Tempting His Mistress (17 page)

She sat for a moment, kneeling between his legs, and he thrust his fingers into her hair, loosened the curls. Lilly stared up at him and he saw the fight inside her—the one driven by her burning curiosity and frustrating need to know everything. But she didn’t say a word.

Evan’s eyebrows lifted when, instead, she lowered her head between his legs and took him in her mouth. His hips jerked of their own accord at the heavenly feel of all that moist warmth. He had to guide her with his hands but her inexperienced tongue proved to be wonderfully exciting.

He longed to pull out and make proper love to her, but the weakness inside him prevented him from doing so. It didn’t take him long before he spilled. Drawing her head away, his blinding orgasm seared through his skull while she continued to milk him lovingly with her hand.

Unable to think of any way to apologise for either oversights in behaviour—his earlier temper and his selfishness now—he drew her to her feet, kissed her firmly and made her climb into bed while he cleaned up.

Naked, he crawled into bed next to her. She wrapped her body around his back and Evan gritted his teeth. What had happened to the fiery vixen he knew? Why had she not scolded him and demanded an apology from him? He had to admit, he enjoyed this side of Lilly. It was the one he had seen briefly when she had taken care of his brother and the one he had occasional flashes of before Henry joined them. When she drew he saw her face soften and her voice became silenced.

He enjoyed both sides, he realised. Maybe more than enjoyed. Inwardly, he groaned. Outwardly, he relished her comforting little body and felt his completion taking its effect as his eyes grew heavy. Lilly murmured something, but he couldn’t be sure what. Something reassuring, he suspected. What a fool he was to be needing reassurance from a woman when it should be him looking after her. Nonetheless, he found his inner turmoil calmed by her and managed to fall into a deep sleep.

The old Evan was back. Lilly didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed. After his frightening fit of temper yesterday, she had found the vulnerable Evan endearing. He had brokered no arguments with her and had let her take the lead—something she enjoyed very much. There were few men who submitted to a woman so easily.

Now, however, he was back to his usual argumentative, disagreeable self. And Lilly could not help but grin as he snorted his derision over a news article.

“What displeases you this morning, Evan?” she asked as she finished her tea and wiped her fingers on a napkin.

He lowered the paper, eyed her coolly. “They have opened a new college for women in Cambridge.”

“And this offends you?”

“This one does.”

Lilly gripped the napkin and scowled. “Why should the education of women aggravate you so? Perhaps you wish them to all remain in ignorance so they will forever be at the mercy of men?”

“Indeed, you mistake me, Lilly—”

“You believe men have the sole right to be lord and master of the world and that women are mere chattels?”

He leaned forward and laid down the paper. “If you could give me a moment to explain my position, perhaps you would not judge me so harshly. Women suffragettes would do well to occasionally listen to what men folk have to say,” he remarked. “We are not all the ignorant beasts you paint us to be.”

“I never suggested you are ignorant,” she protested. “But you have been brought up in a world dominated by men. How can you possibly understand a woman’s plight?”

“It is true I can never fully understand what women must deal with, but I am an educated man, am I not? I credit myself with not being wholly ignorant.”

“Yet you protest equal education for women?”

Evan let slip a twisted smile. “Ah, there you fall upon the key point.
Equal
education. This new college makes allowances for women. They can study part time and the college have tailored their curriculum to women.”

Realisation dawned upon her. He protested the manner of education, not the actual practice of educating women. “But you expressed disgust at these colleges not so long ago when we first met,” she reminded him.

“Because I find it a gross waste of time to send women to college when they still cannot gain an equal qualification to men. There are some institutes, I shall admit, that have attempted to run as a men’s college would, but most fall short. I fear should we accept these places of education for women, we shall become idle and no more progress will be made. We shall have done our part and that will be that.”

Lilly snapped shut her open jaw. She never would have believed a man of such old family and strict values would support progress for women. How wrong she had been. It seemed he not only supported a move forward for women but expressed insightful ideas. She did not agree—yes, these colleges were lacking but they were welcome progress—however to hear him speak so warmed her heart.

“I had no idea you felt this way.”

“Perhaps then, you should consider not jumping to conclusions, my dear Lilly. You do have a terrible habit of doing so and you are quite the fearsome creature once you get going.”

She couldn’t help but laugh and he joined in, the sound sending tingles through her. “You make me sound like some hideous beast.”

“Far from it.” He pressed his hands to the paper and leant in to lock his gaze onto hers. “I find you quite riveting when you are fired up about something. Passion lights your eyes, your cheeks become flushed. I shall confess, seeing you angry is quite enjoyable.”

Lilly bit back some exclamation about his temper, fearful of destroying the moment. Instead, she feigned annoyance. “I am not sure I like that you find my temper enjoyable. Am I to believe you rile me on purpose, just so you can find some pleasure in my aggravation?”

“No. Indeed, I rarely need to rile you on purpose. You’re quite capable of doing that yourself.”

With a huff, she dropped her napkin but couldn’t resist a smile. “My lord, you make me sound quite disagreeable.”

“You are, my dear Miss Claremont,” he confirmed. “You really are.” Evan lifted his paper and eyed her over the top of it. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Rolling her eyes at his teasing, Lilly excused herself from breakfast and retreated to the drawing room to allow him some peace and quiet with the morning paper. She had already asked Mrs Hargreaves to have her sketch pad and pencils waiting for her and she was determined to get back into a comfortable routine. Hopefully they might be able to forget Evan’s outburst or perhaps he might confide in her eventually. It frustrated her to no end, not knowing what had aggravated him so but with the mood he was in yesterday, there had been little point in pressing the matter. In truth, she feared he was greatly upset and didn’t wish to distress him further. It seemed she cared a great deal for the man’s welfare. Too much perhaps.

She sat by the window and lifted her pad but something caught her eye in the fireplace. Lilly lowered the pad to the table and stood. Glancing around, she edged over to the empty black grate and sure enough, the letter Evan had received remained. With no need for a fire during the warmer weather, the fireplace had not been cleaned.

Stealing another glance around, she snuck back to her chair and peeled open the crumpled paper with trembling hands. Lilly noted the name at the bottom—a Mr Higgins. She had never met him but Anne had said the missive had come from him and Lilly knew him to be Evan’s butler in the London house. The lines in the paper made some of the words illegible and Mr Higgins’s hand was not easily read, but it spoke of a woman—a Lady Eleanor Ashby.

She stiffened and read on, a hand coming to her mouth when she grasped the content of the letter. This Lady Ashby was dead by the hand of her husband. How had this been allowed to happen? The poor woman. Her chin wobbled as she considered the fear the woman must have experienced. She might never have met her but Lilly could thoroughly sympathise for the sake of her own sex. Too many women were beaten by their husbands, but never normally to death.

No wonder Evan had been furious, but who was this woman to him? She didn’t know the name but then Lilly knew few of London society. That said, she was no relation to Evan as far as she knew. Was she a friend or something more? Maybe a lover?

She squashed the rising jealousy, guilty for feeling such an emotion when the woman had met such an awful end. Was this husband the reason he had been eyeing up his guns? All that had occurred certainly explained his vulnerability last night. She had never seen him so meek and malleable but grief must have eaten deep into him.

Glancing at the door between them, she chewed her lip. Evan seemed fine this morning. Back to his usual grumpy—albeit slightly teasing—self. Surely he would not do anything rash? Lilly vowed to keep a close eye on him from now on to ensure he took no foolish action.

The doorknob turned and she quickly slid the letter into her sketch pad. Evan entered, paused to view her. She offered a gentle smile and swallowed. His dark blue waistcoat and camel-coloured trousers made him so dashing, her chest constricted. She had not been able to fully appreciate it at the table but now he stood in front of her, it took all her willpower not to throw herself at him and beg him to take her.

“You are drawing today?”

“The weather is nice so I thought I would try to capture the view whilst I could.”

“If it stays pleasant, shall we take a stroll?”

Lilly could think of many more things she would rather do, but time away from the house might do him good. He always seemed to open up more when out of the confines of his role as lord and master. Maybe she could even find out about this Eleanor.

“That’s a fine idea, Evan. Perhaps Mrs Hargreaves can arrange a picnic?”

His lips tilted. “A picnic? I can’t remember the last time I had one.” He strolled over beside her and peered out of the window. One hand rested proprietarily on her shoulder and she bit back a sigh of contentment. Were it not for yesterday, she could feel quite happy with her situation.

Lilly chuckled. “You are a poor, deprived man, are you not, my lord?”

He glanced down at her. “I didn’t think so until I met you, Miss Claremont.” The softening in his gaze only lasted a moment—so short she almost missed it. Her heart flipped and settled when he removed his hand and strolled over to the mantelpiece. “I am off to London in two days,” he continued.

“So soon?” A heavy weight of dread settled in her stomach. Was this to do with the lady?

“I should like to make the most of our time together before I leave.” He gave her a wan smile. “I have set aside my work for the day and I am at your disposal.”

Clutching her sketchpad to her chest, she studied him and the heaviness in her belly increased. Why did he speak as though he might never see her again? He was going to do something foolish was he not? She had to talk him out of it without increasing the distance between them. And if she admitted to knowing about this Lady Ashby, he might close up or lose his temper again and she would be no better off.

“Is it business that takes you away? I thought you weren’t intending to return to London for a while yet.”

“It is always business with you, is it not? When will you understand that I don’t wish to share such details with you?”

Lilly felt her hackles rise and opened her mouth, intending to rebuke such claims, but he stepped over and took the pad from her hands to aid her to her feet. She found herself dwarfed by his height, the breadth of his shoulders, leaving her a little breathless. He tugged her into him, a hand to the small of her back and one clutching her other hand. Evan placed it to his shoulder as if leading her in a waltz but they did not move. Instead he lowered his lips to her ear. She quivered, feeling his hot breath caress her cheek.

“You, my dear Lilly, are for pleasure and enjoyment, not business.”

Perhaps she ought to have protested that description too. Any other time and she might have thought he was describing her no better than a whore but the softness to his tone and the way he held her belied those thoughts. Pride filled her that she could bring this man some enjoyment in life. He took little pleasure in anything else, yet he genuinely enjoyed her company. It was not much, but it was an achievement of sorts.

Evan swept feather light kisses up her cheek and to her lips. She near melted into him, her eyes fluttering closed. Then he kissed her closed eyes and the tip of her nose before holding her to him for several moments. He took an audible intake of breath and set her back.

“Right then, I shall speak with Mrs Hargreaves and you content yourself with sketching.”

“And what shall you be doing in the meantime?”

“Must you know everything?”

“I must.”

His deep brown gaze searched hers for a moment before he took a step back. The distance between them sent a ribbon of iciness dancing over her.

“I am to clean my pistols,” he declared, his expression daring her to challenge him.

“Oh, and for what purpose? Are you planning to shoot someone?”

“Not at all. But an Englishman should never leave anything to chance.”

Lilly sank into her chair and picked up her sketchbook as he left. She turned to face the window but the green, lush hills held no appeal anymore. She had strong suspicions Evan intended to murder a man.