How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal) Read online

  They had discussed everything from politics to the weather, and he genuinely admired her mind. She was clever, amusing, and a lady of thoughtful manners. She reigned at musicales and dinner parties, enthralling the attendees with her exquisite singing and skill at the pianoforte. Evie was a darling of the ton who had managed to keep herself with a single-minded determination from becoming engaged, a perplexing and frustrating situation for her parents.

  “You could have announced yourself,” she gently admonished.

  “I had no desire to join the crush or to field their unending questions. I…needed to see you.”

  Her eyes kissed over his face, searching his expression. “You look quite a fright. What has happened?”

  He stood muted, letting his despair wash over him.

  Compassion softened her features. “We cannot stay here, I’ve already rung for my maid to assist me in preparing for bed. She’ll be here shortly. Perhaps it’s best we sneak down to the library. It will surely be unoccupied.”

  She hurried to her door and gently eased it open. After a quick check to ensure the corridor was empty, she rushed out, and he had no choice but to follow. Evie dashed down the hallway and then the winding stairs. She glanced back at him, her eyes glowing with humor. “I feel quite naughty. How Mamma would swoon in horror to know you had been in my chamber.”

  Evie did not wait for a response, only ran ahead, gliding down the stairs like a graceful gazelle. They made it to the library without any incident. She faced him as they entered, her eyes warm and concerned. “Is it about Francis?”

  For once, the name of his brother did not fill him with a gut-wrenching pain. The idea of a daughter seemed to have overshadowed everything. An unnamed emotion closed his throat. “It is not that.”

  “What troubles you?”

  “I have a child.”

  Evie jerked as if he had slapped her, and her eyes widened. In the depths of her gaze he spied hurt, and it confounded him. They had developed a friendship that he trusted and relied on, despite her tender age. A friendship that even transcended the camaraderie he had with her brother. Evie was the light, the kindness, the innocence, the balance to his jadedness. She moved to sit by the chaise close to the windows, never taking her regard from him.

  “Are you to be married then?”

  He scoffed. “You know I have no interest in marriage.”

  Her lips parted and her brow furrowed in confusion. “But if you are going to have a—”

  “She is already here, and by my accounts, she is at least four years of age,” he said gruffly.

  “I cannot credit it! How is it possible?”

  As if he could explain he had been about to bed the countess. Instinctively, he knew it would hurt her, and he had taken care over the years to never make Evie aware of his liaisons. He’d been reluctant to examine his reasons for this, lest he crossed a line he was never able to return from.

  “Her mother, who is already married, revealed the knowledge of my daughter to me just now.” Without delay, he relayed all he had discovered to Evie.

  “Whatever shall you do?”

  He started to pace. “I do not know, but I must do something. I have a daughter in the world, and she is alone and unaware of her family.”

  “Will…will you place her in an orphanage?”

  Her words kicked him in the chest. That was what most, if not all, lords who found they had bastards did. They deposited their ill-gotten seed on well-run orphanages with sizable contributions. The fact that Evie expected him to follow suit left a hollow ache in his gut. For the first time since their meeting, he saw her through eyes coated with cynical mistrust.

  “Is that the advice you would bestow on me, Lady Evelyn?”

  She slowly stood and moved closer to him. “I only ask you not to do anything you would regret, Richard. Your father is dreadfully ill, and he cares a lot about your family reputation and standing in the ton. Society will not forgive you claiming an illegitimate daughter.”

  “You are hardly a woman of the world to be certain of what you speak,” he said with derision.

  She flushed. “I only want you to be careful. You are the Marquess of Westfall and the heir to a dukedom. Your parents and society will expect—”

  “Say no more. I fully understand what is expected, not that I will thank you for reminding me.”

  Hurt glared from her eyes, and he softened. “Forgive me for being churlish.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. You have been dealt heartrending blows, Richard, and you are still standing.”

  How he relied on her for comfort. “Thank you for such generosity.”

  A gentle smile tipped her lips. “You shall have it always.”

  “I must take my leave. I will discreetly slip away through the back gardens.”

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. They both froze at the unexpected intimacy. He could not say what prompted him, for he had never been so familiar with her despite their close friendship. Evie shifted her head slightly, and it brought their lips scant inches apart.

  From beneath lowered lashes, her gaze fixed on his mouth with unabashed interest, and he almost roared at the lust that raced through his body and arrowed down to his cock. What in damnation! He wanted her with agonizing ferocity.

  “Evie.” The whisper of her name was a benediction, a plea to not tempt his restraint, for he feared he would have none where they were concerned. What had he been thinking to come here? He had been so careful since their acquaintanceship to only stoke the flames of friendship and destroy any embers of passion whenever they tried to flare. Evie was not fashioned to be anyone’s mistress, and he could not succumb to her unwitting lure.

  She softly pushed her head against his, nudging him like a sensual feline inviting him to play. Her half smile hinted of feminine desire. God’s blood. Arousal curled like a flame through Richard. Surely she could not be aware of the sensual invitation in her actions.

  For the first time since their meeting in that garden, the restraint he’d placed on his desire for her wavered.

  …

  Evie had long yearned for Richard to kiss her, at least once. She knew nothing would ever come from indulging in such an intimate embrace, for despite their friendship more would not be allowed. He’d fiercely hardened his heart against love, and her parents thought him singularly unsuitable for marriage. Though, since he’d become Lord Westfall and the heir to a dukedom, her mother had been hinting that an alliance might now be welcomed.

  If only Evie could soften the heart of this handsome gentleman, who in spite of their close friendship, insisted that the opposite sex was not to be trusted. She had been unable to dent the surety of his convictions through their long correspondence, and although he seemed to admire her, he had made no move to seduce her or even to kiss her.

  “I cannot recall if I’ve told you I’m quite glad to see you,” she murmured.

  “Evie.” He all but groaned her name. “Step away.”

  Acute pleasure coursed through her veins at the knowledge Richard was incapable of moving from her. “No.”

  A visible shudder worked through his frame. “I want…”

  The pit of her stomach felt strange and fluttery. “Yes?”

  His throat worked on a swallow. “I fear I am losing my senses.”

  “Are you thinking of kissing me?”

  He gave her a long, indecipherable look. “Of course not.”

  “I think you are,” she rebutted softly, wanting to press her lips to his. All the kisses she had received had been stolen by overzealous suitors and had been quite unpleasant. It would be a curious change to offer such an intimacy instead of it being taken. More importantly, she wanted to hold and comfort Richard, to drain away the pain and tension that held him rigid.

  “Behave yourself, Evie.” He chucked her lightly on her chin as her brother Elliot oftentimes did. “I must take my leave before your mother discovers my presence. I do not have the heart to endure her a
ffront.”

  “It seems you have become a veritable rake of the first order,” she said with a grin. “Mamma is very much afraid of your corrupting influence on me, and I have been forbidden to dance with you at Lady Beechman’s ball unless you were to openly state your intentions.” Though she injected levity in her tone, Evie’s heart ached because her mother continually frowned upon their unusual friendship.

  The glint of humor in his eyes soothed her. “I’m a bloody saint within your presence. I value you too much to corrupt you.”

  Evie smiled. Richard was her confidant and the one she always turned to whenever she had troubles. He was blunt, had no notion to coddle her sensibilities, and she could always depend on his refreshing, albeit sarcastic honesty. He had never been proper or staid, which she enjoyed, for he was the very opposite of her own nature. She was the perfect and dutiful daughter, he was wild and unpredictable, and he was her greatest guilty pleasure in life. The art of baking was another pleasure she still secretly indulged in, but she had been visiting the kitchens with less frequency. For an unmarried society girl, any suggestions of individuality or uniqueness were most severely frowned upon by society and most especially by her parents. Her mother was a stickler for following the rules of the ton and was forever berating Evie for her unusual plebian interest.

  She lifted her hand and smoothed a wisp of unruly hair from his forehead. Inside she cheered loudly to see some of the misery that had shadowed his eyes lessen. “Go, and I pray all will be well with your daughter.”

  Dark torment flashed in his eyes. “I feel as if my damned heart is breaking in two.” He arched a brow. “I never thought my desolation would elicit a smile.”

  “I assure you I am only heartened by the fact you willingly admit you are in possession of a heart.” There were times his manner had been so cold and aloof, disquiet had pierced her heart and reaffirmed how useless it was to so ardently admire a man who spared little thought for the gentler sex.

  His jaw clenched. He moved to the window facing the small back gardens and leaned his elbow on the windowsill.

  “My mind has been stretched in a thousand directions. I wonder…where is she? Does she live?”

  Evie strolled to stand beside him and pressed her forehead against the cool glass. “You will find her, Richard, and you shall love her,” she said, going to the heart of what must be his fear.

  He stared down at her for a long, timeless moment. There were such doubts etched in his beautiful golden eyes that her heart lurched.

  “And if I do not find her, and she is left to suffer even more than she must be suffering now?”

  “It is not in your nature to relent. You are now the Marquess of Westfall. There are more resources available to you. Use them and find your daughter.”

  “I’ll not stop searching until I do.”

  Needing to comfort him, she hugged him. He stiffened, then his hands came around her waist like bands of steel, pulling her into the hard, masculine heat of his body. She was surrounded by his clean male scent, and it felt so right to be held in his arms. It was all utterly improper and wonderful.

  He shuddered, and it was then she felt the terrible tension in his touch. “I’ll make a terrible father…if we ever meet.”

  “You are steadfast and courageous, you are honorable despite your roguish reputation. I know you must worry, but I believe with my heart you will find her,” she reassured him. “And you will spoil her rotten and love her with all your heart. Do you know her name?”

  “Emily,” he said gruffly.

  “A lovely name. I will light a candle and pray every night until she is located.”

  “Thank you.” His chin rested more firmly atop her head. “Her mother believes I should leave her wherever she is.”

  “A selfish suggestion that bears no contemplation.”

  “She abandoned her at birth, the damnable bitch.”

  His vulgar tongue had a blush climbing Evie’s cheeks. It was at moments like these he shocked her sense of propriety, and one of the reasons she enjoyed his friendship. Richard did not behave like she was the proper and perfect daughter of an earl, to be spoken to only with mincing words, and treated as if she were a delicate flower without an intelligent thought in her mind. Already she had a reputation of being a good, biddable daughter who had perfected the ton’s rules of etiquette and politeness. Her current suitor believed she would be a well-behaved and tractable wife, and was arrogant enough to say so to the polite world. Gentle rebellion stirred in her heart, and Evie wanted to break free from the mold her parents expected her to be shaped in.

  “I quite agree, a damnable bitch,” she drawled with a measure of satisfaction.

  Richard laughed lightly. “It makes my heart glad to see such perfect lips being vulgar.”

  “How can I help you with your search?”

  “You cannot. I daresay you will not even be allowed to meet her when I’ve located her.”

  Pain pinched her heart. “Nothing would keep me away.”

  He made a rough skeptical sound. “The world will revile her, but I will make it better for her.”

  “I promise you, I will love her as you do.”

  His hands tightened even more, and she lifted her forehead from where it rested on his shoulders to meet his gaze. He was staring at her in the most unbelievably disturbing way.

  “Thank you, Evie,” he said gruffly. “You have a surprising knack for making me feel at ease.”

  With a sense of wary anticipation, she brought her hands to his jaw. His breath visibly hitched and a fine tremor worked through his body. The intense sensuality in his gaze stole her breath, and an unfamiliar but intriguing sensation fluttered low in her abdomen.

  Kiss me, she silently implored. Just once, and then perhaps forever.

  His head dipped, and Evie sighed as he settled his mouth firmly over hers, taking gentle possession. Dear heavens. Nothing had ever felt so perfect…so sublimely right. She gasped, and he took advantage, slipping his tongue between her lips. The shock of such an intimate invasion disappeared as heat pooled in her veins and thrummed in her blood. Evie had been utterly mistaken in the notion she had been kissed before. Richard’s mouth was incredibly talented, his taste evocative. With a soft moan, she sank farther into his lean but deliciously hard frame and wrapped her hands around his neck. Her fingers combed through his hair as his mouth took hers with tender desperation.

  His lips traveled to her throat, licking, kissing, and nibbling.

  Inexplicable heat speared down to the valley between her thighs, and she gasped.

  With a curse, he released her and stepped away, thrusting his fingers through his midnight-black hair. He tipped his head to the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m a dishonorable bounder,” he muttered.

  Though her heart was a pounding mess, she smiled. “And what does that make me, since I returned your embrace with such enthusiasm?”

  He gave her a chastening look.

  “I shall not be sorry. I’ve always wanted my very first proper kiss to be with you,” she admitted shyly. “I’ve gotten weary with the number of kisses that have been stolen by supposedly ardent suitors. This is the first time I gave an embrace willingly, and I enjoyed it.”

  The gaze he settled on her was piercing and intent, assessing, stripping the secrets in her heart bare. He strolled over, cupped her cheeks in his hands, and brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. “You are the one lady I feel safe around. Let’s not ruin our friendship with messy emotions. I treasure you too much.”

  A familiar ache welled in her chest. “Safe?”

  “Hmmm, I have no worry you will attempt to trap me into marriage.”

  She snorted. “Marriage to a man who believes love is for those deluded by sentiments is not a desire of mine. I…I…simply wanted to kiss a man whom I chose.” And to comfort you and to wipe the pain from your eyes. Never had she expected the burst of pleasure that had lit a fire in her blood.

 
; “Then I am glad I was of service.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “We have not conversed properly for several weeks. I’ve heard rumors of a courtship with Lord Muir.”

  “I hardly think my problems warrant a discussion now.”

  “They matter to me.”

  Her throat closed. “It does not seem the tactics we’ve used over the years work on him. He is quite determined to secure my hand,” she said tremulously. “But I am certain I shall prevail. I informed him of my love of cooking, and instead of scurrying away, I was told in explicit terms it must be stopped at once. What right does he have to order me about? It is always incomprehensible to the opposite sex that we ladies have other interests than embroidery and gossiping.”

  “I will pay him a visit.” Richard’s voice throbbed with unnamed emotions. There was something dangerously fascinating about the ruthless charge that emanated from him.

  “Be reasonable. I will be ruined if you were to warn a gentleman from courting me. It would be assumed we have a tendre. Unless you have plans to offer for me?” she teased, ignoring the stirring ache in her heart. Her mother was bringing greater pressure on Evie to select a beau, a thing that frustrated her so much she wanted to be unladylike and scream.

  “Good God, no.”

  Evie grinned. “There is no need to be so aghast.”

  A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I am appalled at the notion of marriage.”

  “You have sworn your disgust for the state of matrimony so sufficiently that I do not doubt you,” she said softly. Yet there was a place in her heart determined to win him to her way of thinking. That perhaps they were a perfect match with all their idiosyncrasies. The notion had started brewing in her heart when she tumbled into bed exhausted from late-night balls or rides in the park, when her dreams inevitably turned to being held, kissed, and heaven help her, seduced by this charming rogue.

  “The norm is to marry for wealth and social connections. If it is not your desire, Evie, defy your parents. I shall expect no less of you.”