Best of Both Rogues (9 page)

Ben’s awareness of Eve on the seat beside him eclipsed everything in the lecture room. He was in tune to every breath she took, the faint scent of her soap, the heat of her body filling the space between them even as she sat at the far edge of her chair to create distance.

He ached to touch her. Nothing too conspicuous. Just the casual brush of their arms or a surreptitious stroke of his finger against her inner wrist. But she was no longer his to touch. Ben reminded himself of this many times a day, but it didn’t feel true no matter how often he repeated it. He folded his hands in his lap to keep from acting on the impulse.

Hackberry didn’t believe he had made any progress with discouraging Eve. Ben was uncertain that was true. The way her pert nose wrinkled when Hackberry rushed off to the lectern without bidding her farewell spoke volumes. She was not pleased. Ben simply hoped her displeasure was directed at Hackberry only.

Encouraging Eve to toss over Hackberry was only half the battle, though. Ben needed to get back in her good graces if he hoped to win her heart again, and he needed to proceed carefully. If he overstepped his bounds, Eve would have nothing more to do with him. Her conscience wouldn’t allow her to give in to temptation and make a cuckold of Hackberry, so until she cried off, Ben must practice patience.

There would be plenty of time to court Eve once Hackberry was no longer a threat. With only a week and a half left until the wedding, however, Hackberry needed to step up his efforts. Ben suspected he wasn’t trying hard enough, or else Eve didn’t want to see Hackberry’s faults.

At the conclusion of the lecture, Hackberry chose a seat at the front of the room instead of joining them. A long stretch of quiet followed as another gentleman with slicked-down hair shuffled through his papers at the lectern, his lips moving as if he was mumbling to himself. Ben soon lost interest in the goings-on at the front of the room.

Eve turned her head and caught him staring at her. Her tentative smile made his pulse quicken. It had been too long since she had looked on him with anything resembling pleasure. She leaned to whisper in his ear. “I think Alice is getting antsy.”

Peeking around Eve, Ben discovered the maid nibbling on her fingernails. He placed his mouth close to Eve’s ear and whispered back, “I could arrange a tour if you think she would prefer to view the exhibits.”

A slight quiver traveled through her. “Yes.” Her voice had a wispy quality to it that made him smile. “I believe she would enjoy a tour. M-may I join you?”

His smile grew and he held out his hand. “Shall we?” When she placed her hand in his, it required all his willpower not to gloat over this small victory.

The three of them slipped through the door as quietly as possible before the next lecturer began. He believed Hackberry would forgive their defection. In fact, he had been agreeable about the whole situation, which made him a bigger man than Ben. At first, Ben believed Hackberry’s willingness to step aside was the act of a greedy man obsessed with his studies, but Ben didn’t think that was true anymore. He seemed genuinely concerned for Eve’s welfare and interested in her happiness, which only made Hackberry’s decision more puzzling.

After their dance lesson, the poor man had looked miserable. He’d lamented giving Eve flowers that made her sneeze and causing her to become hurt during the waltz. Ben had tried to reassure him that despite being a horrid dancer, Hackberry wasn’t responsible. Ben blamed himself. Even though he had known his presence made her uncomfortable, he had positioned himself where she couldn’t avoid seeing him. Eve’s injury was the result of being distracted and troubled by his presence. He was pleased she seemed more comfortable with him today.

“Wait here.” Ben left Eve and her maid at the top of the stairs while he went to speak with the porter about locating a guide to show them around the museum. After they exchanged introductions with an older gentleman joining their group for the tour, the under-librarian led them to the upper floor where the insect exhibit was housed. Ben expected insects would hold little appeal for the women, but Alice seemed enraptured as their guide pointed out the different species and shared facts about the insect life cycle. When the under-librarian invited them to follow him to the worm exhibit, Alice was on his heels.

Ben and Eve hung back, walking at a sedate pace. She watched her maid with a soft smile, then linked her arm with his. “I’ve never seen Alice this excited about anything. I should allow her to accompany me on outings more often. Thank you for suggesting a tour.”

“It was my pleasure.” His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat. “Has she been to Vauxhall Gardens?”

Eve shook her head. “But that is a marvelous idea. I always loved dining outdoors and the orchestra. I haven’t been in ages, not since—”

A becoming blush gave color to her cheeks and her freckles nearly disappeared. Not since their courtship two years earlier when Ben had taken her and stolen a kiss on one of the winding paths? That was the first time he’d said he loved her.

“I, too, have fond memories of the gardens,” he murmured. Her blush deepened to a dark rose color, and she changed the subject.

“Did Amelia relay my thanks for the flowers?” she asked.

“She did. I hope it was acceptable to send them with my sister-in-law.” Ben had felt awful about the daisies too, and he’d tried to erase the mistake with a dozen pink peonies and best wishes for a speedy recovery. Since he couldn’t send flowers to a lady he wasn’t allowed to court, he had requested Amelia’s assistance in delivering them.

“It was a lovely gesture, but unnecessary,” Eve said. “My injury was nothing serious, but the flowers lifted my spirits. Peonies have always been my favorite.”

“I remembered.”

She drew to a stop; a small crease appeared between her brows. “How is it we have been apart for two years and you recall my favorite flower, but Sir Jonathan—” She shook her head. “No, this is not an appropriate topic for conversation.”

When she tried to walk away, Ben caught her hand. “Evie,” he said softly. “You may talk to me.” At one time, she had shared everything with him—her doubts, her dreams, her family secrets. He had shared everything with her as well. She was the only person he’d ever talked to about Charlotte’s accident.

She worked her hand free and crossed her arms. “But I shouldn’t. It is not proper to air dirty laundry in public.”

He gestured to the empty room. “There is no one around to eavesdrop. If you need someone to listen… Once, we were friends too, were we not?”

“We were.” Her lips turned down. “But we were also more, which makes it wrong that I should turn to you.” Her protest sounded weak.

He suspected she wanted to confide in him, but pressing the issue would send her running again. He waited patiently while she wrestled with whether she could allow him to become her confidant again. She pressed her lips tightly together as if struggling to contain her words. Eventually, she lost the battle.

“Promise you will not assign this more meaning than it has. I am marrying Sir Jonathan. I have given my word; a contract exists between us. My course has been set.”

“I know.” He cleared his throat. “I promise to assign no unintended meaning to anything you confide in me.”

“All right.” She brushed a wisp of hair from her forehead, her gaze wary. “Lately I have begun to wonder how well I really know my betrothed, or how well he knows me.”

“What do you mean?”

“
He
doesn’t know my favorite flower, or what color I prefer, or even how I take my tea. And yet I suspect you do.”

Ben smiled. “Emerald. Cream, no sugar.”

Eve nodded, a soft glow emanating from her dark brown eyes. “I do not hold Sir Jonathan at fault. I do not know much about him either, other than he is uncommonly preoccupied with drums, and Athena lately. Oh, and his favorite ice, but I have a ten-year-old to thank for that information. He doesn’t offer much without prompting.” Her chuckle had a self-deprecating quality to it, and a pink blush dusted her cheeks. “I sound silly, don’t I?”

“I’ve never thought you were silly, Evie.” If that was all she truly knew about her betrothed, it wasn’t much.

She threaded her fingers together and pressed her hands against her chest as if praying. “I realize how Sir Jonathan likes his steak or the title of his favorite book seem trivial, things I could discover once we are wed. Still, I cannot help wondering if we are walking down the aisle too soon. We don’t know the smallest details about each other, which makes me worry there could be bigger, more important facts we don’t know either.”

Ben couldn’t imagine Hackberry had any secrets to warrant her concern, and yet he didn’t want to dismiss her outright, especially when she seemed to need a friend’s ear. “What has he done to make you doubt him?”

Her head snapped up; her lips parted. “I-I never said I doubted him.”

True, not with words, but she didn’t have to say it aloud. The way she picked at her gloves and averted her gaze when she spoke of Hackberry revealed more than she realized. Ben held his tongue while she seemed to be sorting through her thoughts.

Her tongue darted over her lips and she looked away again. “I do not doubt
him
. I doubt myself and my judgment.”

Because of what Ben had done. She didn’t need to point a finger for him to know her reservations stemmed from his betrayal. “You have no reason to doubt yourself.”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but I think I might have been blind to his faults until recently. He can be so thoughtless at times, and woolly-headed and…and something else I cannot name. For instance, a man was following us earlier, and Sir Jonathan was oblivious. When I alerted him, he spun in circles—not noticing a thing—knocked me into Alice and then tripped a soldier, a
large
one. He nearly wound up in a fight, and I thought he would be killed, but the soldier seemed frightened. I saw a different side to Sir Jonathan. Just for a moment, but—”

“Wait.” Ben shook his head to clear his confusion. “Someone followed you to the museum?”

“I’m not completely certain he was following us, but he ran away when I pointed him out.”

“What did Hackberry say? Did he know the man?”

She wrinkled her nose. “That is what I was trying to tell you. He never saw him, because he was too busy bumping into me and instigating a fight.”

“But you saw the man. Can you describe him?”

“I only had a brief view, but there was nothing remarkable about him. Light brown hair, skin tanned from the sun, I imagine. And his coat was a dull gray.”

God’s blood!
She was describing Mr. Armstrong. The investigator had already been paid for his services. Why would he continue to follow Hackberry? Ben schooled his features so Eve couldn’t detect his irritation, or culpability in the afternoon’s events. “You said Hackberry nearly came to blows with a soldier on the walkway. How did that come about?”

Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “Good heavens, it was the most impressive display of clumsiness I’ve ever seen. He was fumbling about, his cane swinging this way and that.” She linked arms with Ben and relayed the events in a flurry of whispers as they trailed after their tour group, her lively recitation making him laugh.

Eve hated to admit it, but she wasn’t exactly upset when Jonathan invited Ben to join them at Gunter’s after the lecture. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she was pleased—that felt disloyal to Jonathan—but she would be lying if she denied enjoying Ben’s companionship at the museum.

Unlike anyone else, he had a way of making her feel interesting and significant. He would lean toward her and look into her eyes any time she spoke, as if missing a single word would be reprehensible to him. And he asked questions—relevant ones—that showed he was truly listening.

At the museum, when she admitted to having misgivings about the swiftness with which she and Jonathan were marrying, Ben hadn’t dismissed her concerns. And yet he hadn’t used her doubts to his advantage either.

Of course, she didn’t know what he wanted from her precisely. He claimed a desire to create a life with her, to have children and make a home together, but she had heard those same words two years ago. She might forgive easier than she should, but she didn’t have a faulty memory.

She slanted a glance over her shoulder at Ben walking with Alice. Her maid hadn’t stopped talking since they left the museum, but if Ben found her chatter unpleasant, one would never know from his attentiveness to her. Eve smiled as she returned her attention to the walkway.

“The Elgin Marbles were a sight,” Alice said. “What do you suppose happened to the heads of the sculptures, Mr. Hillary?”

“That’s a marvelous question. Perhaps they are shoved into the corner of an old attic, stored in a trunk.”

“Mercy! I wouldn’t want to be the one to find them. Can you imagine looking for your grandmother’s wedding gown and discovering a trunk of heads staring up at you?”

“
I
can’t imagine looking for my grandmother’s wedding gown,” Ben drawled.

Eve chuckled and noted Jonathan didn’t join in. When he quickly glanced at her, his jaw was tight. Her merriment died away. His sudden change in mood caught her by surprise. He had been in good spirits when they left the museum, laughing and teasing with them. He had even commented on being pleased their party excused themselves early from the second lecture so Alice could enjoy the exhibits.

But now… She could feel the tension rolling off him, and the air around him crackled. His gaze darted across the street and narrowed. For a moment, she was afraid they were being followed again, but she couldn’t see any sign of the man from earlier. In fact, everything appeared rather ordinary in Berkley Square with carriages clogging the street and people milling about in the park, but Jonathan’s stiff posture made her uneasy.

“Something is wrong,” she whispered. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“It is the man again, isn’t it? He is following us. Where? Behind us?” She swung around, looking for the man in the gray coat. “Mr. Hillary, we require your assist—”

“Julius Caesar!” Jonathan’s sharp bark made her jump, and she dropped his arm. He drew to a halt, blinking at her. “Er… Sorry. I just recalled something I forgot to do before I left home this afternoon.”

Ben clapped him on the shoulder, his smile looking a bit strained. “Is there a problem, Hackberry?”

“No problem.” Jonathan removed his hat and tried to smooth down his wayward curls, but the move left his hair tousled instead. “Well, perhaps a slight one. I—I am afraid I am a bit lost. Does anyone know the way to the tea shop?”

“Oh, law,” Alice mumbled under her breath.

Heat flooded Eve’s face. When she had accepted Jonathan’s proposal, she knew he could be absentminded. Additionally, she had argued he was brilliant and interesting when others declared him too eccentric. Even his sense of direction being akin to that of a lemming’s came as no surprise, but
this
—and every odd behavior he had shown today—left her speechless.

Ben raised his brows as if asking whether Eve wanted to tell Jonathan where they were or leave it to him. She supposed it would be best coming from her. Coughing delicately into her fist first, she pointedly flicked her gaze to the building across the street.

Jonathan swung his head to look over his shoulder. “Oh.”

Ben offered his arm to Eve. “Shall we?” She didn’t hesitate in accepting his escort, preferring to keep Jonathan at a distance, and very ashamed to admit it.

Jonathan seemed untroubled by Ben stepping into his place and assisted Eve’s maid across the street. “What is your favorite ice cream, Alice?”

Alice shrugged. “I never had a dish before.”

“Then I will surprise you,” Jonathan said, his affable smile returning. “It appears crowded inside, Miss Thorne. Perhaps we should dine in the park. Would you like to find a shady spot while Mr. Hillary and I place our orders?”

Eve craned her neck to see through the shop window. As usual, every table was filled, and there was barely any room to stand. “That sounds lovely.”

“We will not be long.”

As soon as she and Alice crossed the street and couldn’t be overheard, her maid clucked her tongue.

“He is likely tired,” Eve said with a sigh. “I imagine he burned the midnight oil to prepare for today’s lecture.”

Alice shrugged, jostling her heavy bosom. “Perhaps.”

Eve bit her bottom lip as a horrible possibility occurred to her. What if there was no explanation for his behavior today? Her stomach lurched. What if this was simply the real Sir Jonathan Hackberry he was allowing her to see?

* * *

Ben regarded Hackberry as they waited on the walkway for the waiter to reach them. “What was that little act? You got lost?” Ben scoffed. “No one is that harebrained.”

Hackberry scowled. “I had to think of something,” he hissed. “Besides, my little act should help settle the matter a little faster. At this rate, Miss Thorne and I will be welcoming our firstborn before she begs off.”

A waiter exited the shop with a tray and hurried across the street.

Ben’s smile likely resembled an animal baring his teeth. “Touch her and you’ll be meeting Julius Caesar personally.” His words were uttered under his breath for Hackberry’s ears only.

Hackberry arched an eyebrow. “It’s a wonder we have become friends with all the threats you make against me. I suppose I have low standards when it comes to friendship.”

“As do I.” Ben’s fists relaxed at his sides, as he recalled they were on the same side, even if he didn’t approve of Hackberry’s tactics. Nevertheless, there were worse ways the man could discourage Eve. “I guess our low standards make us perfect for one another.”

“You aren’t going to ask me to dance again, are you?”

Ben didn’t have a chance to offer a retort, since it was their turn to place their orders. Hackberry requested a dish of pineapple, nothing for himself, then turned to Ben. “What flavor does Miss Thorne like?”

“Vanilla.”

“Should I order lavender then?”

Ben shooed him away. “Join the women. I will take care of it.” After placing a request for two more dishes of ice cream to be brought to the park, he joined his party.

Eve offered a welcoming smile when she spotted him entering the grove of trees. Stray afternoon sunlight filtered through the lush branches of a maple and created a halo effect around her. Her thick lashes caught the light, making the ends wispy, and her brown eyes glimmered.

A knot formed in his throat. Did she realize how beautiful she was, or how much he’d missed her? Many nights in Delhi he had lain in bed with the image of her in his mind, looking just like this. Sometimes he would talk to her, imagining they had a connection that allowed her to hear his thoughts.

Loneliness wrecked a man’s sanity.

Her smile slipped and the tip of her tongue darted across her full lips, but she didn’t look away.

“Excellent. You are back,” Hackberry said, reminding Ben that he and Eve were not alone. “I must go. Could you see Miss Thorne home?”

A soft squeak came from Eve’s direction. Ben wasn’t sure if it was a protest or simply an expression of surprise, but he didn’t like being caught off guard any more than she did.

Eve’s gaze had dropped to the ground, and she was picking at her glove again. Her embarrassment was like a thorn lodged in Ben’s heart. If this was Hackberry’s plan for driving her away, he should have first discussed it with Ben. Humiliating her was not part of their agreement.

Hackberry sighed, his shoulders drooping as the air left him. “Remember that thing I mentioned forgetting earlier, Miss Thorne? I really should see to it. I am sorry.”

“Can it not wait until you’ve seen Miss Thorne home?” Ben asked.

“No, it cannot.” Hackberry’s jaw hardened, the muscles prominent and taut as he met Ben’s glower without a trace of apprehension. “I’ll trust you to see the lady home safely.”

Suddenly, Ben saw the difference Eve had mentioned earlier. Hackberry was behaving in a damned strange manner. An unforgivably
rude
manner.

Ben squared off with Hackberry, not willing to ignore the slight on Eve. “I would be honored to provide escort for Miss Thorne,” he bit out, “but perhaps she would prefer the company of her
betrothed
.”

Eve cleared her throat, and they both turned toward her. A becoming blush added warmth to her normally pale complexion. “If Sir Jonathan has business requiring his attention, perhaps it is best he see to it. I do not wish to keep him from important matters.”

Ben ground his teeth together. What was more important than seeing to Eve? He inclined his head toward her. “If you have no objection, I would be pleased to spend more time in your company.”

“I have no objection.”

Despite Hackberry’s earlier rush to leave, he stayed until the waiter delivered their dishes of ice cream.

Eve accepted hers with a huge smile. “Did you order vanilla for me?”

“Hillary did. I failed to ask what flavor you liked.”

“Oh.” Her gaze cut to Ben as she took her first bite. Closing her eyes, she moaned with pleasure. “Pure heaven, Mr. Hillary. Thank you.”

Her reaction was innocent but arousing as hell. Ben shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth and tried to think of anything but the tiny drop of vanilla lingering on her bottom lip. Or how he wanted to lick away the sweetness for her. She upset his good intentions, however, when she stroked her tongue over her lips, leaving them moist. Ben suppressed his own groan of pleasure and looked away before he embarrassed himself.

Hackberry cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing on Ben for a moment. “Well, I must be off.” He took Eve’s hand and placed a kiss on her glove. “Until tomorrow evening, Miss Thorne.”

“Until tomorrow, sir.”

Hackberry looked back over his shoulder twice as he took his leave. When he disappeared into the crowd, Ben turned his attention back to Eve. “What do you have on your schedule tomorrow?”

“Lady Eldridge and Sir Jonathan are dining at Thorne Place tomorrow evening. Helena thought it prudent to entertain the countess before refusing her offer to host a wedding breakfast in my and Sir Jonathan’s honor. Helena said her cousin can be quite insistent, but Sebastian and his wife support our decision to forgo another celebration.”

“Hmm.” Ben’s ice cream lost its flavor, and he set down his spoon. He didn’t want to think of Eve becoming another man’s wife, and yet denying the truth didn’t change anything. “Only nine more days until the momentous occasion.”

“Yes, nine days.” She focused intensely on her ice cream as she pushed it around with her spoon. “It feels as if time is rushing by.”

For him too. In nine short days, he could lose her forever, but until she signed her name in the parish registry, he still had a chance.

When her ice cream resembled milky soup, Eve looked up with a rueful smile. “I’ve had enough. Once Alice is finished, we should probably find a hack to carry us home.”

Alice’s spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl as she pursued every drop of her treat. After her last bite, she sighed in satisfaction, pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, and made a show of dabbing the corners of her mouth. “It has been a memorable afternoon thus far. I hate to see it end. Would it be acceptable if we walked back to Thorne Place, miss?”

Eve’s eyes widened. “You wish to walk? It is a good distance.”

“I will let you know if I tire, miss. Then Mr. Hillary can hail a hack for us.” Her maid took the dish from Eve, stacked it in hers, then held her hand out for Ben’s. “I will return these to the waiter and we may go.”

Ben could have hugged the older woman. “It appears you must be burdened with my companionship a little longer, Miss Thorne.”

Her smile when she took his arm and looked up at him through her lashes made his pulse quicken. “You are not too difficult to bear, Mr. Hillary. I will persevere.”