More Than a Stranger: A Sealed With a Kiss Novel (7 page)

“Duly noted,” Richard said, smiling in triumph. “Now then, give your brother a hug and get back to your tutors before you get in trouble.”

Benedict waited as Richard escorted his sister to the door. Despite the skirmish between them, there didn’t appear to be any hard feelings whatsoever. If it had been his own brother locked in a battle of wills, Benedict had no doubt things would have ended much worse. He clenched his jaw at the thought, shoving Henry as far from his mind as possible. He didn’t want to think about the bastard just yet, not with Richard in the room.

When the door shut, Benedict rose and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, that does make a bit of a muddle of things. Do you think she can keep her tongue behind her teeth?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. She is quite a bit older than she was when she tattled to our parents about that little midnight ride to the Rose and Thorn a few summers back.”

“Great, now I feel much better.”

Richard laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. “She wants those paints far too much to chance it. Now, let’s speak no more on the matter. No amount of bribery could keep Jocelyn or Carolyn quiet if they discovered what was afoot.”

Bloody hell. Things just kept getting better and better. “Perhaps I should take my leave. This is becoming far too complicated.” Even as Benedict said it, a voice deep within him protested. He had only just laid eyes on Evie—how could he possibly up and walk away so soon? In the midst of all the rotten things he was mired in, could he not have a day or two to soak in Evie’s presence? Then store it up like wheat for the winter?

Richard waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no. You are not leaving me now. Besides, this is the most fun I’ve had in ages. Now then, I’m anxious to get my hands on some of Cook’s delectable food. Shall we?”

Was it possible to feel relief and dread at once? “Very well. Let me just get my boots.”

As he tugged them back on, Benedict steeled himself against the unease winding through his veins like quicksilver. Though he fairly ached with the desire to see Evie again, God help him if he found himself the target of her wrath.

Once his boots were in place, he stood and nodded toward the door. “Lead the way.”

* * *

“Is he handsome?”

Evie, who had been the first to arrive in the drawing room for tea, turned from the window and raised an eyebrow at her youngest sister, Carolyn, whose large blue eyes were wide with curiosity.

“I daresay you can see for yourself in a few minutes.” Releasing the drape, Evie walked around the sofa, smoothing the voluminous skirts of her habit as she sat. She hadn’t had enough time to change, but after scrutinizing the sky, she wondered if she might still have the opportunity to ride after all. Just a quick one, of course—she wouldn’t be out past sunset.

Carolyn’s hopeful expression fell, and she plopped on the sofa opposite Evie, the blond sausage curls framing her face bouncing on impact. Sitting beside her twin on the sofa, Jocelyn wrinkled her nose. “That must mean he is not.”

“Jocelyn,” Beatrice exclaimed, scowling as she tucked her feet beneath her, “Evie meant no such thing.” She was only a year older, but she nevertheless seemed to think herself vastly more mature, which continually irked her younger sisters.

Today was no exception. Jocelyn scowled right back. “How would you know? He could be some sort of ogre for all we know.”

Evie grinned, picturing the handsome stranger, with his chocolate eyes and deliciously broad shoulders. An ogre he was not. “I meant exactly what I said. He shall be down any minute, and I expect you to mind your manners.”

“Yes, please.” Mama breezed into the room, her burnished orange gown whispering briskly as she walked. “I would very much appreciate it if you would all be on your best behavior.” She paused behind the twins to kiss their cheeks before moving on to inspect the tea tray.

“Of course, Mama. I only wish we had been given a bit of warning. I would have chosen my pink and white muslin instead of this old thing.” Jocelyn plucked unhappily at her perfectly lovely gown, its only sin being that it boasted green trim instead of pink.

Satisfied that the tray was in order, Mama took a seat beside Evie. “I certainly would have appreciated a bit of advance notice myself, poppet, but such is the mind of a man. I’m merely happy he came now and not a week from now. We would have already been halfway to London by then, and I would have been sorely disappointed to miss him.”

Evie blanched at her mother’s mention of London. How on earth would she find the opportunity to speak to her mother privately with Richard and his guest causing so much excitement? Evie knew she couldn’t wait much longer, or the opportunity would pass. In the meantime, she must behave absolutely above reproach. She discreetly straightened her shoulders and softened her smile.

“Ah, here they are; my dear family.”

At Richard’s greeting, the girls jumped up to greet him, giggling as he hugged all three of them at once. Mama and Evie rose as well, and a moment later Papa entered the room.

Evie stood back a little as the girls talked animatedly with Richard, their voices rising an octave or two to be heard over each other. Through the cacophony, Evie suddenly felt compelled to look to the doorway. Mr. Benedict stood just outside the drawing room, his eyes leveled directly at her. She sucked in a surprised breath, a tiny thrill racing across the back of her neck.

The moment their eyes met, he looked away, seeking out Richard instead. As he stepped into the room, the girls stopped talking at once, leaving a vacuum of silence that seemed to echo off the rose-colored wallpaper.

Jocelyn and Carolyn shared identical looks of wonder, with their eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Beatrice bit her lip and blushed before looking down to her hands. Struck anew by his chiseled features and wide shoulders, Evie knew all too well what her younger sisters must have been thinking. Mr. Benedict shifted under the sudden scrutiny, looking uncomfortable. Richard took it all in stride, extending a hand to his friend. “Mr. Benedict, come meet my family.”

As her brother made the introductions, Evie stood to the side and observed their guest. He greeted each member of her family graciously, if a bit reservedly. Though his eyes never strayed to hers again, she wondered if he could possibly be as aware of her as she was of him.

Pasting a generic smile on her face, she didn’t hear a word of the conversation; instead, she let her eyes follow the strong line of his shoulders down his broad chest all the way to his slim waist. She looked away before her eyes could dip lower and barely resisted the urge to fan her cheeks.

“Evie?”

Her head snapped up to see her mother looking at her strangely. “Yes?”

“I said would you like to pour the tea?”

Drat, how had she missed the question? She smiled brightly at Mama. “Of course.” Cringing, Evie scurried to the tea tray. She really needed to get herself together. She picked up the dainty porcelain pot and poured the first cup, a ribbon of fragrant steam curling pleasantly before her nose and calming her nerves a bit. She looked askance at Mr. Benedict. “How do you take your tea, sir?”

He cocked his head slightly to the side as if she had asked him if he wanted snails with his tea. After the slightest hesitation, he said, “Just a splash of milk, please.”

Her eyebrows drew together briefly before she smoothed her expression. Honestly, what had she said to earn that particular look? She was beginning to think the man was a little odd.

She nodded nonetheless and returned her attention to the tea while Richard regaled her family with an overly dramatic tale about the inn they had stayed in the previous night. Setting down the creamer, Evie straightened and stepped forward to offer Mr. Benedict the tea.

He accepted with another one of those almost nonexistent smiles. Clearly social niceties were not this man’s forte. She started to turn back to the tea when the lightest touch of his fingers on her bare wrist stopped her cold. “Lady Evelyn?”

Though he immediately withdrew his hand, she felt as though hot wax had been dripped on her skin, fierce but strangely pleasurable all at once. “Yes?” Her voice sounded breathy to her own ears, and she drew a steadying breath. Thank heavens her family was preoccupied with the story.

“How do you take
your
tea?” He looked to her with genuine interest, and she belatedly realized she was probably giving him the same odd look he had given her moments ago.

“Um, one lump of sugar, no milk.”

He nodded as if it were the most normal conversation in the world and moved forward to take a seat. What on earth? Evie gave her head a little shake and went back to her hostess duties. As she poured and distributed the tea, she couldn’t seem to stop herself from sneaking glances in Mr. Benedict’s direction, watching his expressions as he conversed with the others. Never once did he give them one of those odd looks or ask them strange questions.

As Evie passed the last cup of tea to Carolyn and sat back on the stuffy antique sofa, Mama turned to Mr. Benedict and smiled. “I certainly hope you don’t mind the informal nature of our little gathering. We tend to be very relaxed when we are here at the Hall.”

He glanced around the bright and spacious drawing room. “Not at all, my lady. And I must say, your home is lovely. I can see why you don’t often find yourselves in the city with such a place as this available to you.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Benedict.” Mama flushed with pleasure. She had extensively refurbished much of the house over the years, and Evie knew he could not have given her mother a better compliment. “Do tell us more about yourself. I know where you are headed, but from where do you hail?”

“Bath,” Richard interjected around a mouthful of cucumber sandwich. “He hails from Bath.”

Mr. Benedict froze, his teacup halfway to the table, for a fraction of a second. Setting the cup down, he nodded. “Yes—Bath, my lady.” He pressed a napkin to his lips, his eyes flitting to Richard before continuing. “Since leaving for university, however, I very rarely find myself outside the school’s grounds. Indeed, it seems I am to go directly from being educated to being the educator, as it were, and will again find myself sequestered within a new school’s walls.”

“Bath, you say?” Every eye turned in Evie’s direction. Drat, had she just said that aloud?

She had been thinking Richard didn’t have any good friends in Bath, which was why he hadn’t sampled that particular city’s offerings. She had to say something now, lest she look like a dimwit. She licked her lips and forced a smile. “How interesting. I myself have never been. As my mother has already pointed out, our family spends most of our time here at the Hall, but I hear the Roman Baths are quite the phenomenon. It is said the waters there are miraculously restorative. Tell me, do you take the waters when you do find yourself in the area, Mr. Benedict?”

Inwardly, she winced. Well, that didn’t sound inane at all.

“Yes, they are quite the thing. However, as I have returned so infrequently, I have not indulged in that particular offering of the city.”

Evie frowned. He just did it again—giving her a strange, unreadable look. He had been perfectly pleasant with her parents. When normally she might have let the topic drop, she tilted her head as if very interested in what he had to say. “Really? I would have expected a resident to have experienced so fine a local offering.”

He reached out for the tea again, breaking eye contact. “Ancient history is not really my forte, I suppose.”

“But the beauty of the baths lies in their being the past come to life, so to speak.”

His eyes flickered up to meet hers. “Sometimes the past is better left behind, I think.” The intensity was back, if only for a moment. She shivered, not sure what to make of him. Then he smiled, though it did not seem to reach his eyes. “Are you interested in ancient peoples, then, Lady Evelyn?”

It was hard to think straight with the full force of his gaze leveled at her. She hadn’t realized his left cheek dimpled when he smiled. “Um, yes, I find them to be quite fascinating. Sadly, I often find them to be more interesting than people in the present.”

Immediately realizing the possible interpretation of the statement, she rushed to clarify. “Not
present
present people, er, company, of course. I was speaking in general terms. Oh dear, I do apologize if I have just now managed to insult the entirety of the British Empire,” she finished weakly. Had she really said that? Cringing, Evie bit into a chocolate biscuit to keep from making any further asinine comments.

Mr. Benedict raised an eyebrow but nodded nonetheless, as if she had actually made some amount of sense. She swallowed and smiled faintly back, then turned to her mother. “Shall I ring for more tea?”

Mama looked to her with interest, nodding slowly, and Evie valiantly suppressed a blush as she rose and made her way to the bellpull. After all her warnings to Richard, she was the one earning her mother’s famous raised eyebrow.

Evie sighed. All she needed to do was act like a normal human being between now and when her family departed. Really, was that too much to ask of herself? Her gaze slid to Mr. Benedict, now engrossed in a conversation with her father. What was it about him that so intrigued her, anyhow? No one had ever captured her attention quite so thoroughly—at least not in person.

She pressed her lips together. As much as she was curious about the man, she refused to make a fool of herself. What she needed was a ride. Being cooped up in the house with Mama had clearly muddled her brain, and a jaunt across the grounds would be just the thing. Perhaps then her heart wouldn’t race every time she made eye contact with the enigmatic stranger.

As if on cue, he looked up, his eyes immediately finding hers. She drew in a quick breath, light-headed from the sudden pounding of her heart.

Oh heavens, she was in trouble.

Chapter Five

If Grandmama ever receives a letter from you, the terms of our agreement shall become null and void. You’d best lock your doors, lest I find you alone and dole out a proper punishment for such meddling.