Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Aman must never lack for alcohol in his own residence.

In Daniel’s case, he had a liquor cabinet set up in his study, although he had never felt the need to delve into its contents as much as he did that night. The expensive vintage would now serve its purpose, if only so that he might burn away the memory of Evie flushed under the moonlight, looking up at him with limpid eyes, her lips swollen from his kiss.

He had never found a woman as wildly seductive as she was at that moment, and that, in itself, was a problem. A great one.

It was only a kiss.

He had certainly done more than that. And yet, it felt different somehow. It felt dangerous. Like he was playing with a flame that threatened to burn out of control.

And he hated losing control.

What the hell am I doing?

He was supposed to be watching her, not sampling her charms.

It had seemed a simple enough task, making sure that she stayed out of trouble long enough for him to turn her back to her brother. Who would have thought that Evie would try to cross him at every opportunity she got?

Even when she was not around, he had to deal with those damned suitors sniffing after her like a pack of hounds that had caught the scent of their prey. Thinking back to Sidmouth’s arrogant proclamation, he was sorely tempted to plant his fist into the bastard’s smug countenance.

He still did, actually.

He poured himself a generous measure of whiskey before tipping his head back and drinking it all. He was about to pour himself another glass when a crisp voice pierced through the relative peace of his study.

“I was not aware that you had become a lush.”

He paused, holding the bottle in midair, and scowled.

What the hell is everyone’s problem tonight? Is it Torment Daniel Stanton Night?

He turned around with a raised eyebrow to find the Dowager Duchess of Stanton looking at him, her eyes sharp. A small smile played on her lips, and he cursed himself for letting her see him in a moment of weakness.

“It is nothing.” He shrugged, affecting a picture of nonchalance. “I was just about to head off to bed, anyway.”

The older woman looked at him with a knowing smile. “You never drink before bed.”

Daniel set the bottle down with a glare. “Is there a reason for your visit at this ungodly hour?” he snapped.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied breezily. “I merely wanted to ask if there was anyone who had caught your eye at the Hortons’ ball.”

“I thought I had made it clear that I will not be fulfilling my duties as a duke in that aspect,” he retorted sarcastically. “So, you will have to forgive me for disappointing you, Duchess.”

To her credit, Caroline Stanton, the Dowager Duchess of Ashton, did not look the slightest bit fazed by his harsh tone. Lesser men would have quailed, but she stood there serenely, her back ramrod straight.

But then again, she had to be made of sterner stuff for her to outlive the bastard she had married.

“But you did dance with Lady Evelyn,” she pointed out calmly. “You never danced with anyone before that.”

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. Pray tell, who would he dance with at a ball like the one they had just attended? The Dowager Duchess knew better than anyone the kind of women that Daniel dallied with—none of whom could be seen in public.

“You never even danced with the Marchioness before,” she pressed on. “I just found it… most unusual.”

And why the hell should he dance with the Marchioness of Cobham? The woman was already married, and that matter between them was more transactional than anything.

“What is so unusual about it?” he bit out. “The whole ton knows that Lady Evelyn Fitzroy is under my protection for most of this Season, along with Lady Wellington. It would have been far more unusual if I had simply ignored her.”

“I see,” the Dowager Duchess sighed. “So, it was simply like that, I suppose.”

“Correct.”

She smiled sadly at him as she walked over and patted his face gently, causing him to flinch slightly.

“I just hoped that you would not allow that awful man to dictate how you live your life,” she told him softly. “He is gone now, dear boy, but you still insist on tormenting yourself.”

He did not say anything more, and Caroline walked out of his study with the same quiet grace that she had entered with. Years of marriage to one of the most contemptible men had not cowed her. She was indeed an admirable woman.

However, if she carried on pressing him about finding a young lady to bind himself to for the rest of his life, he feared that even he would lose his patience with her.

And with Evie taunting him at every turn, his temper had become very short, indeed.

She waited until she heard the door to the study close, mostly keeping out of sight until the Dowager Duchess walked out and disappeared down the corridor. As soon as she was gone, Evie resumed her anxious pacing just outside the study.

I am not going to bed without resolving what happened between us. Even if I have to go into the dragon’s lair myself.

After the ball, the carriage ride back to Ashton Hall had been steeped in an unusually heavy atmosphere. Occasionally, her grandmother and the Dowager Duchess tried to break the tense silence, but they were largely met with monotonous replies. In the end, both of the older ladies simply sighed and gave up.

When they arrived at the mansion, Evie avoided her grandmother by feigning fatigue and begged to be allowed to retire to her rooms posthaste. Her grandmother had looked at her strangely for a moment before bidding her to rest well.

But how am I supposed to rest after what just happened?

Evie had never been kissed before, but she had a vague idea that when ladies had their kisses stolen, they did not have the same effect that Daniel’s kiss had had on her. Oh, she had heard them giggling about it, almost as if such a scandalous thing was like a secret prank of some sort.

She had never seen one so wrecked by the aftermath of it the way that she had been.

That kiss had been everything she had ever thought a kiss should be—and more.

And right now, what stood between her and the answers to the questions roiling in her mind was a heavy oak door.

Courage, Evie, she told herself, taking a deep breath. Fortune favors the brave. Here goes nothing.

As she gathered the courage to face Daniel, the door to the study suddenly swung open, and the object of her conflicted thoughts strode out of the study with a determined gait. For a moment, all she could do was stare at the broadness of his back and the way his linen shirt stretched over his muscles.

When she finally came to her senses, his strides had already put some distance between them.

“Wait!” she cried out.

In a fit of desperation, she dashed towards him, her hand outstretched. She managed to grab him by his arm.

When he looked at her as if she had just lost her wits, Evie wanted to sink to the floor in mortification for the third time that night.

“What do you want?”

His biting, icy tone nearly made her recoil, but she stood her ground.

“I think we should talk,” she replied, pleasantly surprised at how her voice did not quiver as much as her insides did.

Daniel had taken off his jacket and his cravat. The first top buttons of his shirt had been undone, allowing her to glimpse the muscular column of his throat. He was no less as imposing as he had been fully dressed at the ball. In fact, one might say that he looked even more forbidding, as if the wolf in him had shed all pretense and stood before her in all his wild, untamed glory.

Unfortunately, she did not feel the least bit scared of him. On the contrary, that strange warmth flooded her veins once more, and she felt something within her clench at the sight of him. A tingling sensation danced up her spine, and she was wholly, intrinsically aware of the man that stood before her.

“It was an accident,” he enunciated, his voice as calm as a still lake. His eyes betrayed no emotion as he glanced coolly at her. “We were both frustrated. It will not happen again, I assure you.”

Instead of feeling relieved by that, she felt… disappointed. Annoyed even.

“Oh. An accident.”

He raised an eyebrow at her incensed tone. “Why? Did you think there would be something more?”

At that moment, she dearly wished she could wipe the icy nonchalance off his face. Instead, she managed to gather herself and smile pleasantly at him.

“I did not think so, no.”

“Good.”

Somehow, he did not sound as pleased as she thought he would be. After all, it was quite rare for her to be so agreeable to whatever he said.

“Since that is how it is”—she continued to smile at him—“then I shall leave you to visit your Marchioness or haunt whatever club you wish to head off to.”

She was not going to unravel before him. Not like she did when he kissed her in the Hortons’ gardens. She was going to walk away from this with her head held high and⁠—

She let out a slight shriek when he pulled her back and braced his arms on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her body with his. Even as she glared up at him, she could feel the tremor of excitement that ran through her, felt the liquid heat pooling low in her belly.

“Just what the hell do you mean by that, Evelyn?” he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through her.

For so long, she had always been “little Evie” or “Colin’s little sister.” The way he said her name made her feel more like a woman. Like he had finally shed the illusion of her as a child and saw her for what she had now become.

She had to resist licking her lips, which had become dry so suddenly.

“Well, is that not what you wanted?” she replied, tilting her head back to meet his fierce glare. “Are you not a Wolf? Is that not what Wolves do?”

She saw it again—that flash of danger in his smile. That wickedness that hinted at sinful things.

Evie knew that she should run away. That this meant trouble and that conventional wisdom was screaming at her to get away.

Who could have known that her instincts of self-preservation would be lost in the face of that slight smirk?

He had leaned in close to her, so close that she felt as if he might kiss her again…

“You have no idea what you are saying, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hot breath tickling the side of her face. “And you should sincerely hope never to find out.”

As they stood there, Evie could feel the strain in his arms as he held himself away from her. She was not blind.

All it would take was for him to angle his head ever so slightly, and their lips would meet once more in an all-consuming kiss⁠—

Suddenly, he pulled back, his breath coming out in a harsh exhale. For a moment, she gazed back at him, still reeling in surprise.

And disappointment.

Once again, a very keen disappointment.

“Leave, Evelyn,” he whispered huskily.

She wrinkled her nose as she glared up at him. “I told you that you cannot tell me what to do.”

His eyes flashed at her defiance, and she could see the feral Wolf lurking in their vivid green depths once more. It stared at her hungrily, as if she were its prey.

Not tonight, she decided. Tonight, he can have a taste of disappointment.

Nimbly, she ducked under his arm and skipped away. Just when she was out of his reach, she paused and looked at him over her shoulder.

“Good night, Your Grace.”

She swore she heard a hoarse curse behind her, but she did not dare look back. She should leave while she had the upper hand.

After all, it was infinitely much better to walk away with one’s head held high.