Page 38 of Loving a Beast of a Marquess
There was a frown in his eyes as he looked at her, but when she bit her lip, he sighed and shook his head, frown vanishing. “I think I understand,” he said. “And as it transpires, I have no more intention of marrying your sister. Especially not when I saw her affections were so wholly engaged by someone else.”
“Mr. Trimly?”
“The son of a Viscount, she told me.” He shrugged. “It matters little to me. She’s a sweet girl, but we would not be well matched.”
Relief rushed through Evangeline—bitter relief, for it spoke of the fact her feelings were more invested in him than she ever could have supposed. She drew back. “Then we are in agreement. And… You may stay, if you like.”
The corner of his mouth quirked into a somewhat bleak smile. “How very generous.”
“This is to be your house,” she said. “I suppose it already is though no one knows it but us.”
“I will tell no one,” he said, touching her face again as though he could not help it.
“Thank you.” She needed to escape this room before she said something she regretted—or worse before they were discovered.
Before, in short, her feelings could be betrayed or discovered by others. For what could be worse at this present moment in time than for someone to discover she wasdallyingwith the Marquess, for what other term could so adequately describe what they were doing. They were dallying. They were getting so lost in each other they forgot propriety.
“I’ll see you later,” she said.
“Evangeline—”
“Later,” she said as she slipped from the room and closed the door behind her. Panting, she rested against it just for a moment.
The Marquess knew of her father. He had promised not to tell a soul. She had kissed him again after swearing to herself that she would never involve herself with him again. Not only that—she hadlikedit. She had kissed him, and her body still throbbed with the pace of her heart and that insidious want that sat under her skin whenever he was nearby.
In some ways, she was almost glad he had realized the truth about her father before they could get carried away again in a more public space than his bedchamber. For if she had been discovered doing the things they had done there… not only would her reputation be ruined, but she would be cast out from polite society.
And she would be forced to marry the Marquess. They would be outsiders together, and she would lose everything she loved about her life. There would be no more parties, no more balls or soirees, no more Almack’s.
The thoughts steadied her and gave her resolve—which was lucky because the thought of marrying the Marquess had been… not entirely unpleasant.
But for that, she thought firmly, the Marquess would have to ask her, andthatwas extremely unlikely. He had been tender with her, yes, and gentle, and he had comforted her, but he had not said anything that might indicate his willingness to marry her.
Hardly able to string together a cohesive train of thought, Evangeline set off from the library and headed back to the drawing room. There, she joined her sister and did her best to smile for the duration of the night.
ChapterSixteen
Although Zachary had done his best not to let his true feelings escape before Evangeline—not when she was grieving the death of her father, and he had no right to grieve—the knowledge that the Duke was dead changed everything.
Evangeline had said he could stay, and it was a relief to know he had a few days to get his thoughts in order, but that didn’t solve the large problem of what he was to do. He wasn’t ready to be a Duke.
The pressure of it weighed on him, smothering him until he felt as though he couldn’t breathe. How he had contrived to be the heir of this estate—and the two ladies—he didn’t know. There was hardly anyonelessdeserving.
Not to mention the fact he was Evangeline’s guardian. She would come into her majority soon enough, but until then he was responsible for her welfare. For her marriage. He could not kiss her again. Even if she wanted him to play no part in her life—at least in the role of guardian—he didn’t want her to feel as though he was taking advantage of the power imbalance between them.
Zachary dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t remain for long in this house if this was the case. Avoiding her, or suppressing his feelings whenever he saw her, would be next to impossible, and she had asked him not to interfere with her marriage plans. She intended to marry, and she wanted him to play no part in that, either.
How could he remain in the house and watch her flirt with her suitors in the hopes one might propose before the inevitable news of her father’s death broke?
If he hadn’t been so certain that she would turn him down, he would have offered her his hand. Heaven knew he’d never had this strong a reaction to a lady before, and even if they would inevitably drive each other crazy, it was a form of crazy he suspected he’d find it impossible to live without if he were exposed to it long enough.
Another reason to leave. He rose, dismissing his valet with a wave, and descended to the small parlor where he found his mother and Lady Pevton discussing something in a low voice.
As soon as Lady Pevton saw him, however, her shoulders straightened, and she rose, casting him a scornful glance on her way out. She would not be looking at him in that way if she knew he knew their predicament, and that he was the new Duke of Wellton. Even the thought sent unpleasant shivers down his spine.
“Well, son,” his mother said. “How did you find the ball yesterday?”
The ball itself had been almost intolerable; what had occurred next had been more so or would have been without Evangeline’s presence. She had muted his disappointment at the moment, smothering it with the taste of her lips and the softness of her body against his.
