Twice the Temptation Page 5

  “Thank you. She makes me very happy.”

  “I can see that.”

  “Yes, well, now we must find a chit for you.”

  With a snort Connoll headed back down the stairs. “They say a happily married man is the worst sort of matchmaker. You leave me be.”

  “For the moment, then.”

  Despite his protest, the image of a chit did cross his thoughts, and it wasn’t Daisy Applegate, thank God, but a young lady with hazel eyes and a very high opinion of herself. A lady with whom he meant to dance tonight at Almack’s, whether she admitted to wanting to see him there or not.

  A blast of warm air hit Connoll as he strolled into Almack’s main assembly room. Generally he would rather eat ants than spend an evening at Mayfair’s tamest venue, but he’d promised—or threatened, actually—to be there.

  As he rounded a flock of debutantes, he spied Evangeline standing with her mother and a tall man who looked to be her father. His pulse stirred. Whatever the devil had happened to him during that carriage accident, Gilly Munroe had seized his attention and refused to let go.

  “For heaven’s sake, John,” Lady Munroe was saying, her tone impatient, “with you skulking about, no gentlemen will approach Gilly. Please just go stand elsewhere and try to look interesting.”

  “I’m on my way, Heloise. May I fetch you a lemonade?” the viscount returned mildly.

  “No. Be sensible, will you? If you fetch us anything, you give gentlemen one less excuse to approach.”

  Hm. The mother’s tirade explained several things about the daughter. Increasing his pace, Connoll reached the Munroes before the viscount could make himself scarce. “Good evening,” he drawled, keeping his gaze on the family’s patriarch despite the keen desire to look into sharp hazel eyes.

  “My lord,” the viscountess returned when Gilly kept silent. “You are as good as your word, I see.”

  “I do try.” He paused for a moment, but when no introductions seemed to be forthcoming, he stuck out his hand. “Connoll Addison,” he said. “You must be Lord Munroe.”

  The viscount shook his hand. “I am indeed,” he said warmly. “I was just on my way to…elsewhere.”

  “It is stifling in here, isn’t it?” Connoll agreed. “I don’t blame you for wanting to escape. In fact, after I secure a place on your daughter’s dance card, I may just join you.”

  When he finally turned his attention to Gilly, her expression had become an intriguing meld of annoyance and surprise. “I already told you that I won’t dance with you, my lord.”

  He smiled, wishing for a moment that her parents weren’t present. “Change your mind, Evangeline.”

  “I don’t wish to change my mind.”

  “Very well. Then I shall keep you company for the entire evening.” He eyed her coolly. “That won’t prevent any other eligible men from approaching you, I hope.”

  “You know it will. Why won’t you simply go away?”

  “Gilly! You shouldn’t speak to a gentleman in that tone.”

  “But he’s impossible, Mama. What am I to do? I can’t challenge him to a duel.”

  “All you have to do is give me a dance, and I’ll leave you be for the remainder of the evening.”

  She glared at him for a moment. “Very well.” Her jaw tight, she pulled her dance card from her reticule and handed it to him.

  Several spaces were already taken. Lord Redmond had reserved the only waltz of the evening, damn the old fool. Waltzes should be left for those who could enjoy them. Keeping his expression mildly amused, Connoll selected a country dance toward the end of the evening and handed the card back to her.

  Gilly gazed at his selection, then lifted her eyes to his. “Now you’ll have to wait about for two hours, and not in my vicinity.”

  “Mm-hm. Excuse me. Lord Munroe, would you care to step outside for a cigar?”

  The viscount lifted both eyebrows. “I would love to. My thanks, my lord.”

  Evangeline had some interesting—and unflattering—ideas about men, and about him in particular. Lord Munroe could very likely be the key to why she held those ideas, and Connoll felt in the mood for some answers. With a nod at Gilly and her mother, he gestured for her father to lead the way outside. Bloody Almacks’s bloody patronesses didn’t allow a gentleman to smoke inside the bloody building. With no liquor served, either, he couldn’t imagine how it had become so popular.

  “You and my Gilly seem to be having something of a disagreement,” the viscount commented as they stopped at the foot of the front steps.

  Connoll handed him a cigar. “We’ve been in conflict since the moment we met,” he agreed.

  With a deep sigh, Munroe breathed in the scent of the cigar. “Very nice,” he said. “Heloise doesn’t allow me to smoke—says it’s a smelly vice—so you have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

  “If I couldn’t have a cigar on occasion, I think I would consider putting a pistol to my head.” With a swift grin Connoll lifted the glass lamp on the side of one of the waiting coaches and lit his cigar. Munroe followed suit.

  “It’s not as tragic as that, lad, though…ah…very few things satisfy as well.”

  Connoll could disagree with that, but since he’d just scheduled a dance with the man’s daughter, he kept his silence. “Why is it that I’ve never seen you in London before?” he asked instead.

  “My wife doesn’t like me to be gone from Shropshire without her. Now that Gilly’s come of age and we can all journey to London together, well, we did.”

  “You’re an indulgent husband, my lord. I doubt anything could keep me from London during the Season. For Parliament, if nothing else.”

  “Ah, Parliament. If everything goes as I hope, I’ll file my intention to sit for next year’s session. I would like to do my duty by my country.” He sighed, taking another puff on his cigar. “Family does come first, however.”

  “Of course. If I may say, you’ve raised a lovely daughter.”

  A shadow crossed the viscount’s face. “Yes, thank you. Just like her mother, she is.” He cleared his throat. “You find her amenable, then?”

  Connoll snorted. He couldn’t help himself. “Amenable? No. But forthright and witty. It’s refreshing, despite the blows to my pride. I’m…fawned over quite a bit, generally.”

  “Hm. Interesting.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just an old father musing to himself.” The viscount pulled out his pocket watch and clicked it open. “I should go see how they’re faring.”

  From what Connoll had overheard, the viscountess didn’t want her husband anywhere near them. Obviously Munroe had some opinions about things, and just as clearly he had no intention of expressing them to a man he’d only just met. If an extended acquaintance was what it took to enable him to decipher Evangeline, so be it. Whatever she’d done to him that morning didn’t seem to be waning.

  “I’ll go with you,” he decided, crushing out his cigar on the carriage’s wheel rim. “I suppose I need to assess my competition.”

  “You’re sincerely in pursuit of Gilly, then, are you?” her father asked. “With honorable intentions, I presume?”

  “I wouldn’t be talking with you if they were otherwise, my lord.” A few days ago forming that sentence would have sent him screaming into the night. Perhaps Gilly was a witch. If he was under a spell, though, it was an odd one, since a love spell generally meant that the conjurer was attracted to the conjuree. Miss Munroe had several times looked at him as though she would like to throw him through the nearest window. He grinned, then quickly hid the expression. A better explanation was that he’d simply gone mad. “And to clarify, yes, my intentions are honorable.”

  “Perhaps you should call me John, then.”

  “Only if you call me Connoll.”

  “Agreed, Connoll. I have to say, it’s pleasant to have another gentleman about for me to converse with. A household of females, you know, requires a certain restraint.”

 
Where the Munroe household was concerned, the level of restraint seemed extraordinary. He declined to comment on that, at least for the moment.

  The sight of Gilly standing before Lord Redmond, though, set him back on his heels again. As he watched, she giggled behind her fan, then playfully cuffed the old man with the ivory-ribbed confection.Good God . Who was this chit? If that had been him standing there, she would have attempted to remove his head with that fan.

  “We’ve returned to see whether you require anything, my dears,” the viscount intoned, smiling at his wife.

  “We’re quite well,” Lady Munroe said, her jaw clenching. “Lord Redmond, are you acquainted with Lord Rawley?”

  The earl shuffled his feet around to face Connoll. “Indeed I am. Welcome back to London, Rawley. I’d heard you had embarked on some expedition or other.”

  Damnation. “Oh, you know me,” he said nonchalantly. “I like to wander. It keeps me out of trouble—for the most part.”

  Redmond chuckled, then began wheezing. “For the…most part…Very good, Rawley.”

  Sending a glare at Connoll, Gilly offered her arm to the earl. “Goodness, my lord. Shall I have someone fetch you a drink?”

  “John will go,” the viscountess broke in. “Go get the earl a lemonade, John.”

  With a shallow bow, Munroe vanished. Redmond’s coughing fit continued.

  “Perhaps you might take a seat, Redmond,” Connoll suggested, beginning to wonder whether he’d killed the old fool. His quip had been only mildly amusing at most. Certainly not apoplexy-worthy.

  “Yes, I think…I shall.” With another wheeze, the earl released Gilly and grabbed for Connoll’s outstretched arm. “Too much exertion tonight, I think. I did dance with Miss Allenthorpe at the beginning of the evening.”

  “Yes, she’s very energetic,” Connoll agreed, half carrying Redmond to the nearest chair and dumping him into it. “I suggest you sit there for a few moments and recover yourself.”

  “But I have a waltz with Miss Munroe,” the old man exclaimed. “I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”

  “I’m certain Miss Munroe understands that you are a mere mortal, Redmond.” He glanced up to meet furious hazel eyes. If Gilly carried a pistol rather than a fan, he would probably have found himself on the floor, dead. “If it pains you to miss a dance, I have one with her later in the evening. We could trade, and then nothing is lost.”

  Her glower deepened. “But—”

  “You are too kind, Rawley. I accept,” Redmond returned, nodding his thanks as Munroe reappeared with a glass of lemonade. “Just need a few minutes to catch my breath, is all.”

  The music for the waltz began, and Connoll straightened. “Shall we, then, Miss Munroe?” he intoned, keeping his expression innocent and polite.

  Her jaw tight, she draped her fingers over his. “Dastard,” she hissed as he led her to the dance floor and slid an arm around her waist.

  “I made it possible for him to dance with you later,” Connoll commented, drawing her closer and then stepping into the waltz. “If I hadn’t appeared, you would still be standing with the old fool, commiserating over his advanced stage of portliness. This way you get to waltz, and still dance with him at the end of the evening, if he’s recovered.”

  “You poisoned him or something, didn’t you?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “My dear, I find you attractive, but I don’t yet know you well enough to commit murder. Perhaps by Tuesday next, if you continue to be this charming.”

  “I should never have accepted that diamond,” she muttered.

  “Redmond gave you a diamond?” The surprising stab of jealousy made his muscles shake. Connoll took a breath. He was behaving like a madman; this chit had only crashed into his life yesterday, and obviously Redmond was in the midst of courting her. Why she accepted the codger’s suit, he had no idea, but he had no intention of giving in to the abrupt desire to thrash the old earl.

  “No, not Redmond,” she countered, her hazel gaze meeting his. “My aunt gave it to me as an inheritance.”

  “My condolences on your aunt’s passing, then.” That was better. Very civilized of him.

  “Oh, she’s not dead.” A flicker of amusement touched her face. “I suppose I should explain, since I brought up the subject.”

  “Yes, that would be pleasant of you.”

  “Aunt Rachel’s apparently had the thing for years—the diamond necklace, I mean—and believed the family mythology that it’s cursed. She thought herself on her deathbed and so gave it to me with one of her silly, dire warnings. At any rate she wrote me yesterday saying that she’s feeling much better and hopes I’m using the ‘cursed gem’—that’s what she’s calling it now—wisely.”

  “But you said that you wished you hadn’t accepted it. Does that mean you believe its curse, too?”

  “No! Of course not. It’s superstitious nonsense.” She scowled. “On the other hand, the moment I accepted it, your carriage crashed into mine and nearly killed me. And now you’ve begun hounding me and won’t go away.”

  “I see. So if this diamondis cursed, then I am the personification of its evil.”

  “Precisely,” she agreed easily.

  “But I’ve never set eyes on it. If it and I are doing the devil’s work, shouldn’t it call to me or something?” He caught the glitter of amusement in her eyes again. “Wait, I think I hear it now.” He gazed about the room. “No, that’s Redmond with the vapors.”

  “Oh, stop it,” she said, a chuckle in her voice.

  “My point is, if the diamond and I are both evil, why am I only about when it’s not?”

  “That is my thinking precisely. I’m beginning to believe that my aunt had it sideways: The diamond isgood luck. And that’s why you only appear when I’mnot wearing it.”

  “Hm. You begin to wound my feelings, Gilly.” He drew her a breath closer and lowered his voice. “Tell me in all honesty that you never wish to set eyes on me again, then, and I’ll go away. But be honest, because I will acquiesce to your wishes.”

  “I never wish to set eyes on you again.”

  “Balderdash. I don’t believe you.”

  She sighed, not sounding as irritated as he expected. A little bit of herdid like him, then; just not the part she could admit to. “Why don’t you believe me, Lord Rawley?”

  “Call me Connoll.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, if you wish me to answer your question.”

  “You insist on bullying me, don’t you?”

  “You began it. I give as I receive. Call me Connoll.”

  “Connoll, then. Why don’t you believe me, Connoll?”

  He liked the way she said his name, with a kind of exasperated affection. It very much reflected the way he’d begun to feel about her. Exasperated, at wit’s end, but not willing to give her up yet. Not even close. “I don’t believe you because you kissed me.”

  “That was not—”

  “Not your idea. I know that. But in addition, I’ve noted your…strong will. If you didn’t want me about, you wouldn’t have walked with me, and you wouldn’t be dancing with me now. So you protest, but I think only for show. To please your mother, perhaps—I’m not certain, yet. But you enjoy my company, and I enjoy yours. I see no reason for us to go our separate ways. In fact, I intend to take you on a picnic luncheon tomorrow at noon.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. If you wish to test the necklace, wear it. Put it in your pocket. Burn rare spices to invoke its power. Sacrifice a chicken to it. But I will be on your doorstep at noon, and we will have a pleasant, amusing, interesting time together. I swear it.”

  “Do you, now?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Then I accept your challenge, Connoll Addison.”

  Chapter 5

  Evangeline lifted the diamond necklace out ofits velvet-lined box and then out of the velvet bag she’d found for it, and held it up to the window. Good luck or bad luck? Oh, the idea of it being either was ridiculous. Al
l wearing it to a picnic would mean was that she was terribly overdressed.

  Still, Lord Rawley had challenged her to wear it, or at least to keep it with her. And she supposed that she didn’t need to convince herself of its power; she only needed to convincehim . Therefore, if she kept it in her pocket and remained resolved to dislike him and made certain they both had a miserable time, then producing it for his viewing pleasure would ensure that he would leave her alone. Or it would at least improve the chances that he would do so.