The Deception (Baron 3)

“How sad,” she said, ignoring him, staring at the dust that still was flying about in the warm air. “A silly mail horn and I go flying.”

“If you landed on your bottom, then why is the feather on your hat broken?”

“I don’t have any idea.” She pulled off the hat, pulling her hair loose with it. He stared as that hair of hers tumbled past her shoulders down her back, fell over her forehead, a long strand even dangling close to her mouth. He raised his hands to smooth her hair back off her face, perhaps hold her close while he smoothed her hair back off her face. He cursed and lowered his arms to his sides.

“The mail coach flung dirt all over you. Perhaps you should have ridden Biscuit. I doubt she would have thrown you. She’s far too lazy.”

“I daresay even you, your grace, would have been tossed off. Dorcas was merely startled. She’s high-strung. She’s got long, strong legs. She can kick very well.”

“Hopefully she’ll be docile enough now,” the duke said. “Come, let’s go home.”

Chapter 18

“Bunyon has a very special way of showing his displeasure,” the duke said over his haunch of rare roast beef at dinner that evening. “I can’t imagine anyone showing you displeasure.” “You believe me such a tyrant, then?” “Not a tyrant, rather a man who is the undisputed master here.”

“Of course I’m undisputed. Who else would be in charge?”

“No one. I was just remembering how you treated me when you found me in your library. You were very much the lord of the castle, and I was nothing more than an irritation to you.”

“You still are,” he said, then frowned over his forkful of potatoes. He looked at her down that too-long expanse of table, at the vastly becoming dark blue gown of Marissa’s that Dorrie had altered to fit her. Dorrie had fashioned her hair into thick intertwined braids atop her head. Two lazily curling tendrils caressed those ears of hers. “You know exactly what I mean.”

She did, but she wasn’t about to admit it. He frowned into his glass of wine. It wasn’t wise to look at her. “I was in a black mood that day. You surprised me.” He shrugged. “How a man treats a woman in his own library—perhaps I shouldn’t pursue that thought. But you know, even seeing you for the first time, I realized that you had to be taught your role.”

“My role?” Her voice was very sweet. He grinned down at his plate.

“Your role is no different from any other lady’s,” he said, and raised his glass, toasting it toward her, enjoying himself immensely, preparing to see her turn red, perhaps hurl her wine glass at him, perhaps stutter a curse and then laugh. “And that role, naturally, is to serve her husband, bow sweetly to his every wish, bear his children, and naturally, keep her opinions to herself if they are contrary to his.” He didn’t have long to wait for her reaction. She took the bait almost instantly.

Evangeline didn’t hurl her wine glass. She flung her napkin onto the table and jumped to her feet, nearly overturning her chair. She exploded into wonderful speech. “You pompous

, arrogant ass. I have excellent opinions on many subjects, for I have studied and read and learned. You, I wager, have spent all your hours as a frivolous libertine, concerned only with your own pleasures.”

“Pompous ass,” he said mildly, grinning at her. “Now if you were teaching Edmund, then you would say P as in pompous ass?” “How do you know about that?” “I speak to my son, Evangeline. I was just thinking that it’s not at all proper for you to admit knowledge about libertines. As to my pleasures, perhaps you should meet the ladies of my acquaintances. I have never been concerned with my own pleasure more than with theirs.” He leaned forward. “Don’t you remember last night in my library? Surely I wasn’t at all selfish.”

“No, I refuse to remember because I’m rather angry with you at the moment. If I admit to remembering, then you’ll tease me endlessly. You’ll remind me over and over that I enjoyed you touching me, kissing me, oh, dear. My tongue is moving again. I will change my tongue’s direction. I can do it. Now, I don’t wish to hear about all your mistresses.”

He arched a dark eyebrow at that. “But you brought it up, Evangeline. I was just trying to explain matters to you.” She was red in the face. He wanted very much to catch her up against him, perhaps whirl her about, then slowly bring her down the front of him, then kiss her until she was silly with it. He drew a deep breath. It was enough. It was too much. After a few moments he managed to remember something to say that wouldn’t draw her, that wouldn’t have her calling him an ass, that should, in fact, please her. “Now as I recall, we began dinner with me telling you about how Bunyon shows me his displeasure.”

“Very well. You wish to change the topic. It is probably wise of you. I am calm now. What did Bunyon do?”

“He threatened to strangle me with my cravat.” “Goodness. Why did he do that?” The duke swirled the deep red Burgundy wine about in the crystal wine glass. “He doesn’t think I should leave you here. In charge of Edmund. Quite alone, in charge of Edmund.”

She didn’t like where this could be heading. “I don’t understand.” Surely he wouldn’t particularly care what his valet had to say, would he? “Bunyon believes that Edmund is old enough to accompany me to London. He also believes he’s old enough to have a male tutor. He doesn’t believe that you should allow Edmund to shoot you in order to have him learn his letters. In short, he believes you’re far too kind and far too young to have my strong-willed son in your charge.”

She felt panic well up inside her. Oh, no, this couldn’t be. She sat forward. “But if you take Edmund with you to London, there would be no reason for me to stay at Chesleigh.”

“That’s true enough. Therefore, Evangeline, both you and Edmund will come with me to London tomorrow. There’s no need to wait until Friday.”

“No!”

He blinked. She was both pale and flushed at the same time, half standing, her palms flat on the table. He arched a black eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“It was but one word. Surely you can understand one word. I yelled it, after all.” This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t leave Chesleigh, she couldn’t. Bunyon had done her in and all for the most noble of motives. What was she to do now? She was to meet John Edgerton in just under two hours. She’d been told in no uncertain terms that she was to remain at Chesleigh. Houchard would kill her father.

“Perhaps,” he said slowly, “you’d best explain that simple one word to me, Evangeline. That simple one word that you yelled so loudly you nearly brought the chandelier down.”

She was desperate, but she couldn’t let him see that. It wouldn’t make sense to him. “I didn’t mean to scream it at you. It’s just that I don’t want to go to London. Please, your grace, let me stay here. I can deal well with Edmund. I won’t fail you. He doesn’t need a male tutor. I don’t care if he tries to shoot me. I shan’t allow him to shoot me unless and until he manages to catch me. I’m not slow. It will be difficult for him. I must make it difficult for him so that he will have a challenge. I know how to deal with little boys. Please, I must stay, I must.” “You have said quite a lot there, Evangeline.” “I know and I’m sorry. But what I really want is to remain here at Chesleigh, with Edmund. I won’t fail you, your grace. He will be reading the family Bible within a month. I will have him write you a letter every day, and each letter will be at least one sentence longer than the last one. Please, your grace.”

This was all very strange. Why should she care about remaining here or going to London? Surely anyone would prefer London. He didn’t understand her at all. Her reaction was extreme. Not natural. He’d honestly believed her initial refusal to go to London the result of her embarrassment at thrusting herself, a poor relation, upon his mother. He had actually felt pleased at his decision, for he realized that despite his thinking of the night before, he did want to take her to London, to show her the sights and introduce her to his mother. He wasn’t at all certain of his intentions toward her. For God’s sake, he’d only known her for two days. But he did know that he’d never met a woman like her before, that she fascinated him, that he wanted her more than any female who’d ever come into his orbit. She appealed to his senses, all of them. And the lust, dear God, the lust she evoked so effortlessly in him.