Page 9 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
He hid a smile. “Reckless, not foolish. There’s a difference.”
“Seeing both lead to certain disaster, I won’t argue.”
“Giving up the game already, my lady?”
“I can’t see anything worth fighting for,” she said with a sniff worthy of his grandmother, the late duchess, someone he’d liked a good deal better than he’d liked his sermonizing grandfather.
Evesham had a feeling that Grandmamma would have approved of Juliet, too. She’d appreciated an outspoken female. She’d completely cowed his mother, a bloodless little wraith who had faded away with a wasting illness when he was eight. But then his mother had never recovered from losing her husband to tetanus soon after Evesham was born.
“I have hidden qualities,” he said, enjoying the cut and thrust.
He’d spent the last days cursing his inconvenient and rather inexplicable loss at cards. He didn’t feel like that anymore. Right now, there was nowhere else that he’d rather be.
Juliet prickled just like the rose that he’d likened her to earlier. But then, he already knew that this bloom was beyond compare. “You’ve got that right, at least.”
Shocked at her capitulation, he regarded her open-mouthed. “You don’t think I’m a total villain?”
When another smile of pure wickedness curled her lips, a jolt of arousal slammed through him as powerful as a kick from a horse. Along with a warning that this was a formidable woman and he needed to watch his step.
“I do indeed think that. Just as I’m convinced that your qualities – if any – are very well hidden.”
Not at all insulted, he burst into laughter. She was a champion. His knowledge of respectable females was limited. It turned out that he’d been missing out.
“Ahem.”
At the sound of Portdown clearing his throat, Evesham sobered and reluctantly withdrew his attention from Juliet. It took an almighty effort. Desire pumped through him. Desire for the last woman that he’d ever imagined wanting. The last woman he should want.
Because a world of frustration loomed ahead. He couldn’t lure Lady Juliet into an affair. Even for a wrong ’un like him, that was a step too far. Not to mention that he’d accepted her father’s hospitality. Some rules even the most dissolute gentleman didn’t break.
About the best that he could hope for was a kiss or two to stop that smart mouth. And kissing her wasn’t likely to ease his hunger, only feed it. Although right now, she looked more likely to bite him than kiss him.
“Perhaps I should have cast you two as Beatrice and Benedick, rather than Romeo and Juliet,” Portdown said.
“I’m getting to know my leading lady,” Evesham said.
Once more, Portdown wasn’t listening. “All jokes aside, I could fit in a scene fromMuch Ado.It might add a nice edge of lightness to—”
Juliet and Evesham spoke in unison. “No!”
“If you insist.” Portdown looked disappointed. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“We won’t.” Once again, Juliet’s determination reminded Evesham of his daunting grandmamma.
“I’d like you two to go through your lines while I work with Portia.”
“I told you not to cast me as Ophelia,” Portia said with a hint of a whine. “Dying of unrequited love is just too feeble for words. Anyway, if I fell into a brook, I could get myself out.”
Portdown looked so offended at this disrespectful attitude to Shakespeare that Evesham had to swallow a laugh, which made him choke.
As he caught his breath, Portdown looked worried. “Don’t tell me you’re coming down with a chill. That would be too bad, just when I need you to be in good voice.”
“Perhaps he should rest his voice back at the house, while I check how the maids are going with costumes,” Juliet said with sudden cheerfulness.
Evesham shot her a knowing look and made sure his voice emerged steady and clear. “Only a week until the performance, Lady Juliet. No time to waste.”
“Very well.” He saw that she hadn’t expected to prevail. She pointed halfway up the terraced slope. “Shall we, Your Grace?”
It wasn’t anything like the privacy he craved, especially now that some rustics started hammering benches together from the lumber near the stage. But it was far enough away for Evesham to manage a quiet conversation.
