A Rake's Midnight Kiss (Sons of Sin 2)

Indignation soured her stomach, but she struggled to retain at least a patina of politeness. However she disliked Lord Neville, he had a hold over this family. “My lord, you broach subjects that, for all your generosity and care, aren’t your concern.”

He didn’t retreat. He never did. He was always convinced that he was right. Like most males, she thought acidly. She wondered whether Mr. Evans hid a bully beneath his eye-catching exterior.

“Given your father’s gullibility, I consider myself in place of a parent. A young man unrelated to you under the same roof injures your reputation. To the pure all things are pure, so I’m sure you’re unaware of the gossip.”

Her cheeks heated with vexation. And a touch of shame. After all, if anyone had stumbled into the woods several nights ago, they would have found plenty to talk about. “If you consider yourself my father, my lord, I’m surprised that you offered marriage.”

“You take me too literally.”

“Do I?” She straightened. This promised to become a pointless quarrel. “The house is bursting at the seams with chaperones. My aunt, my father, the servants can all testify that Mr. Evans and I have shared nothing improper.”

Lord Neville had the grace to look slightly abashed. “My uneasiness is over Evans’s behavior. After all, what do you know of him?”

That at the very least he was a liar. “I know that he’s the Duke of Sedgemoor’s friend. I know that he’s unfailingly kind to my father and aunt. I know that he rushed after the thieves without thought to his safety this morning.”

Now that she defended Mr. Evans, she realized that the rogue possessed more admirable qualities than just his sense of humor. Qualities that appealed considerably more than Lord Neville’s arrogance. Mr. Evans was intelligent and spoke to her as if she was too. He liked animals. He was surprisingly interesting. He kissed like a dream.

Oh, no, don’t think about that.

Lord Neville exhaled through his teeth. “There’s no point talking to you. You’re blind to your interests. I fear that man has bewitched you.”

“Don’t be absurd.” She forced herself to sound conciliatory, even as her heart rebelled. “You know that I’m a contrary creature and your opposition only makes me defend Mr. Evans.”

It was a warning, should Lord Neville take it. But he remained deaf to the message. “You’ve run wild far too long.” He paused, as if realizing that criticism was unlikely to curry favor. His voice softened. “At least give me the Harmsworth Jewel for safekeeping.”

She frowned. “Nobody outside my closest associates knows I have it.”

“The criminal classes have sources honest folk cannot imagine.”

“They haven’t found it yet. The jewel’s safe.” The only way anyone could steal it was to knock her over the head and toss her skirts into the air. Thieves could search the vicarage until they were blue in the face.

“Are you certain? Where is it?”

Curse Mr. Evans and his aspersions. Curse Lord Neville for acting the cad. A week ago, a couple of days ago, she’d have confided in him. Now she found herself lying. “There’s a secret niche in my study. The only time the jewel leaves its hiding place is when I’m working on it.”

“You can work at Youngton Hall.”

Her voice hardened. “I’d rather stay with my father and aunt.” And Mr. Evans, although she didn’t say that.

She didn’t need to. Lord Neville read her thought. His eyes flared with temper and his tone turned frigid. “As you wish. Until you consent to be my wife, I have no authority over you.”

Only with difficulty did she stop herself from retorting that she’d never grant him that particular honor. “I must let the kitchen know you won’t be at dinner.”

She saw Lord Neville consider changing his mind, but she stepped back and offered her hand before he spoke. She welcomed a night without Lord Neville’s smothering presence. It was odd—she suspected Mr. Evans’s motives, yet if she had to be locked in a small room with either man, she wouldn’t choose Lord Neville. Which said little for the intellect upon which she prided herself.

“Good evening, my lord.”

He took her hand in his fleshy palm. For one blind moment, she became suffocatingly aware of his size and power. For years, he’d been a distant figure, one of her father’s associates. Since his proposal, he’d developed an unpleasant physical reality that set her nerves jangling.

“I can still assert my authority.”

It was as close as he’d come to blackmail. She stiffened and tried unsuccessfully to pull free. “I won’t bend to threats,” she said coldly.

“We’ll see.” He bowed and for the first time, kissed the back of her hand. “Good evening, Genevieve.”

He turned to go. The urge to wipe her hand against her skirts was overwhelming. If ever she’d considered marrying Lord Neville, her reaction to his touch promised a lifetime of misery if she did.

Chapter Fourteen