltz drifted through the air, chasing away the chatter and laughter and to Evelyn’s surprise, the dull discomfort in her feet. She had always loved the sound of music though she rarely played herself.

Damien’s hand moved to the small of her back.

“So my lady, to what do I owe the pleasure of this dance?”

A fair question, Evelyn supposed. She had practically shoved her dance card in his face. How else was she supposed to get him alone?

“I gathered you may know something of my secret admirer.”

He lifted a dark brow in question. “How did you gather that, pray tell.”

She hesitated before answering, “A logical deduction I would say. You are always in the thick of things, my lord.”

Damien chuckled. “But a mistaken one, nonetheless. I will however admit to curiosity. Who is this gentleman that puts our male population to shame with his extravagant gifts?”

Evelyn laughed at his put out tone, but became distracted by the sight of Matthew sauntering through the ballroom doors with her brother. Her heart gave the briefest flutter in her chest. It's only natural that they would renew their friendship. But what of Damien? He might have done rather horrid things in the past, but he deserved a second chance, just like Matthew.

From across the room their eyes met and locked. His grin spread from ear to ear, until his eyes landed on her dance partner. His smile turned downward. Evelyn supposed she should have pretended to be ignorant of his arrival, but that would be silly and provoke him in such a way he would attach himself to her side for the remainder the evening, scaring away anyone who dared come near her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed when, returning her attention to Damien, she trod heavily on his foot. “I’m so sorry!”

She had stumbled awkwardly too, and Damien had to grasp her arm until she righted herself and picked up the steps of the dance again. A few of the dancers close to them looked at her with concern. She flicked a quick glance in Matthew’s direction and saw his narrowed eyes glare at them. Did he think she had done it on purpose?

“My fault entirely,” Damien assured her in such a fashion she wondered if indeed, it had been his fault. “I only hope my back survives the daggers being glared into it.”

Evelyn let out a half-pressed laugh, embarrassed that he had seen her ogling Matthew, even though the man knew almost every intimate detail of her life. He swirled her around a few times so quickly that Evelyn was breathless when she stopped. She laughed in delight.