Page 9 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

“An uninvited one,” he said, fighting the urge to take her into his arms. “I’m Evan Drake, an old school friend of the earl’s.”

She brightened. “Are you Merrick? Alford mentioned him a few times.”

“I am he. I only returned to England today, having sold my commission.”

“Does it look as if this bloody war will ever end?” she asked.

He laughed at her boldness. “I believe we—and the Russians—have Bonaparte on the run. It’s only a matter of time before his troops are defeated.”

“That’s certainly good news.” She paused. “Would you like to sit? I’d be interested in hearing your views on the war. Over here.”

She moved to a dark brown settee and sat, pulling her feet up under her and placing one arm on the back so she could face him. Evan sat.

“You haven’t told me your name.”

She sniffed. “Well, youwereeavesdropping. I assumed you picked it up in our conversation.”

“Lady Rachel,” he responded. “No last name given,” he teased.

“I am Rachel St. Clair.”

“Ah. An unusual name. Is your older brother Jeremy?”

“Yes. He’s now Duke of Everton. Do you know him?”

“More of him. He was a couple of years ahead of me at Eton. I remember him quite well. His brother, too. A shame that he drowned as he did. The St. Clairs were known for their intelligence and charm.” He eyed her appreciatively. “I see you have both.”

Instead of blushing as a young miss might, Rachel St. Clair merely smiled. “Thank you. I must apologize for being in my night clothes. Leah and I thought no one would be lurking downstairs. Everyone was in bed before ten o’clock tonight.”

“That would explain your bare feet. And the dressing gown,” he noted.

She shrugged. “You were going to tell me about the war.”

“Was I?” he asked lazily, longing to trace circles along her back with his hands and around her nipples with his tongue.

“Well, I assumed you were because I asked.”

“Does everyone always do what you say?”

She grinned. “Usually. Not that I’m spoiled. Please don’t think ill of me. It’s just that St. Clairs are known for their charisma. I suppose we do charm most people so we often seem to get our way. Please, tell me about the war, Lord Merrick. Why did you purchase a commission when you are a peer?”

“Because I thought I had something to prove,” he admitted, something he’d never told another soul.

“Was it your father who inspired this brash action?”

“You’re not only charming but perceptive, Lady Rachel.”

She sighed. “It’s well after midnight. I think we could relax the rules of society. Call me Rachel.”

“And I am Evan.”

“The reason I asked about your father is that mine was horrid. He rarely spent time with any of his children. All three of us came from different wives, by the way. He’d rather drink and gamble and consort with others who enjoyed the same than give two figs about his family. When I was young, I wanted to please him. As I grew older, I decided what was important was pleasing myself.”

She had revealed a great deal about herself. It gave him the courage to do the same.

“My father banished me from Winwood after my mother died. I was six.”

Her face grew distressed. “What a beast! You deserved comfort and love.”

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