Page 47 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

Chapter Fourteen

Evan stood andwatched Rachel go. The further she moved away from him, the more the shadows swallowed her up. Finally, she vanished into the dark, though the scent of her perfume lingered in the air.

He sat on the desk, trying to get a hold of himself. He’d kissed more than his fair share of women in his twenty-seven years.

None had affected him as much as Rachel.

Even now, he could still taste her. A deep yearning grew within him. It took everything he had not to race after her and claim her as his. Yet doubt flooded him. At the end, when he declared their lessons over, she’d reacted coolly. Dispassionately. As if she hadn’t been affected by what had passed between them. At the beginning, Rachel’s inexperience was obvious but she was a rapid learner who threatened to surpass him. She’d matched him kiss for kiss tonight, stirring his soul as no other ever had. Surely, she felt what he did.

He hadn’t wanted to make any type of declaration to her after the final lesson. He wanted that separate from what they would share in the future. Evan knew her brother and the rest of her family would arrive sometime tomorrow morning. Should he go to the Duke of Everton and ask for her hand in marriage? Or should he make known his feelings to Rachel first and then seek permission from her brother? Conflict filled him. Had she only used him to learn what she wanted and once their lessons ended, she was ready to move on?

No. Please, God. No.

Evan couldn’t imagine a life without Rachel St. Clair in it. She made him feel alive again. Gave him a reason to live. He hadn’t wanted to return to England. He didn’t wish to wed and have a family. It didn’t matter to him if his title and lands reverted back to some distant Drake relative. Until now. Now, Evan wanted to marry. He wanted children with Rachel. He wanted to pass down a legacy for those children.

If she would have him.

The ball would take place tomorrow night. Rachel wouldn’t lack for partners. Every man at Fairfield during the house party had lavished attention upon her. Evan thought it best if she spread her wings a bit during the ball. Maybe kiss a man or—heaven forbid—two. Just to let her know that something with those men was missing. That what they’d shared together was real. Something lasting. Only then would he declare his feelings for her and ask for her to become his marchioness.

The thought of Rachel being held by another man, much less kissing him, brought agony to him. Still, it would be for the best. She needed something to compare what had passed between them in order to see how genuine their attraction was. God, he hoped she could then love him. Evan knew how important that was to her. She could’ve wed countless men she’d met during her Season and yet hadn’t because she wanted to be in love with her future husband. He would show her how he worshipped her. How he could make her happy. Take her to new heights every time they coupled in the bedroom—and beyond.

Idly, he wondered about traveling to London to obtain a special license. He could bring it to Alex and Leah’s wedding. With so many family and friends there, it would be incredible if Rachel agreed to wed him the day after their two best friends tied the knot. Still, he realized most women planned for weeks—if not months—for the ceremony of their dreams, what many considered the highlight of their lives. He would not keep Rachel from writing out the invitations and selecting a wedding gown. He could always tear up the special license and have the banns called for their future wedding date.

Satisfied that he had a plan in place, Evan returned to his own room. When he reached Rachel’s door he paused, putting his palm against it, knowing that was what separated them. What he wouldn’t give to sneak in and lift her slumbering form from the bed and return with her to his bedchamber. He would make love to her tenderly that first time, initiating her slowly into the ways of love.

With regret, he left her doorstep and continued down the hallway to his own room. Stripping off his clothes, he left them on the floor and climbed into bed. Sleep evaded him for a long time and when it came, his dreams were of Rachel.

*

Rachel bathed hereyes again with cool water. Twice, she’d gotten up during the night to do the same. She wanted no trace of redness or swelling in them when she came downstairs for breakfast today. Drying them, she set the cloth aside and brought her fingertips to her lips. They’d been swollen last night from Evan’s demanding kisses. Even now, they were still tender to the touch.

She closed her eyes and again relived every moment from last night, even the wicked ones. His mouth on her breasts. His fingers inside of her.

How was she supposed to look him in the face after being so intimate with him?

She’d have to. Evan would be back to his aristocratic self in the breakfast room, not giving away a clue as to how the midnight hour had been spent.

At least her family would arrive today. She needed to see them. She’d missed them terribly.

“Where did I put that shoe?” Leah complained. “I can find one but not the other.”

“Let me look.”

Rachel rose and went to the bed. She got down on all fours and looked under it. Sure enough, the missing shoe was located far underneath. She had to flatten herself and stretch her arm out in order to snag it.

“Here it is,” she proclaimed.

“However did it get there?” Leah asked as she slipped it onto her foot. “Oh, I’m so excited that everyone will be here today. I can’t wait for them to see Fairfield.”

“Let’s go to breakfast,” Rachel suggested. “Hopefully, they’ll arrive soon.”

As they entered the breakfast room, she braced herself. As expected, Evan sat with Alford and Cor, looking immaculately dressed and as if he’d had the best night of sleep in his life. It grated on her as she placed eggs and toast upon her plate and followed Leah across the room in order to join them. A servant poured tea for them.

She pushed her eggs around and then took a bite, finding it hard to swallow. Instead, she sipped on her tea.

“You didn’t get any of the ham, Lady Rachel,” Evan said.

No, not Evan. She must think of him as Merrick from now on.

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