Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Evangeline had to suppress a perfectly wicked smile before turning around to hum an inquiry.

Basil's face darkened. He pushed his way past the crowd and came toward her with a purposeful stride. His advance would have been more menacing if the sound of boots echoing against the walls were there to support him. Still, in his stockinged feet, Evangeline could not help feeling a ripple of trepidation run through her at the look in his eyes. From this distance he looked ripe to murder her. But she held her ground. Basil would never lay a finger on her for a prank.

She was quite right. The closer Basil got, the more his lips twitched. He shook his head in wonder as he stopped not three inches from her face. Bombarded with the lingering stench of stale drink, she backed away. He must have realized what he smelled like for he apologized and took a step back himself.

"Lady Ramses," he said. "My queen Titania. I do not know how you managed it, or who helped you, but you do realize that this means war?"

Evangeline squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I am ready, if you are not."

Basil's eyes narrowed and he leaned ever so slightly closer. "Are you, though?" he asked in a voice only she could hear. "With this escapade, you have given me leave to do whatever I want to you."

The thrill she had felt at his advance toward her was nothing compared to the explosion of exhilaration that went off in her chest at his words. She knew he was speaking of revenge, but she could not stop the image of his jerking her roughly into his arms from dancing across her mind.

Basil's eyes darted across every inch of her face before coming to rest on her lips. They lingered there long enough to set an alarm shooting through her head. Had he read her thoughts? He could not possibly be thinking to…

He took in a sudden breath and turned from her to the rest of the party, who were still staring at their exchange. "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have a war on our hands. On whom can I call for aid?"

The spell Evangeline had come under shattered with this unexpected move. "We are drawing allies to us now, are we?"

Basil shot a look at her. "Indeed. You have already done so. You think I believe that you got those ducks in there all on your own?"

It was true. It had only taken a moment of the farmhand's time, but her instructions had been precise and his compensation for the aftermath handsome. "I prefer mercenaries myself," she replied. "Anyone care to join me? I will make it worth your while."

Mr. Camden and Sir Michael exchanged looks and walked over to her, crossing an invisible line that declared their loyalty.

Basil looked at the girls and unleashed his most dashing smile on them. And yes, Evangeline had to admit that even disheveled and unshaven, Basil still had an attractive smile. Perhaps even more so. "Well, ladies, it looks like we shall make a pretty partnership."

Miss Elmsworth tittered. Miss Hall laughed outright and curtsied to him. Miss Owens averted her face to hide her smile. All three blushed.

Basil the rake leading these young innocents in a battle of pranks? Their mamas would not like this.

Evangeline moved quickly. "Or better yet, why not the gentlemen against the ladies of the house? Girls, to my side at once. We shall not allow the men to have the upper hand on us, shall we?"

Miss Elmsworth and Miss Owens brightened at the idea and hastened over to Evangeline. After a moment's hesitation, Miss Hall followed. Sir Michael gave his consent with a bark of laughter. Mr. Camden rubbed his hands together. The two men went back to Basil.

"Lord Malden? Make your choice," Evangeline said.

But the older man lifted his hands. "Not I. I shall be a spectator only. Something tells me I shall enjoy it immensely."

Evangeline looked at Basil to gauge his reaction to her sudden change of plan. A knowing look from him told her he understood her reasons, and a pang of guilt went through her. Basil would do no harm to the girls, truly, but Evangeline had to ensure every precaution was taken to maintain the girls' good reputations.

"So," Basil said as his soldiers joined him. "You think you can best us, can you? Come now, this can hardly be a fair fight, men against women."

"I might agree with you there, Morley," said Sir Michael. "But with Lady Ramsbury leading the charge, I am not sure."

Evangeline lifted her chin. "You are right to fear us."

The girls huddled close into her, presenting a united front against the men, but Basil wasn't having it. "You forget that Mr. Stratham will most certainly join us."

"Four against four," she replied.

"The handicap is still too great. A pack of women—delightful, charismatic, amiable women—is no match for four men."

The girls gasped and disclaimed his words all at once, declaring they would win. The heat of competitiveness rose in Evangeline, and with it, a desire to win at all costs. He had no idea what he was up against.

"Handicap?" she asked.

She slowly strode over to him, eyes never leaving his face until she reached the door and gave a nonchalant peek into the room. The smell made her jerk her head quickly back into the hall. Perhaps her initial vail to the farmhands would not be enough for the extra work of cleaning up the aftermath of her lark. She would send a basket home with each of them as well, but as she was trying to make a point, she stood her ground. "There are ducks in your bedchamber, Mr. Morley. To what handicap are you referring?"

Amidst the laughs and outcries of the people around them, Basil met Evangeline's gaze with undeterred resolution. "So be it. The game begins now."

"Excellent," Evangeline said. "Come, ladies. We must make out our plans."

She turned in time to see a maid walking down the hall toward them carrying a tray with two cups on it. Evangeline quickened her step and passed the servant, the girls following in her wake. She had hoped to be out of sight before the maid came, but no such luck.

"What is this?" Basil's voice echoed behind her.

"Coffee, sir, for you and Mr. Camden. Her ladyship ordered it brought down, if you please."

"Which ladyship? There are three of them in the house."

"I believe it was Lady Ramsbury, sir."

A pause.

"You are an absolute angel, Lady Ram," Basil called out just as Evangeline reached the backstair.

So much for presenting a strong, unbreakable front. The prank was well deserved, but she knew what kind of a head Basil and Mr. Camden must have after a night of indulging in Lord Fernsby's brandy. She hated headaches, no matter who had them.

And now, she could not make her escape, for blocking her way was another maid coming down the stairs holding a large bouquet of hothouse flowers. "If you please, m'lady. These have just come for you."

The other girls oohed and aahed at the delightful arrangement. "Who could it be from?" wondered Miss Hall. "I envy you all your admirers, Lady Ramsbury."

Evangeline took the bouquet from the maid and stared at the size of it. The maid held out a note, saying it had fallen out of the flowers on her way down.

Miss Elmsworth offered to take the bouquet so Evangeline could open the note. By this time, the men had come to see what the commotion was about and encircled the women, curious. She chuckled and parried away several guesses at the sender's identity.

"Fernsby, it must be you, who else could it be? Did Georgie put you up to it?" she teased.

Lord Fernsby shook his head. "On my honor, this is not my doing."

"Wish I had thought of it myself, you look so pleased," Sir Michael said.

Cheeks flushed with pleasure, Evangeline flipped the note open and held it close to her face, ensuring the words were for her eyes only.

With much admiration and pleasure for the evening spent in your lovely company, and hopes for many more evenings like it, Mr. Lorne.

All flattery and pleasure withered away in Evangeline's breast. Jaw tight, she closed the note with delicate fingers, though she'd have much rather have crumpled it up and set it on fire.

An interested hum sounded from behind her shoulder. "My, my, quite the admirer you have there, E."

She whipped her head around. Basil wagged his eyebrows and took a sip of coffee. How had he snuck up on her like that?

"Well, who is it from?" Lord Fernsby asked.

Evangeline was at a loss for words. She had no desire to publish the fact that she had an elderly devotee sending her such opulent gifts. She stammered out a few incoherent words before Basil stepped in. "From me. An apology of sorts."

Several brows furrowed, including Evangeline's.

"Apology for what?" Miss Elmsworth asked.

"Haven't had the remotest luck drying up the sea, you see."

On those cryptic words, Basil disappeared up the stairs.

"I will still rout you and your party, you know," Evangeline called after him even as relief flooded through her at his intervention .

"You may try," he replied cheerfully.

Four days later, Evangeline approached Basil by way of a written request that a meeting be set between the two generals of the house to better define the rules of engagement.

Basil was the first to arrive at the library, designated neutral ground by Evangeline, for the parley to take place. She came in a few moments later, two tarts in hand as a peace offering. She found him slowly pacing around the edge of the room, casually studying the spines of the books he passed.

Basil turned and took her in (a butter yellow morning gown with red and orange trimmings today) before bowing deeply. "General Titania—ah, are those for me?"

He eyed the tarts eagerly, and Evangeline's lips skewed to one side. Men and their food. The curtsy she returned to him was one fit for Court, keeping up the farcical formalities, then set the tarts on a nearby table. "These are for later. General Puck. I am come to negotiate for clearer rules of engagement in this present war of ours."

"Yes, I had your note. I rather thought you had come to your senses and wished to surrender. Is not your army fatigued?"

"Certainly not. Not after the victory in the kitchen. Routing Mr. Camden was one of our crowning triumphs."

She had never lured someone into a corner only to throw handfuls of flour at them, sending them away looking like a snowman. It felt a bit childish, but this was war, after all. "However, the ‘kick me' sign pinned to Miss Elmsworth's back was quite a low thing to do, you must admit."

"Sir Michael had his comeuppance, you know."

Evangeline nodded. "I have never seen a man pushed to neatly into a pond before. One would not think it of Lord Malden. I have never seen the man laugh so hard."

"Turncoat. How much did you pay him for his loyalty?"

"He acted alone, sir. A vigilante exacting revenge on his daughter's behalf, I give you my word."

Basil humphed but fought to keep his mouth straight. "Does it make up for the casualties taken on your side? Miss Owens has deserted you, has she not?"

Evangeline inclined her head. "It is that circumstance that has brought me here. The ink will take an age to wash out of her hair. Mr. Stratham should be ashamed of himself."

"I don't think I've ever seen him ashamed of anything."

"You are right. His reputation will soon outstrip yours if you are not careful."

Basil laughed. "I must make a better effort, then. I have been horribly lax of late. There is not much for a rake to do amongst the civil ladies and gentlemen here."

Evangeline smiled back, but there was something in his tone that was…sad. Did he miss his debaucheries so much?

"Has your daily gift arrived yet?" he asked suddenly.

Distracted for the moment, she sighed and brought her hand up to her forehead, her fingers looking like claws. The elderly Mr. Lorne had sent something for her every day since his dinner at Fernsby Hall, much to the delight of the whole house and embarrassment to herself. The notes that came with the flowers and baskets of fruit were getting more and more ridiculous. This morning it seemed he thought of turning poet on her. What shall I compare thee to? On a rose petal, a drop of morning dew…

"It is not funny," she said .

Basil smiled, but with sympathy. "I know it is not, for you, at all events."

"Do not tease me about it just now. There is business to attend to. Rules of engagement, if you please."

"Very well. First one, no hiring outside help. This war is between us, the younger set of people."

"'Younger' is a bit of a stretch, do you not think?" Evangeline mumbled.

Basil waved a hand at this. "Sort of younger. Fine. It is for the younger people's entertainment, and we are their aged chaperones. Not that you look a day over twenty-six."

"That is the biggest bouncer I have heard from you yet," Evangeline replied, fully aware of what she looked like but pleased by the compliment all the same.

Basil took in a breath, holding it for a moment before saying, "Quite frankly, I am exhausted."

Evangeline closed her eyes as relief washed over her. Someone else was just as exhausted as she. Thank goodness.

A few moments' discussion brought them to the conclusion that all the fun to be had from their war had been enjoyed and it was time to give the thing up. However, neither would surrender and neither would accept that their side had been defeated.

"If we are in agreement that the pranks should cease, then I have a proposal for you," Basil said.

"The answer is no, Basil. As always."

He chuckled. "I am not offering marriage today, my dear. Did you have your heart set on it? I am sorry to disappoint you, but it must be so. Tomorrow, perhaps."

"Basil, I could wring your neck for your impudence," Evangeline muttered, shaking her head.

"What I am proposing is that we, as generals, engage in hand-to-hand combat."

Evangeline cocked her head, brow furrowed. "Hand-to-hand…good heavens. Swords or pistols?"

Basil laughed. "I didn't mean it that way, but swords of course. You think I would lay odds against you with a gun in your hands?"

Evangeline shrugged. "Swords are just as well. You forget that I am not only eccentric but have four sons. They have taught me well in both arts, I assure you. We shall meet on the green just before sunup. Name your seconds."

"Wouldn't that be a sight? You can shoot almost as well as any—" he paused, then shrugged. "Well, after all, why not?"

"Why not?"

"Why not settle this with guns?"

Evangeline frowned. She could not tell if he was jesting. "Fight a duel against one another? Absurd. I said I am eccentric, not an idiot. Are you mad?"

Basil shook his head and brought up a hand to stop her. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I was going to suggest settling this whole affair by challenging you to a game of piquet, winner brings victory to their side. But after what you just said, that seems too tame now. Much too tame. What about a shooting match?"

The idea immediately caught Evangeline's interest. "Go on."

"First person to hit their target at twenty paces."

"Twenty paces? Are you trying to insult me? Forty paces. Muskets, not pistols."

Basil raised his brows and his eyes lighted with approval. "Done." He nodded and held his hand out to seal the bargain. "I will see to the arrangements. You will wish to inspect your own gun, of course."

Evangeline took his hand firmly. "Of course. But I will choose the judges. You choose the time and place. Does that suit?"

"Agreed," he said, shaking her hand again. She made to bring her hand away, but he kept hold of it. "What are the stakes?"

She cocked her head. "Victory. After I win, you must admit that our capers were better than yours."

"Boasting rights. Yes. All well and good for our parties, but what about something else? To raise the stakes?"

Evangeline arched a brow. "What do you propose?"

Basil took in a silent, slow breath, looking at her intently as he did so. "The loser must suffer a kiss from the winner."

Evangeline's heart stopped in its tracks for a beat or two before starting up again, galloping in place so frantically it was almost painful. "A kiss?" she managed to say.

Basil nodded, never taking his eyes off her.

Images of what a kiss might look like between them rushed unbidden into her head. Basil coming up to her, not stopping his advance until they were toe to toe. Basil raising his hands to possess her arms in a gentle but unyielding hold. Evangeline raising her eyes to his, a question in them but also an invitation. Basil leaning down slowly, ever so slowly. Evangeline responding to the pull of his movements by tilting her head upward, her breathing quick and shallow. Basil's eyes drifting to her lips before skimming his nose against hers. Evangeline's eyes closing, relishing the touch. Basil's lips brushing over hers, lightly at first. Evangeline not responding, not right away. Basil trying again, closing his lips around hers once, twice before Evangeline, trembling all over by now, would answer, finally pressing her lips against his.

This would cause Basil to slide his hands up her arms, grazing across her neck, leaving her skin tingling in the wake of his feather-light touch, until he encased her face between his hands. He would kiss her again, more pressing this time.

But wait. If Basil was kissing her, that would mean she would have lost the shooting match. She had no intention of such an event happening. She would win the wager, but that would mean she would be the one kissing him . What would that look like, pray?

"Well?"

Basil's quipped inquiry jerked her back into reality. Startled, she blinked several times to erase the images from her head. Basil was standing in front of her, still holding her hand. He was also holding a smug little smile on his face as if he knew perfectly well what she had been imagining.

Was she blushing? She felt quite warm. Could he hear her heart racing? Was he imagining what it might feel like to kiss her as well? Or be kissed?

"Where?" she asked, hoping her voice did not sound unnaturally high.

"Where?" Basil asked.

Evangeline swallowed. "A kiss where?"

Basil opened his mouth in a silent ‘ah.' His smile grew. "Anywhere the winner deems fit."

That remark opened a whole wave of possibilities Evangeline was not willing to entertain. Her shoulders stiffened and she pulled her hand away as she tried to contain her thoughts. Basil pressed his grip for an instant, as if deciding whether to allow it, before releasing her hand completely. For all his proposals over the years, he had never touched her beyond a kiss on her hand or through the motions of a dance where there were dozens of other people in attendance.

"A kiss within bounds, of course," he said.

"In front of everyone? "

"No. Boasting rights to the victors is more than enough prize for them. This wager is just between you and me, if you are agreeable. If you believe you can win, that is."

"If I win? Are you so sure of yourself?"

"I am."

Evangeline knew she had a good chance of outshooting him. Her sons had always loved that she went shooting with them, finding in her a source of pride that she was not like the other mamas. If she won, the kiss she would bestow upon him would be no more than a quick salute on the cheek. She would have control. He would barely feel it. Would he be disappointed, she wondered?

With the thought of being kissed by him, however, qualms of the past rose up inside her. If Basil won, he would choose where he would kiss her, and she did not think she could quite bear it if he chose her lips, whatever her fantasies said to the contrary.

She had never had a say in when or where the old earl had chosen to kiss her. He had done it wherever he pleased, no matter what her feelings were. She had been his. She had been supposed to accept whatever he had chosen to give or take. The idea that she could have influenced or guided his advances in any way had never even entered her head during her younger years as Lady Ramsbury, child after child, with heartbreaks and sorrow blended in for sixteen years. The fear of being separated from her children, of being thought nothing less than a perfect wife, had kept her in her place. Completely biddable in every way.

She knew now she had more control over herself than anyone else. Even if Basil won, she would put her foot down and have a say in where he kissed her. Still, the thought was nerve-wracking.

Have you never wondered?

Well, even if she had, this was no time to quail before a challenge. She would simply win the match, give him a peck, and that would be that. Nothing could be simpler.

"Very well," she said. "Within bounds, as you said. But rest assured, you will not only lose this wager, but subject your fellow men to all the cheek the ladies see fit to give."

Basil shrugged and picked up a tart. "We shall see, won't we?" he said before taking a bite.