Page 51 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
“Then you told me you were unsure about accepting the Earl,” Emily continued, “but I never thought it was because you loved the Marquess.”
Evangeline had other plans, ones that involved leaving her bedchamber in search of Zachary’s, but she needed to appease her sister. And truly shewassorry for having left Emily so in the dark when they had once promised to tell each other everything.
But there were certain things you could not confide in a younger sibling.
“I did not always love him,” she said slowly, a frown puckering between her brows. Emily perched on the end of the bed. “In fact, I don’t think I knew I did until the Earl proposed.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “Why, then, did you resolve to accept him?”
“I thought the Marquess would never offer me his hand. We had been at odds, he and I, and although I realized he was not the beast I once thought him, I thought my revelation came too late.”
“You merely wanted to protect our family,” Emily said, taking Evangeline’s hand, “and if he never once hinted at marriage—”
“Oh, not once,” Evangeline said, her voice wry. “Perhaps that was my own fear speaking—I had not, you know, intended on marrying for love.”
“I distinctly remember.”
“And I thought my affection so foolish considering everything I had said about him.” Evangeline paused. “I was embarrassed to think I may have fallen in love with the very man I swore to hate.”
Emily’s smile lit up her eyes, and Evangeline’s shoulders loosened at the sisterly affection she found there. “You are foolish indeed,” Emily said, “but only because you were embarrassed.”
“Youare in love with a perfectly reasonable man.Iam in love with a man who throws his friends into the lake.”
Emily giggled. “I suspect Lord Riffy provoked him.”
“It is still unreasonable behavior.” Evangeline rubbed her forehead. “Yet, I accepted his hand anyway and with far more enthusiasm than I would have accepted Lord Riffy’s. Tell me, Emmy, am I utterly insane?”
“You are in love,” Emily said, embracing her sister. “I could expect nothing less.”
Evangeline buried her face in her sister’s hair, breathing in the scent of her sister. Soon, she would be married—they would both be married—and whatever intimacy they enjoyed here, of crawling into each other’s rooms for help and comfort and advice, would be gone. She vowed to appreciate it as long as she could.
Yet… there was still something she wished to do.
“It has been a long day,” she said, drawing back and taking both Emily’s hands in her own. “Would you be very angry if I asked to continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“Not in the slightest!” Emily slid back off the bed, her shawl drooping down her back as she walked back toward the door. “I did not say it,” she said, pausing at the doorway to glance back, “but I am very happy for you. I hope the Marquess brings you every bit of happiness you deserve.”
“I am confident he will,” Evangeline said. “And whenever Aunt Dorothea seems unsure of that fact, I beg you would remind her.”
Emily laughed and held up her hand in farewell as she left the room. Evangeline flung her sheets back and waited, listening until she was confident the corridor outside her room was empty. Emily’s was the room next door, but she was already ready for bed, and once she was safely closeted in her room, it was unlikely she would hear a thing if Evangeline was quiet.
With her heart in her mouth, Evangeline crept to the door and opened it, peering outside into the gloom. Nothing stirred, so she closed the door behind her, easing it shut without a sound, and wandered along the carpeted landing in bare feet.
Something moved ahead of her, and she shrank back into the darkness. It was a figure, she realized, moving just as soundlessly as she. Unable to run without being seen, she ducked behind a decorative vase and held her breath.
The figure approached the west wing of the house, but before he reached her, he opened a door. Evangeline glanced out from her hiding place to see yellow light bathe Lord Riffy’s face as he entered the bedchamber with a smile.
Evangeline stood, wrapping her arms around herself. If she wasn’t mistaken, and she suspected she was not, that room belonged to Zachary’s mother, Lady Harley.
She hesitated for a few more moments, unsure what to do, before eventually hurrying along the corridor until she reached the room Zachary had been given. After all, she knew the way well enough by now.
The room was darkened as she entered, and a sleepy voice said, “Roberts, is that you?”
“Shh,” she said, finding her way across the floor to the bed and patting down its side until she reached the pillows. A warm hand caught her elbow and guided her into the bed. That same hand found its way to her face, and his thumb scraped across her lip. The very fact she was here in his bed, combined with the casual possessiveness of the gesture, swept heat through her, and she hooked her hands in his nightshirt and drew him closer to her.
“I did not expect to find you here,” he said, rolling over until his body half covered hers. “Though allow me to say I am extremely pleased you came.”
Although he had been asleep before she had entered, she could already feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against her. There was little separating skin from skin, and that fact again throbbed low in her core.
