Evan hadn’t had a chance to peruse The Ruby yet, and he couldn’t be sure the papers did belong to Alexandra. But where else would she have gotten the name Prudence Spofford? It was hardly a common name. Damn it all to hell. She did seem to know a lot about the pleasures of the flesh. Yet she had been a virgin when they coupled. She had bled, and she had gasped upon his entrance. Although he had never deflowered a virgin before, he was very experienced in the act itself, and he had felt the difference, a slight hesitation, when he entered her for the first time.
So how could a virgin learn about such acts? Her two cousins, both of whom she was very close to, had recently married. They could have told her everything.
Or she could have learned it from this type of literature. Underground papers were more common than the average person might realize. Being in the printing and publishing business, Evan had come across his share of them. None, of course, that had been printed at his own house but for this one.
His guts twisted again. And he had sent her outside to be mauled by John Brooks.
He willed his stomach to settle. Brooks was an honorable man. Evan had no reason to believe he would act improperly. He truly wanted to be free of the albatross around his neck that was Alexandra. Marrying her off was the easiest and best way to accomplish this. So why did the idea make him want to punch every suitor that came near her into oblivio
n?
He should have resisted her. He shouldn’t have made love to her when they were stranded. He’d fooled himself into thinking that he was only doing it because they were alone, facing starvation, trapped in a foggy storm.
But that had been a lie. He had wanted to make love to her, plain and simple. She touched a part of him that no woman had. Several months ago, when he was courting Lady Rose Jameson, Rose had attempted to seduce him. He had been tempted, yes. He was human, after all, and Rose was a beautiful woman. But he had resisted.
He hadn’t been able to resist Alexandra.
He must find her a husband and quickly. If he did not, he had no idea what might happen between them.
And there was still the chance that he might have gotten her with child. If that were the case, they would have to marry.
Part of him hoped he had gotten her with child. Part of him wanted to marry Alexandra.
And that part scared the hell out of him.
“Are you coming, Xavier?” St. Clair slapped him on the back.
Evan looked down at the shorter man. “In a moment, perhaps. I’d like to get a little fresh air first.”
“Of course, of course. Just join us when you’re ready.” St. Clair retired to the cigar room.
Evan made haste toward the doors leading to the back terrace. Whatever was starting between Alexandra and Brooks, he was going to stop it. If Brooks was going to marry his stepsister, he would do so as a gentleman. Evan would not allow any liberties.
He walked out onto the terrace, inhaling the London night air. He wrinkled his nose. How he’d much rather be back in Wiltshire on the estate where the air was fresh and clean. He looked around. Where were Alexandra and Brooks? Had they descended onto the lawn? His heart thrummed wildly. Had he dragged her into a dark corner? Was he compromising her at this very moment?
His skin tightened around him and his muscles tensed. This would not happen. He marched across the terrace and down the stairs. “Alexandra!” he called.
Nothing.
He walked around the yard, his pulse racing, looking for any clue. Where in God’s name was she? What had he done with her? His gut tightened. If that rake had done anything to her, by God, Evan would see him in hell.
When he had searched every crevice of the lawn, he doubled around to the front of the house, searching there. He finally gave up and went back inside. The butler showed him to the smoking room.
“St. Clair, where in hell is that son of yours?”
“Xavier, I’m glad you decided to join us. John is right here.”
Evan looked farther into the room, and there sat John Brooks, puffing on a cigar.
“I thought you were with Lady Alexandra.” Evan calmed his rapid breathing.
“Only for a moment,” Brooks said. “She decided to join the ladies. But I must tell you, Xavier, she is an absolute delight. Thank you for introducing me to her.”
Evan breathed a huge sigh of relief. “You’re quite welcome. Now, it would be my pleasure to take you up on that glass of port.”
* * *
Ally smiled to herself. John Brooks was a gentleman—too much of a gentleman for her taste really. Their short walk had been pleasant, but then she had decided to join the ladies. After a grueling hour of trying to make small talk with Marvella and the countess—nice women but not gifted in the art of conversation—she was exhausted. Now, back at the Brighton townhome, Ally lay on her bed relaxing for a few blissful moments before getting ready for the ball.