Page 12 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
Evangeline reluctantly sat. “If you are to stay here, you must treat my aunt with respect,” she said.
The ire had almost entirely gone from his face as he glanced at her. “And I suppose you are to insist upon it?” he asked, the hint of a smile playing around his mouth. That smile was the most annoying thing of all—it made his eyes twinkle in the most irritating way, and it softened the lines of his face to make him look almost good-humored which could not be the case. He was a monster.
“I do,” she said stiffly.
“Then I shall endeavor not to offend her delicate sensibilities, provided she doesn’t offend mine.”
“Are your sensibilities so delicate?” Evangeline asked before she could help herself. Emily gave a soft gasp from behind her.
The Marquess’ smile hardened on his face. “I would advise you to not try my temper.”
“Perhaps it is your temper that should not so be easily tried.”
“Evangeline,” Emily moaned, tugging at her hand. “Please.”
“Perhaps it is,” he conceded, still with that tight, hard smile on his face, “but in this case, I think I will allow the provocation.”
“If you considermeprovocation—”
“You consider yourself provocation,” he said, with devastating insight that sent the blood rushing up into her face. “There can be no other reason you are baiting me in such a manner given my announcement that I intend to stay.”
“As tothat—”
“Are you denying me hospitality?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought your father was an advocate of hospitality.”
“I believe,” Evangeline said through gritted teeth, “such hospitality must first be offered.”
He sent her a mocking smile. “But I am no fool, Lady Evangeline. I knew you would not offer.”
What could he have to say to her father that was this important? Unless he truly did know and was placing himself here to torment them before announcing himself to be their guardian?
She knew little of the Marquess save what her aunt had told her and what she had seen with her own eyes, but she had little reason to doubt he would find ways to toy with them as a cat might with its dinner.
“Is not the weather at this time of year fine?” Emily asked desperately. Reflexively, Evangeline glanced at the window to find it splattered with rain once again. The Marquess made the same gesture, and his brows rose in surprise—or perhaps disbelief. Could he be laughing at her sister?
Before she could come to a certain conclusion, he turned back from the window and said, with surprising tact, “The weather is better than I might have presumed it to be.”
Evangeline sat in dazed shock as her sister and the Marquess exchanged strained niceties. That he was being in any way polite to her sister rankled in a way she couldn’t quite express or justify. She certainly didn’t want him to be rude, but the very fact he was making an effort was—
Well, it was out of character, that’s what, and she didn’t like a man she couldn’t predict. She especially didn’t like a man who invited himself to stay in their home presumably with the sole purpose of either ingratiating himself with their household or to torture them with the knowledge that their father was dead.
She blinked, shocked to find dampness slicked across her eyes, and glanced up to where the Marquess was looking at her with what could almost have passed for concern on his face.
“Pray excuse me,” she said, rising, glad for once that she had learned long ago to exercise considerable control over her voice. “I must find my aunt. If you are to stay, we must make the necessary arrangements.”
“There is no ‘if’,” he said, cold indifference back in his voice. “I will be staying, and so will my mother. The house is large enough to accommodate us, I’m sure.”
And, Evangeline thought viciously, he knew their fortune was large enough to accommodate him, too. No doubt that was in part what he was after—saving himself the expense of housing himself while relying on a fortune he already considered his.
If she had anything to do with the matter, he would not be staying here long.
* * *
“What are we to do?” Dorothea wailed. They were all ensconced in Evangeline’s dressing room as that was the furthest from the guest quarters. “If he does not know, he will know shortly when your father fails to return.”
If Evangeline thought too hard about the reason why her father would not be returning, she would fall apart, so she merely said, “I will not let him remain that long.”
“Can you really chase him away?” Emily’s eyes widened. “He seemed so very certain he wished to stay.”
