Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

The battle has been won.

Despite the stubborn tilt of her chin, Daniel was observant enough to note the softening in her stormy blue-gray eyes. Her lips, luscious as freshly picked cherries, were slightly parted, beckoning him to have a taste.

A rather dangerous idea.

“You may tell your grandmother and the Dowager Duchess the news,” he told her gently. “I gather that they would be most pleased to hear this news, considering it has been their primary aim to see us wed.”

“Yes,” she choked out. “But I do not think they were thinking we were going to marry each other.”

Daniel shrugged. “What does it matter?”

Those tempting lips of hers thinned into a line of displeasure, and he could not help but sigh inwardly. Most young ladies harbored fantasies of a great romance and ended up sorely disappointed. It was better for Evie to have no such expectations, so her hopes would not be dashed on the rocks in the end.

“I suppose it truly doesn’t,” she muttered.

He nodded. “You go see Lady Wellington and the Dowager Duchess. I shall go on to the Archbishop to secure a special license.”

“A special license?” Her frown returned in full force. “Whatever for?”

He smirked and tapped the tip of her nose, his smile deepening when she wrinkled it in response.

“There is no reason to delay it, is there?” he asked coolly. “I gather that your dear friend, the Earl of Sidmouth, shall not waste another breath to report everything to the scandal sheets. After all, his sister works there.”

“You do not say!” she gasped, her eyes wide. She peered closely at him, and he thoroughly wished she did not do that.

Did she not know how close he was to dragging her to the sofa and having his way with her?

They had hardly announced their betrothal, and he was already thinking of indulging in his husbandly rights—the very same ones he assured her he would not force upon her.

Unless she asked, of course.

He smiled and nodded instead, pushing those thoughts to the back of his head.

“Unbelievable!” Evie breathed. “How did you know these things, anyway?”

“Well, when one stays up all night, one is bound to notice a great many things.” He shrugged.

“I suppose so,” she muttered, biting her lower lip.

He had to stifle another groan at the sight. This habit of hers was truly pushing him past the limits of his vaunted self-control.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

She blinked up at him in confusion, her eyes wide. “Do what?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You know what.”

He tightened his hold on her waist until she was close enough to feel the hardness in his breeches. To know what she was doing to him. To see how close he was to losing all control.

When Evie let out a soft gasp, it took everything within him not to simply bend down and take her mouth in a searing kiss.

“Evie,” he growled. “Do you have any idea what happens to a man who has been pushed beyond the limits of his control?”

She shook her head and laughed nervously. “I do not think I do—not that I have ever done that. Push a man to his limits, I mean. Well…”

“Then you better not start now.” He smirked at her. “Lest you find out the hard way…”

And he was hard for her. Nearly bursting out of his pants with lust and desire.

He frowned as he looked down at the tenacious yet sweetly innocent creature in his arms. No woman had ever affected him as much as she did, and worse, she was not even aware of it.

Even the way she breathed, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that weakened his resolve with every passing minute, made him want to tear open her gown and bury his face in those soft mounds.

Would she welcome his advances, then? Would she arch her back and beg him to take her over and over again?

As he slanted his mouth over hers, a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Your Grace.”

It was Barnaby.

He closed his eyes and drew back slightly. He should have counted it as a blessing that the fortuitous timing of his faithful butler stopped him from doing something foolish.

Why, then, was he inwardly cursing the man?

“I… I think I should leave now,” Evie murmured, ducking her head in what appeared to be embarrassment as she pulled away from his embrace

Daniel merely nodded. “All right. You may go to your grandmama and the Dowager Duchess. I shall be with you shortly, once I have finished conducting my business.”

She turned to leave, but then she stopped and looked at him with her chin raised haughtily.

“You seem to have forgotten one thing, Your Grace.”

“What could I have forgotten?”

She pursed her lips. “I still haven’t accepted. You must ask me to marry you. Nicely.”

“Very well then,” he continued in a tone of extreme nonchalance. “Marry me.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “A question would have been nice. I do not take kindly to being ordered about, Your Grace.”

“Do forgive me,” he muttered without the slightest hint of contrition.

If he was to marry her, then he had to learn to acquiesce to her wishes on occasion, too.

He cleared his throat and walked over to her with the solemnest expression he could muster. He took her much smaller hand in his and held it up between them as he looked into her eyes.

“Lady Evelyn Fitzroy,” he murmured. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife of convenience?”

Her response was a brilliant smile. Thankfully, she had been sufficiently appeased by his display—even if his heart thudded strangely in his chest.

It is only the lust talking. Nothing more.

“Of course I will, Your Grace,” she responded sweetly.

If her limpid gaze made his normally sharp mind falter, that smile seemed to cause an odd warmth to spread across his chest.

Even if it looked fake as hell.

He immediately dropped her hand. “Does this mean that you will do anything I ask if I do so nicely?”

“Of course not.” She sniffed. “You may rely on your lovers to do that for you.”

I cannot believe I did that!

But she actually did it—she had managed to wrangle a rather decent proposal from one of the Wolves.

Heat rushed to her face as she dashed out of the study, pointedly averting her gaze from the matching looks of shock on the faces of Daniel’s butler and secretary, who had both been waiting for him at the door.

Was it from embarrassment or excitement? Evie was not too sure, as she was giddy with both.

“My dear, you must be careful, or you will run into the wall,” a maternal voice teased her.

Evie looked up to find her grandmother looking at her with a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes. Even at her age, Lady Wellington still stood with her back ramrod straight, her elegance undiminished. However, when she smiled, Evie never failed to feel the warmth of her affection.

“Grandmama,” she choked out. “I thought you would still be at Lady Gardiner’s tea party.”

“Oh, it was dreadfully boring.” The older woman sniffed scornfully. “You know how the Countess likes to put on such airs, when her scones are never any good.”

Evie could not help but giggle as she linked her arm with her grandmother’s. “Heavens, Grandmama! But surely, the tea must have more than made up for it.”

Lady Wellington made a face. “She tells everyone with an ear to spare that her tea is the finest from India, but I know good tea, and it certainly was not that.” The older lady sighed and patted her hand affectionately. “But enough about my dismal experience this afternoon. Do tell me about your promenade, my dear. Have you had a wonderful time at the park this afternoon?”

Evie stiffened at the mention of the park. Had her grandmama already heard of her engagement?

As much as she believed Daniel’s prediction that Lord Sidmouth would waste no time spilling the news to the scandal sheets his sister wrote for, she had been hoping that the Earl might have been a little too embarrassed to shout the news to the high heavens. After all, it had not been so long ago that he was so certain he would be the one to marry her.

But even if Lord Sidmouth would not care to speak of it so freely, that does not mean that his companions would refrain from doing the same thing.

Her heart sank.

“Grandmama, I apologize that you had to hear the news from someone else,” she began in a quavering voice. “And believe me, it all caught me by surprise as well. Everything just happened so fast and⁠—”

She could hardly finish her sentence.

Her grandmother, however, looked extremely bewildered. “Whatever do you mean, dearest?”

Evie looked up in surprise. “Do you mean,” she rasped, “that you have not heard it yet?”

“What am I supposed to have heard?” The older woman looked at her in concern. “Evie, darling, you are scaring this poor old woman⁠—”

At that point, Evie inwardly cursed Daniel for foisting the task of informing her grandmother and the Dowager Duchess of Ashton of their apparent betrothal on her.

What an absolute gentleman he was proving to be!

“What poor Lady Evelyn means to say,” a laughing voice interjected, “is that she has found herself currently betrothed to my most charming nephew.”

Both of them turned to find the Dowager Duchess of Ashton walking serenely into the parlor. The corners of her eyes were crinkled in delight. She bustled over to Evie and hugged her warmly.

“Well done, my dear,” she whispered. “I must say, he certainly took his sweet time with it. I was beginning to think he would never work up the courage for it!”

Evie nearly choked at her words. If there was anything that Daniel did not lack, it was courage.

And the sheer audacity to do whatever he wanted.

“Is that true, dearest?” her grandmother gasped. “But I did not know that you were courting!”

I honestly had no idea of it either!

Evie felt as if she might burst into tears. Or laughter. Or both.

“Ladies,” a low voice admonished them. “I beg you, do be gentle with my bride. She tends to be shy.”

Evie narrowed her eyes at Daniel, who had chosen just that precise moment to casually stride into the parlor. He had already taken off his cravat, and the first few buttons of his linen shirt had already been undone. With his sleeves folded back, and his hands in the pockets of his breeches, he looked the very picture of gentlemanly ease.

And she could not help but admire his forearms.

“Fret not,” he told her softly, his hand pressed gently to her back. “I shall take things from here.”

“You better,” she mumbled under her breath. “If it was not for you, we would not be in this particular dilemma! And I am not your bride.”

“Not yet, you mean.”

He shrugged his shoulders and smirked devilishly at her. The man certainly was aware of the effect he had on her and was unscrupulously using it to his full advantage!

“I, for one, do not consider this to be a problem at all,” he added. “On the contrary, it should solve both our problems rather easily.”

His green eyes locked onto hers, sending a frisson of heat down her spine that pooled low in her belly. He was standing so close to her now that it was hardly appropriate, but did she really have to think about it right now?

A soft cough swiftly dispersed the haze that clouded her better judgment, and Evie would have jumped away if Daniel had not held her still.

The Dowager Duchess was looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “I suppose you two lovebirds might have a great deal you wish to discuss in private, but us old ladies would like an explanation if you will.”

“I might also need a glass of wine to go with it,” Lady Wellington added.

“I second that!” the Dowager Duchess declared. “Maybe make it two for me.”

Barnaby, who was ever at his masters’ beck and call, quietly left and returned with a tray of wine glasses for everyone. Daniel and Lady Wellington each took a glass, while the Dowager Duchess took the two that she claimed she needed. When Barnaby held the tray out for Evie, she realized that she was meant to take a glass herself.

A faint fragrance rose up from the burgundy surface, enticingly tickling her nose. A closer inspection would reveal that the smooth surface was marred by faint ripples from the trembling of her hand.

Evie rarely ever drank wine, and certainly not when she had not had dinner yet.

But if the situation calls for it…

Without saying anything more, she brought the glass up to her lips and downed the entirety of its contents. The liquid burned a path down her throat, but pride kept her from coughing.

There was no way she was going to give Daniel Stanton the satisfaction of seeing her choke on a glassful of wine.

It was too late that she realized that the wine was not meant to bolster her courage, nor fortify her grandmother and the Dowager Duchess for their news. When she finished her drink, both of the older ladies were looking at her in shock.

“Oh dear,” she heard her grandmother say fretfully. “I had not thought that dear Evie would be so nervous.”

“You have to forgive my betrothed,” Daniel cut in with a hint of laughter in his voice. “But it is, of course, normal to be in a celebratory mood in anticipation of our nuptials.”

At that moment, Evie wished that somehow, someway, the ground would just open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole.

Why oh why did she keep making a fool of herself before this man?