How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

The fierce love Richard felt for his daughter roared inside of him. “Good. Her nightmares lessen each day,” he said gruffly.

“I’m glad. My girls miss her at Rosette Park. You should bring her to visit again soon.”

A young lord strolled over to Evie and held out his arms. She offered him a graceful curtsy and was swept away onto the dance floor. Richard ignored the slight burn of jealousy. He squashed it, naming it as a useless emotion.

“You even smile when she does.”

“You’re becoming a meddling old man.”

Wolverton scoffed. “And you are being asinine. It is clear to me and half of the ton you desire her. Why not make an offer to her father?”

“She has qualities which may be trusted, and others which make me wary.”

“The hell you say!”

Richard studied her discreetly, peering with honest reflection into his heart. She glowed, a beautiful butterfly in her element. Not only did he feel protective, but possessiveness also curled through him. He had never felt such riotous emotions over a woman before, not even the deceptive Aurelia. “Evie belongs here, amongst the glamor, the artifice, the disgusting opulence…”

“She belongs at your side,” Wolverton countered. “You would be an imbecile if you allowed another man to snatch her away. There is an undeniable connection between the both of you.”

At my side?

After Aurelia, he’d thought deep emotional connections were beyond his capability, then he’d found his daughter. The first time she had smiled at him, sunshine had burst out in his chest. The first time she called him papa, he felt peace, and he had known not seeing his father, his mother, and even his dear sister could be endured. Estranged from his family, he only watched them from afar through the years, and had upon occasion received letters and very discreet visits from his sister, to which he had always responded favorably, but their parents forbade her from acknowledging him in public.

Anything could be endured for the sake of his daughter, except contemplating a life without Evie. And that chilled his soul. When had she become so important to him?

He chuckled, a rough humorless sound that had Edmond’s brows climbing. Richard was beyond grateful Evie did not realize the power she wielded over him. “Do you know Evie has never visited my daughter?”

The duke stiffened. “At the twins’ christening she was cordial, and Emily seemed taken with her.”

A rough sound slipped from Richard. “Evie asks of Emily when we speak, but it is superficial at best. Do you know why? Because the world she adores deems it so. My bastard daughter is never to be accepted, and Evie silently condemns her and agrees with our society in fear of tarnishing her reputation. I cannot ignore that it is her coveted position in society that motivates Evie to hold back a part of herself. She is not built for the life I lead. If we were to ever marry, her charmed existence would crumble and never reform. Her friends would melt away, the admiration that she has garnered would turn to ignominy. Bitterness and regret would then be the flavor of our union. Should I dismiss this warning in my gut because Evie’s exquisite smile brings warmth to my soul? Because one look upon her has my cock as hard as iron? Because I’ve not been able to bed a woman in over a year, because of the hunger I feel for her? If I allowed such thoughts to sway me, followed my selfish desires, am I not once again failing my daughter? Do you believe I would expose her to such pain after all the atrocities she has endured? Should I expose Emily’s heart, my heart, to loving a woman who has the power to shred us to nothing?” Ah, Christ, he’d not intended to divulge such concerns to Wolverton.

Understanding gleamed in his friend’s eyes. “Then by God, man, avert your gaze whenever Lady Evelyn is in the room, for your admiration is on display for all of society to see and speculate upon. I am forever shocked she is not yet ruined from the way in which you stare…”

Richard tugged on his cravat, and with a soft curse, shifted his attention from hers. With clipped strides, he walked away and headed to the terraced balcony.

Wolverton followed, and somehow, they made it through the crush. Richard moved a few paces ahead softly, careful to keep a respectable distance from his prey.

“I cannot help but feel we are following Lord Ponsby.”

“Do you not wish to dance with your duchess, Wolverton?”

“Strangely, I am content to remain by your side.”

“Taunting me?”

“More like encouraging. My duchess tells me Lady Evelyn’s parents are determined to see her married to a certain viscount. However, she has set her cap on one particular gentleman and will not be swayed to marry another.” The amusement in the man’s tone was not soothing in the least, as if he shared in some private joke Richard was unaware of.

It perplexed him the sense of loss that tore through him. “I wish her every success in snagging his attention.” Liar.

The duke’s laugh was rough with amusement, and Richard stole a glance at him. “Would you care to share?”

“No, I believe I will leave you to your evident hunt, and beseech my love for her dances.” Then he melted away into the crowd. Richard frowned, searching for any hidden meaning in his friend’s words. Ponsby slipped down the terrace steps to the gardens, and Richard wiped Wolverton and his meddling from his mind and followed.

The revelry died away, and soon they were blanketed only by moonlight as they veered from the gas lit gardens. He listened keenly to the viscount’s rough footfall ahead, tracking him with stealth and precision. When Richard came upon the viscount by the pond, it was to see him smoking a cheroot. He allowed himself to be heard, and as a twig broke in the dark, Lord Ponsby spun around.

“Is someone there?”

Richard allowed the disquieting silence to linger longer than necessary.