Twice the Temptation Read online

  “You’re jealous?” she asked, obvious surprise lifting her voice and her fine eyebrows.

  “I am curious,” he countered. “Is he your idea of a good catch, or your mother’s?”

  “I am not going to spend my luncheon debating the merits of the Earl of Redmond with you. At least he’s never knocked me off my feet.”

  “I knocked you down, but I never knocked you off your feet, Gilly. I don’t think any man ever has. And that is what you need.”

  She continued to scratch the kitten. “I assume you’re speaking metaphorically. And you’re wrong.”

  “You have been knocked off your feet, then? I doubt—”

  “I meant that that is not what I need. I am not some trembling, fainting miss. I know what I wish to have in my life, and I know who can provide it.”

  “And that person is Redmond?” he asked skeptically.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re wishing for the wrong things.”

  Turning away, she muttered something under her breath. The only word he could make out was “diamond.”

  “What was that?” he prompted.

  “I said, I should have worn the diamond. Let’s eat our luncheon and conclude this appointment, shall we?”

  Connoll stopped the curricle beneath a likely tree. As soon as his tiger hopped to the ground and went to hold the horses, he tied off the ribbons and jumped down himself. Evangeline puzzled him—a young lady with wits, beauty, and money enough that she needn’t marry to provide for herself, didn’t pursue matrimony with the likes of the Earl of Redmond. And yet she was pursuing it, as much as the old earl was. Why?

  “Are you going to leave me up here?” she asked, handing Elektra to her maid and twisting on her perch to look down at him.

  Shaking himself, Connoll strode around to her side of the carriage. Putting his hands around her waist, he lifted her to the ground. The curricle momentarily sheltered them from the view of anyone in the park who might be passing by. With a slow breath he tilted her chin up and leaned beneath the brim of her bonnet to kiss her.

  The softoh of surprise her lips formed molded against his mouth. Even braced for a blow as he was, her feathery breath, the smooth, warm line of her jaw, lifted him inside until he couldn’t even feel the ground beneath his boots.

  She shoved at his shoulders. Breathing hard, Connoll took a reluctant step backward. “You can’t want that old m—”

  Gilly grabbed him again, the bonnet slipping back off her honey-colored hair as she pressed against him. Her arms wrapped fiercely around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back. He felt all of it, everywhere they touched, the tremble of her lips as she parted them for his questing tongue.

  He pressed her back against the wheel of the carriage, tilting her face up as he deepened the kiss. God, she tasted of…of warm sunshine, of ripe strawberries, of something he couldn’t put a name to but that abruptly became vital to his continued survival.

  “Miss Munroe!” her maid squeaked in a hushed, horrified voice. “Lord Rawley! You must stop that at once!”

  No, he thought, sliding his arms down from her waist to her hips, drawing her harder against him.Never .

  “Someone is coming! Please!”

  That caught his attention. “Damnation,” he swore against Gilly’s mouth. Blinking, half surprised they were still clothed, much less upright, he tore his mouth from hers. Pulling the bonnet back over her hair, he wiped a hand across his lips and turned just in time to see the barouche stop beside his curricle.

  “I thought I recognized your carriage, Conn,” came the booming voice of Lewis Blanchard, Lord Ivey. “You know my betrothed.”

  Clenching his jaw, Connoll faced the slender, raven-haired chit seated beside Ivey, her arm wrapped around his. “Of course I do. Good afternoon, Daisy.”

  Chapter 6

  Daisy. Evangeline looked from the lovely younglady to Connoll, standing there looking calm as anything, except for his hands, clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles were white.

  She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Connoll?” she asked, forcing a smile and choosing not to question why she felt the need to step in.

  Black eyes gazed at her, assessing, curious…and jealous? She wasn’t certain. But little as she liked the idea of being a bit player in someone else’s theatrical production, at the moment her foremost thought was that she wanted Connoll Addison to kiss her again.

  He stirred. “My apologies, Gilly,” he said easily, taking her hand in his and gently squeezing before he placed her fingers on his sleeve. “Gilly, Lewis Blanchard, Lord Ivey, and his fiancée, Daisy, Lady Applegate. Lewis, Daisy, Miss Munroe.”

  “Hello,” she said, with a nod and a smile.

  “Miss Munroe.” The large Lord Ivey grinned. “No wonder you didn’t want my services as a matchmaker, Connoll. You might have said something.”

  “I don’t gossip, even about myself,” the marquis returned. “Lady Applegate, best wishes to you on your betrothal.”

  “Thank you, Lord Rawley. I hope you and Miss Munroe will come to our engagement ball.”

  “I can’t speak for Evangeline, but I would be honored.”

  “As would I,” Evangeline echoed, rather surprised to hear herself volunteering. It had been a very exceptional kiss, however, even better than the first one. And to herself she could admit that though it wasn’t supposed to matter, the kiss from Lord Redmond had repulsed her.

  “Splendid.” Ivey chuckled again. “Very well. We’ll leave you to your picnic, then.” He doffed his hat. “Good day, Miss Munroe, Conn.”

  “Ivey, Lady Applegate.”

  She watched them down the path. “So that was the famous Daisy, eh?” she asked, facing Connoll again.

  He grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Thank you,” he murmured, running a finger along her lips as he straightened.

  Good heavens. “Don’t trouble yourself. It was a small matter.” She blinked, trying to pull her mind back to the events at hand, and to what exactly she was doing there. “Did you kiss her the same way you kissed me?”

  “What kind of question is that?” With a quizzical look at her, he returned to the back of the carriage and lowered Doretta and the picnic basket to the ground.

  “It’s a very pertinent question,” she returned, taking the blanket out of his hands and spreading it on the grass. “The first time you kissed me, you thought I was her. Daisy, Lady Applegate. Now you seem to be courting me or something, but I have to wonder whether you might merely want to have some other female on your arm so your lady won’t think you miss her.”

  She sank onto the blanket, congratulating herself on figuring out his motives, and pretending that she didn’t want to be absolutely incorrect.

  “You are very wrong about me, you know,” he commented, setting the basket beside her and dropping onto the blanket opposite.

  “How so?”

  “I wish Daisy well, and I suppose I do miss some things about her.” He scowled, shredding a piece of grass in his fingers. “She was amiable, and convenient. And honestly, I didn’t think her capable of forming a deep attachment to anyone. I realize now that she could—just not to me. Which may have been my fault, because I wasn’t interested in a deep attachment with anyone.”

  Hearing that, her heart thudded harder. Evidently his interests had changed. Did he want to form a deep attachment to her, when Daisy hadn’t tempted him to do so? Evangeline shook herself. Whatever attachment he might want to form, he’d been crossed off her list for a reason—he was not the sort of man she wanted in her life. “And then you turned around and saw me, and decided I must be the one.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Forgive my skepticism. And please don’t call on me again.”

  “Now who’s being absurd?” Connoll pulled out a bottle of Madeira and two glasses, which he handed over to her. “I didn’t lose my virginity to Daisy. She wasn’t my first mistress. And I didn’t love
her. She…wounded my pride, a little. I recover quickly.”

  “But you do love me, now.”

  However flippantly she made the statement, more than a little of her own pride rested on his answer.What was wrong with her today? To cover the sudden flutter of nerves, she held out the glasses for him to fill.

  “That’s an odd question coming from a chit encouraging an old fool’s suit.”

  Hm. He was correct, and she was stupid to have asked. “My question was about you,” she improvised. “It has nothing to do with me.”

  “Ah. Explain.”

  “Certainly. Before I waste any further time in your company, I would like to know whether or not you’re simply a magpie, pursuing whatever sparkles the most in your sight at any given moment.”

  To her surprise, he sent her a slight grin as he accepted one of the glasses back from her and took a sip. “You don’t converse like this with Redmond, do you?”

  “I have no need to be cross with him. His adoration has been unwavering since we met.”

  “So has mine.”

  She smirked. “Oh, please, Connoll. You thought I was someone else. You don’t adore me.”

  “I admire you,” he countered.

  “Why?” she blurted, before she could stop herself.Ninny .

  He gazed straight at her, his deep blue eyes serious and considering. “Because whatever web you’re spinning for Redmond, with me you’ve been honest and forthright to the point of painfulness. You are, I’m beginning to realize, exceptionally brilliant, with a wit most others would weep to possess.” He clinked his glass against hers. “And that is why I admire you, Gilly.”

  Evangeline took a drink of Madeira. Not a conventional compliment in the mix, and yet she’d never felt more genuinely flattered. This was one of the traps her mother had warned her about, obviously. Any man could be pleasant and compliant for a short time. She didn’t want her opinion listened to, her requests granted, for merely a moment; she required a lifetime of being integral to her spouse.

  “Tell me, Connoll, if we attended the Howlett ball on Friday next, and I wore a dark blue gown, would you wear a light blue coat to complement my apparel?”

  “No.”

  She frowned. “Well, why not?” He might at least have considered it for a blasted minute before he refused her.

  “Firstly, I don’t own a light blue anything, and secondly, I’m not a doll you dress to match your fancy. Now, if you said you were going to wear nothing,then I would dress in nothing as well. That is the only exception.”

  Hm. “Lord Redmond would wear light blue for me.”

  “So would a pet monkey.”

  She thought she heard a snort. When she looked toward the tree beneath which the maid rested, though, Doretta appeared absorbed in her needlework, the kitten in her lap. The tiger was too far away to overhear their conversation, thank goodness.

  “Insulting me is an odd way to show your admiration,” she said stiffly, digging into the picnic basket when he showed no inclination to do anything but sip Madeira and gaze at her all afternoon.

  “I’m insulting your suitor, not you,” he returned smoothly. “And monkeys, I suppose.”

  “Well, for your information, Lord Redmond is not my only suitor.”

  “I know of two,” Connoll said, taking a peach and pulling a very sharp-looking knife from his boot to slice it, “including myself.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Lord Dapney has already proposed to me twice.”

  “Dapney,” he repeated, frowning a little. “Dapney. Do you mean Viscount Dapney?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “But he’s older than Redmond. Good God, Gilly, you may as well hold your wedding at a cemetery.”

  “His grandson, for heaven’s sake,” she exclaimed. “The old Lord Dapney died over a year ago.”

  Connoll handed her a slice of peach. “That makes a bit more sense, at least. I hope he’s not the grandson who bought that yacht in Dover and then immediately sank it when he decided to steer it up the Thames himself.”

  “William has never mentioned any such thing. It must have been one of his cousins.”

  “Any other gentlemen pursuing you? I wish to know my competition.”

  “They are in earnest, my lord. You can’t be considered to be in competition unless you are, as well.”

  “I’m not going to commit to an enterprise after three days, Evangeline, however tempting that may be. Dapney’s proposed twice, you said, and obviously you’ve turned him down. I won’t accept him as a serious rival. Redmond troubles me more, mostly because I can’t for the life of me figure out why you tolerate him, much less encourage him.”

  Redmondtroubled him. Evangeline wondered how she would feel if the old earl began to court another woman, or if someone else showed an interest in him. The answer was easy—without a second’s hesitation she would turn around and look for another man who fulfilled her requirements. She absolutely didn’t wish to become embroiled in a conflict with anyone else over either Redmond or Dapney. How distasteful that would be.

  “What are you thinking?” Connoll asked, leaning back against the oak tree trunk and looking like the image of…well, of precisely what he was—a handsome, virile, powerful member of the peerage. And those eyes…

  “I’m thinking that your presence presents something of a puzzle for me,” she answered truthfully.

  “Did you expect that I wouldn’t be interested in you?” He handed her another slice of peach.

  It was a very good peach. “It’s not that.”

  “So youdid expect that I would be interested in you.”

  Evangeline shrugged. “I’m pretty.” As he grinned at that, she threw an acorn at him. “I have no more control over my features than keeping them clean,” she said defensively. “Their arrangement is God’s decision. I daresay you know you’re devilish handsome, Connoll. Refusing to admit something so obvious and so insignificant is mere silliness.”

  “An interesting point. Very well, we are two well-favored individuals, stamped with our features by the Almighty. Why do I puzzle you, then?”

  She hesitated. A few days ago she wouldn’t have been able to imagine herself having such a straightforward conversation with anyone, much less a gentleman. Even more surprising, she enjoyed talking with him, even when they were battling. Especially when they were battling. She didn’t think she’d ever witnessed her mother and father arguing—the viscountess made a statement, and the viscount agreed with it. No matter what it was, and no matter who might be correct.

  “I’ve been rude to you from the moment you fell on me. Why areyou here?” she countered. “Aside from your admiration of my character, which you didn’t know until later.”

  The marquis laughed. She liked the sound, merry and open—rather like she’d begun to think he must be. “Because when I kissed you, you slapped me.”

  “That’s—”

  “But before you slapped me, you kissed me back. You didn’t faint, you didn’t panic, and you didn’t scream bloody murder and compromise both of us.” His smile softened. “You kissed me back. And it was a very nice kiss. I wanted to experience another one. Several, in fact.”

  Evangeline sat back. What was wrong with her? This man would question absolutely everything she ever said or did, he would never give in and let her win an argument, and still what she wanted most at that moment was to throw herself on him and just let him kiss her. It had been avery nice kiss. And the successive ones had each been better than the first.

  “Don’t tell me that now I’ve stumped you,” he murmured, setting aside the remains of the peach in favor of some delectable-looking sandwiches.

  “I don’t want to discuss kissing any longer,” she said flippantly, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as heated as they felt. For goodness’ sake, if Redmond only kissed a little better, and Rawley a little worse, she wouldn’t have to be considering anything at all.

  “Actions speak loude
r than words, eh?” He set aside the plate and leaned toward her.

  “No!” she blurted, blocking his mouth with her glass of Madeira. “Go back onto your side of the blanket.”

  “Very well,” he returned with a jaunty grin, complying, “but I’d rather be over there.”

  Talk about something else, she ordered herself.Think about something else . “Are the rumors true?” she asked, shifting about for anything to set him as much off balance as he’d put her. “The ones that said you just returned from Paris?”