Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

EVELINE/HELENA

"Y ou stole my father's ring?" The Duke of Lennox's eyes oscillated between the glittering ruby and Eveline's face.

She nodded once, not trusting her voice. It would only be a matter of minutes before he turned on his heel and strode from the room without a backward glance.

He swiped the ring from her palm and slipped the band onto his finger, releasing a soft sigh once the ring returned to its original location.

"Is there anything else you need to share with me?" he asked, his hard gaze locking on her eyes.

She took an involuntary step backward, crashing into the vanity, and swallowed. "I also took yours and your friends' gold watch fobs."

"Are you going to return them as well?" His disarmingly quiet voice caused her stomach to flip.

"I cannot." Her lip trembling, she struggled to keep more tears from falling.

"Why not?" He inched closer. "Have you misplaced them?"

"I traded them!" Spinning around, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

His arms slipped around her body, and she turned, curling into his chest. He stroked one hand over her head, waiting until her hysteria subsided before speaking.

"What did you exchange them for? Money?"

She shook her head and lifted her face from his tear-stained shirt.

"Silence."

"Whose silence?" His features darkened, his grip around her constricting until she couldn't move.

"Miss Drummond's."

A strange light flickered in his eyes. "How long have you been paying her?"

"Since her arrival." Eveline glanced down, unable to meet his probing gaze. "At first, she only wanted one hundred pounds, but after I paid her, she demanded more."

"Why didn't you give Miss Drummond this ring?" He lifted his hand, the ruby catching the firelight and painting the wall in red glimmers. "It's worth quite a bit."

"I didn't know the ring was your father's when I took it." She swallowed, keeping her eyes on his. "After learning its importance, I knew I needed to return it."

"What did you give Miss Drummond instead?" he asked, his gentle tone easing the trepidation churning in her stomach.

Eveline's fingers brushed across her throat, caressing the invisible pearls.

"My mother's necklace," she said, her eyes flicking to the small space between the door frame and the door. "It was the only item of value I possessed."

"Does your brother know?" The Duke of Lennox's head turned toward the doorway as well.

"I didn't inform him." Eveline worried her lower lip. "However, he may suspect after Miss Drummond wore the necklace to the theater this evening."

Her gaze returned to the Duke of Lennox, and she released a shuddering breath.

"This evening, Miss Drummond demanded a monthly stipend for her silence, leaving me only one choice." Eveline indicated the open trunk with a tilt of her head. "I intended to instruct Ernest to return the ring after my departure."

The Duke of Lennox grabbed her arms and squeezed. "You have another option."

She shook her head. "I won't endanger your life."

"First of all, it's my life to risk," he said, his voice readopting the hard edge. "And second, why do you assume Mr. Drummond will best me? In my youth, I constantly boxed with my younger brother."

"Humphrey isn't a gentleman." She paused, searching for words that wouldn't further offend the Duke of Lennox. "If something unforeseen were to occur during the altercation, the guilt of your death would drive me to madness."

He cupped her face, dragging his thumb across her lower lip.

"We can't have that," he murmured, his husky voice winding around her.

"Are you going to leave with me?" she asked, a tiny flutter of hope blossoming in her chest.

"Wiltshire is my home. I won't be driven from it." He bent his head, his mouth stopping a millimeter from hers. "And I won't allow you to be, either. Mr. Drummond will not touch you."

"There are a dozen elegant ladies perfect for the role of duchess who don't carry the burden of an undesirable match," she whispered, needing to hear the answer yet fearing his response. "Why are you pursuing me?"

"Because living without seeing you every day is torture." His lips brushed against hers, and her stomach clenched, desire pooling in her abdomen. "Because I think up the most inane excuses to spend five minutes in your company and because the only way I can satisfy my obsession with you is to marry you."

Her eyes widened. "After all my transgressions, you still want to marry me?"

"Tonight, were it possible, solely to prevent you from disappearing from my life." His tongue darted out, sliding along the seam of her lips. "However, I have two conditions before I propose."

"Mmm," she managed, her brain short-circuiting.

"Promise that you will never lie to me again." He pulled away, his eyes searching hers. "I can't assist you if I don't know the truth."

"I swear," she said, placing her hand over her heart. "I have no other secrets."

His mouth crushed hers, his tongue pushing past her parted lips and sliding along hers. The hand cupping her jaw glided through her hair and grasped the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, stealing her breath.

Head swimming, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body into him, and moaned, matching his passionate assault with her own.

He groaned and walked her backward across the room, missing the bed and causing her to bump into the door. It closed with a soft click. The Duke of Lennox tightened his grip and lifted Eveline, pinning her against the hard wood with his hips.

Palming her breast, he ground his hardening member into her soft center, sending a cascade of shivers rippling down her spine. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice resembling that of her brother whispered that her current scandalous position violated her promise to keep the chamber door open.

"Levi," she murmured against his mouth, her body screaming in protest. "The door is closed."

He leaned back, his blank face giving no indication of his thoughts. Then he slid her the length of his body, set her feet on the floor, and stepped backward, allowing her half the chamber's space between them.

"Open it," he said, adjusting his coat.

"Levi…" She started toward him.

He stopped her by holding up his hand. "If you're concerned about my premature death, leaving that door shut would ensure it comes to pass."

"I—"

"I don't have a sister. However, I suspect it's quite the chore to protect them from men like me." He grinned and gestured to the door. "Please. Before your brother appears with pistols."

"But…" She blushed and glanced down.

He tilted his head. "Eveline, tell me your thoughts."

"You won't kiss me like that with the door open," she blurted out.

Fire blazing in his eyes, he crossed the room and backed her against the wall, eliminating the distance between them. Leaning down, he stopped less than an inch from her mouth, reached over, grasped the door handle, and opened the door.

"You're correct," he murmured, the heat from his skin singing her lips. "Angering your brother is counterproductive to my plan."

"Your plan?"

"I intend to seduce you at every chance afforded me prior to our wedding and every day after that happy occasion." He touched his forehead to hers. "However, if your brother shoots me dead before that occurs, I'll lose out on that pleasure."

"He's already imagined the worst about you," Eveline said, her eyes dropping to the Duke of Lennox's mouth.

"Then, we need to ease your brother's mind." He broke the intimacy between them and moved into the doorway. "And we should inform him and Warwick of the extent of Miss Drummond's extortion."

"Am I going to be arrested?" She drew away from him.

"I have no intention of pressing charges against my future wife," he chuckled and held out his elbow.

"And your friends?" Eveline licked her lips.

She hadn't stolen from the Duke of Warwick, but both the Duke of Beaufort and the Duke of Mansfield lost items to her nimble fingers.

"They'll receive monetary compensation for their loss." The Duke of Lennox offered her a half-smile. "Or they could consider the watch fobs as early wedding gifts."

"I don't understand why," she said, twisting her fingers into knots.

"I'm going to need a bit more," he replied, striding back into the chamber.

"Why would your friends forgive me?" She swallowed the sob in her throat.

He frowned as though confused by her question. "Because I asked them to."

Before she could turn away, he wrapped her in a tight embrace, his arms binding her in place.

"Both Roxburghe and Warwick support you."

"They don't know I stole from their friends." Despite wriggling, she couldn't loosen his embrace.

"True," he said, a smirk appearing on his lips at her futile attempt. "However, they do know that you removed yourself from a dangerous situation without any assistance, and they called me foolish for denigrating your decision to hide your past."

Her head popped up. "They did?"

The Duke of Lennox nodded. "Both of them, separately."

"Eveline!" Ernest's strained voice echoed from the parlor.

"Yes, Ernest!" she yelled, leaning over the Duke of Lennox's arm.

A beat of silence passed.

"Thank you!" he replied.

She burst into giggles. "We should head downstairs before he resorts to crawling up the staircase."

"He's done that?" The Duke of Lennox glanced at the hallway.

"On more than one occasion." Eveline grinned. "He afforded the poor men courting my sisters a terrible time."

"They lacked the benefit of interfering friends." The Duke of Lennox wiggled his eyebrows.

She gasped. "Was your presence at my house meant to distract Miss Fernsby-Webb?"

"Originally, yes." Two little spots of red appeared on his cheeks. "Although it transformed from an obligation to an excuse to spend time in your company."

"Is the Duke of Warwick?—"

"Fulfilling that very same duty?" The Duke of Lennox chuckled, released her, and bowed. "Whatever activity Warwick has chosen to occupy his time while he waits for me must have been interesting enough to keep your brother entertained as well. However, I don't think we should tempt our good fortune."

"Agreed." Eveline took his hand, and they strolled through the doorway.

Ernest looked up from his cards when Eveline entered the parlor, his gaze sliding over their interlocked hands. The expression on his face warred between relief and frustration.

The Duke of Warwick tossed a coin into the center of the table and glanced over. "Have you sorted out your difficulties?"

"We have." The Duke of Lennox kissed Eveline's hand, led her to the chair beside her brother, and, as she sat, said, "However, we have a new issue that needs to be addressed."

"I'm not unpacking her trunk," Ernest grumbled, adding a coin to the growing pile.

"This is regarding Miss Drummond," the Duke of Lennox replied, placing a hand on Eveline's shoulder and gently squeezing it.

Setting down his cards, Ernest gave the Duke of Lennox his full attention.

"Eveline mentioned Miss Drummond's demand for a monthly stipend as the reason for her departure. Is that the concern?"

"It's a portion of it." The Duke of Lennox released Eveline and rounded the table to the empty seat. "Are you aware of how long Miss Drummond has been extorting money from your sister?"

"No… for how long?" Ernest asked, his gaze jumping from the Duke of Lennox to Eveline.

"Since her arrival," Eveline said, exhaling a trembling breath. "And she's also responsible for the anonymous, unflattering newspaper articles printed about me."

"Where did you get the funds to pay Miss Drummond?" Reaching across the table, Ernest grasped Eveline's wrist, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand. "You can tell me."

Eveline dropped her eyes, staring at the table. "When I ran out of money, I gave her mother's necklace."

A low curse word crawled from Ernest's mouth. "Miss Drummond wore that necklace this evening."

"And," the Duke of Lennox prodded, giving Eveline an encouraging nod, "that isn't the only piece of jewelry she gave Miss Drummond."

A deep wrinkle appeared on Ernest's forehead. "What other items could you have given her?"

"Gold watch fobs," she said, unwilling to lift her head and watch the realization of her admission pass through the Duke of Warwick's eyes.

"Three?" the Duke of Warwick asked, the scrape of playing cards accompanying his question as he flipped over a winning hand.

Ernest muttered a low curse.

"Five in total." Eveline forced herself to meet the Duke of Warwick's gaze. "She demanded the chains I won from the Duke of Roxburghe and the Duke of Grisham, then stated either I steal the remaining watch fobs, or she'd reveal my location to her brother."

"That was quite a dangerous decision, Eveline," Ernest said, gathering the cards into a stack. "Humphrey could find you there as well if you had been captured and imprisoned for theft."

"But he couldn't reach me inside the cell." Eveline forced the corners of her mouth to lift. "And you'd always know where to send my missives."

"I suppose," the Duke of Warwick said, drawing a small pile of coins toward himself, "we'll need to inform Mr. Hughes we've discovered the thief's identity. He can close the case."

"Unless," the Duke of Lennox said, leaning forward and setting his arms on the table, "we reveal Miss Drummond is the cause behind the thefts, thus making her responsible for the crime."

Ernest shuffled the cards three times. "How do you intend to do that?"

"To start, we're going to print a story in tomorrow's newspaper." A sinister grin darkened the Duke of Lennox's visage. "And Miss Drummond will learn not to encourage the less fortunate to steal."

"You can't name her," Eveline said, recoiling from the fury rolling across the table.

"I shouldn't name her," he corrected, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

Pushing back the chair, he rose, strode around the table, and knelt beside Eveline, taking her hand.

"Accept that Mr. Drummond is coming," the Duke of Lennox said, his voice even. "However, when you refuse him this time, you won't be alone, and afterward, he'll never speak to you again."

Trembling, Eveline slid off the chair and crawled onto the Duke of Lennox's lap, disregarding the scandalized expression on her brother's face.

"You're going to be with me every moment of the day?" she asked, leaning against his chest.

"Two of us will." He nodded toward the Duke of Warwick.

She lifted her head and pushed her mouth into a pout. "We'll never have any time alone, then."

"I like this plan," Ernest said, smacking his palm on the table.

Eveline glowered at him.

"May I suggest," the Duke of Warwick said, tapping the handle of his cane against the table, "using the newspaper to introduce Miss Braddock to society?"

The Duke of Lennox didn't move from his position on the floor. "What are your thoughts?"

"The newspaper printed a lot of questions about Miss Rowe's identity." He waited a beat. "Let's answer them."

Ernest rose, exited the parlor, and, a minute later, returned with a piece of parchment and a small box containing two quills, a knife, and an ink well. He sat, dipped the quill in the ink, and poised his hand over the page.

"The mystery of Miss Rowe," the Duke of Warwick said, staring at Eveline, "can be answered in three words. She doesn't exist."

"And why," Ernest added, scribbling quickly, "would a lady choose to lie about her identity? Because her life was in danger."

"When Miss Rowe," the Duke of Warwick took up the narrative, "whose true name is Eveline Braddock, arrived in Wiltshire, our residents welcomed her, treating her with kindness and respect."

"However," the Duke of Lennox said, his arms tightening around Eveline, "Miss Braddock's past discovered her hiding here and extorted money and jewelry in exchange for silence and security."

"I ask," the Duke of Warwick said, peering over at the parchment, "are these the actions of one our own or a stranger who has come to visit our beautiful town?"

Ernest slashed the quill across the ‘t.' "You might as well have said, ‘Miss Drummond did it.'"

"Miss Drummond isn't the only visitor for the season." The Duke of Warwick struggled to his feet, grunting as he leaned on the cane. "We're merely narrowing down the suspects."

"Where are you going?" Ernest asked, folding the paper into thirds.

"That,"—the Duke of Warwick pointed at the parchment—"needs to appear in tomorrow's newspaper."

Ernest rose as well, then glanced down at the Duke of Lennox and Eveline. "Are you coming as well?"

The Duke of Warwick limped to Ernest, then tugged the paper from his hand. "There's no need for the four of us to descend upon the printer at this late hour."

"Is it safe…" Ernest appeared as though he wished to rip Eveline from the Duke of Lennox's arms.

"Roxburghe, Miss Webb, and Miss Fernsby-Webb should return from the theater momentarily." The Duke of Warwick sent a subtle wink toward the Duke of Lennox. "And Mr. Drummond won't have been summoned yet; however, I expect he'll arrive within the next few days. We have time to prepare."

Nodding, Ernest followed the Duke of Warwick across the parlor.

He turned when he reached the doorway, his gaze locking on Eveline. "Swear you will remain in this room until the Duke of Roxburghe and his party arrive."

"We swear," the Duke of Lennox said, his hand slipping around Eveline's waist, "not to move from this exact position."

"That's unnecessary," Ernest replied, his eyes narrowing. "I prefer not to find you on the floor upon my return."

"How would you like to discover us?" the Duke of Lennox teased, coaxing a deep scarlet color into Ernest's face.

"Clothed!" Ernest stomped from the room, and a moment later, the front door opened and slammed.

"Mmm," the Duke of Lennox murmured, nuzzling Eveline's neck. "I'm not certain I can promise that."

"What was the other condition?" Eveline gasped as he nipped her throat.

"Condition?" he asked, his lips traveling over her skin.

Eyes half-closing, she wound her arms around his neck. "To propose… you told me there were two stipulations."

He pulled back, his eyes smoldering with desire. "I want to hear the words. Tell me that you love me."