Page 3 of The Taming of the Countess

CHAPTER THREE

J ames stared at the brass-bound trunk, feeling as if it belonged to someone else…as if another man were about to travel half a world away. Both his parents had gone to Lady Callista’s ball this evening, along with his sisters. In their absence, the silence of the house seemed to embrace him in one last farewell.

He walked outside, breathing in the night air. A few months from now, it would no longer be the cool spring air of London but instead, the sweltering heat of India. A part of him still questioned whether it was right to go, but his father had been insistent upon it, claiming that he was perfectly fine. And during the past few days, there had been a spark of interest in George, as if he were excited about the gift of this journey.

He would stay a year and a half…two years at the very most, James decided. That would be enough time to make the investments on his father’s behalf, see the world, and then travel home to shoulder the responsibilities that awaited him.

From the far side of the garden, he heard the gate closing and then the rustle of skirts. Had Lily returned home early? He started towards the opposite side and then saw Miss Sinclair approaching. Her gaze was upon the ground, and her steps slowed.

‘Miss Sinclair?’ he called out. ‘Is everything all right?’ It couldn’t be, or else why would she be here?

Her expression turned panicked as if she’d not expected to find him here. ‘Oh. You’re here.’ She paused a moment. ‘I thought you would be inside. But um…yes. I suppose everything is fine. Mostly.’

He waited for her to elaborate, but she seemed even more uncomfortable in his presence. ‘Were you looking for Lily? I thought she was already at Lady Callista’s ball with my parents.’

‘Yes, she is. And I’ve asked her to come stay the night with me later so she can tell me all about it.’ James remembered, then, that the Sinclairs were rarely invited to balls. But he found it strange that Miss Sinclair had made such an effort tonight with her own appearance. Her dark hair gleamed in the moonlight, and white rosebuds were pinned behind one ear. She wore a white gown that wasn’t quite a ball gown, but it was entirely too fine for paying an unexpected call.

‘Why are you here?’ he finally asked.

Her cheeks flamed, and she managed, ‘I—that is… I was hoping to talk to you. Before you leave for India.’

Her confession surprised him, but his wariness went on alert as well. ‘Do you want to come inside? I could ring for tea and refreshments.’

‘That wouldn’t be wise. I’m really not supposed to be here, and servants do talk. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.’ She spoke rapidly, revealing her nervousness.

Whatever was bothering Evangeline was eating away at her like misery. James had no idea what to say to make her feel better, so he offered his arm. ‘What if we walk through the garden, and you can tell me everything? No one will see us.’

In the moonlight, she lifted her gaze to his. Such innocence in those blue eyes. And yet, Evangeline Sinclair had a rebellious side, just like her Highlander father. He had a feeling that she’d learned something about Lily or Rose.

‘Is this about my sisters?’

Surprisingly, she shook her head. ‘No, actually, it’s about me.’

At that, she released his arm and went to stand by the fountain. She stared into the water as if trying to find her courage. Then she admitted, ‘By the time you return from India, I suppose I’ll be married.’

‘You might,’ he acknowledged. But strangely enough, he felt an odd twinge at her statement. He’d known Evangeline for years, and he couldn’t quite imagine her as a married woman.

‘I’ll probably be wedded to some poor gentleman with a title and a mountain of debts,’ she continued. ‘And the more I think of it, the more it frightens me.’

‘Why would you be afraid of marriage?’ he enquired. ‘I thought I was the one who should be afraid.’ He’d meant it in teasing, but her face had turned serious.

She bit her lower lip, deep in thought. Then she blurted out, ‘I’m afraid because you’ll leave for India, never knowing how I feel about you.’

For a moment, her words washed over him in a wave of disbelief. He should have guessed what she was about to say. And although he supposed he ought to be uncomfortable at her confession, the startled surprise shifted into a very different response. Her words seemed to reach behind his invisible armour to a chink he’d never known was there. He ought to say something kind, for she was his sister’s closest friend. But all James could do was stare at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time.

He couldn’t seem to form an answer. He couldn’t tell her that she was too young at the age of nineteen or that they didn’t know each other well enough. He was barely thirty himself, and his mother had been chiding him for years to take a wife.

No, he’d always liked Evangeline. But in this moment, he held the power to destroy her heart. And that wasn’t something he wanted to do.

She was watching him, those blue eyes filled with vulnerability. She had laid her soul bare before him, and damned if he knew the right answer.

A kiss, perhaps. He could kiss her farewell on the cheek, and that would be enough. She would hold a good memory, and his conscience would be relieved, knowing that he’d answered her confession with kindness.

‘Evangeline,’ he began, but she cut him off.

‘Don’t say it.’ She closed her eyes, steeling herself. ‘I know you don’t feel anything for me, and that’s all right. I just…wanted you to know before you left, that’s all.’ She started to turn away, but he caught her by the hand.

‘Wait,’ he said.

She went motionless, and he brought her close enough, intending to kiss her cheek and say goodbye. Instead, he found himself drawn by the softness of her lips, the aching hunger in her gaze. And he knew he needed one taste of that mouth. Just enough to satisfy his curiosity, but not enough to make her believe there could be more. He released her hand and cupped her face.

Beneath his fingers, he could feel the pulse at her throat pounding wildly. He bent to take the kiss he wanted—but the moment his mouth claimed hers, she gained the upper hand.

Her lips were warm, sweetly yielding beneath him. And when he kissed her, she utterly disarmed him. He tasted her innocence, but more than that, there was a glimpse of more.

She kissed him back slowly, savouring his mouth in a way that drove him wild. There was nothing at all coquettish or insincere about Evie, and damn him, she got under his skin. He craved her even more with every breath in his body.

He’d kissed women before, experienced women who knew how to give pleasure. But there was something about the sweetness of Evangeline Sinclair that took him apart.

He didn’t want anyone to find them together, so he led her deeper into the garden by a stone bench at the furthest end. Here, they were shielded from any onlookers, but more than that, he could take his time, kissing her longer.

For he didn’t want to stop.

* * *

Evangeline could scarcely catch her breath. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that Lord Melville would kiss her. She’d expected James to smile with sympathy, thank her for the words, and send her on her way. Instead, he’d leaned in, giving her the most precious gift. Her body had come alive, tingling at the intoxicating flood of sensations pouring through her. She clung to his hand as he led her to a more private area of the garden.

Her brain was warning her to stop, to leave right now. But she couldn’t have moved if her life depended on it.

This wasn’t proper at all. She ought to be fighting against him, telling him no. But all she could think of was—this was what she’d yearned for over the years. She wanted passion and love in a marriage. With a man like the viscount, she didn’t feel awkward or lonely. Instead, he made her feel beautiful.

And although it was wrong, wanting to experience such a moment with him, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.

In the darkness, his mouth moved to her throat. She gasped, gripping his hair as more heat burned through her. She’d never understood why women surrendered to ruin, but now she did. If James wanted her…and if that resulted in a future for them, she wouldn’t hesitate to take his offering.

All her life, he’d been the handsome rake who had stolen her heart. He’d never treated her as inferior because of her family’s business or let her feel somehow less than a woman. And now, he was kissing her as if he couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t a farewell kiss any longer…instead, it was an awakening.

Against the curve of her hip, she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal, and a secret part of herself grew damp and restless. It was hard to catch her breath, and when his hands moved to the back of her gown, he paused, waiting for permission.

Or perhaps he was trying to stop the madness.

It didn’t matter. She wanted him, and she had no desire to end what was happening between them. Part of her sensed that if she gave him time to stop and think, he would stop touching her. And God help her, she didn’t want that.

‘Please,’ she whispered. No longer did she feel the chill of the spring night. Instead, she was only aware of this man and the forbidden feelings rising within. She had never imagined this moment, but there was nothing wrong about it. If anything, it might result in the engagement she’d always dreamed of.

‘This is wrong, Evie,’ he murmured.

‘I don’t care,’ she whispered. It was the first time he’d ever called her by her nickname. And it warmed her blood, dropping the invisible boundaries between them. He was the only man she’d ever desired, and she wasn’t about to let him go now. Not when she needed him so much.

His expression grew pained, but he sat down on the stone bench and drew her to his lap. She reached up to touch his face and brought him back down into another kiss. This time, it turned more desperate, and she grew aware of his hard length pressed against her. Instead of being afraid, it evoked a sensual thrill, and she revelled in the sensation until she could only imagine what it would be like to make love to this man. She was aching for him, wanting something she could not name.

‘Are you certain about this?’ he asked.

‘Stop talking and kiss me.’

He obeyed, his mouth hungry upon hers while his hands moved against the back of her gown. This time, he didn’t stop until her gown was fully unbuttoned.

For a moment, he struggled with the laces of her corset, even while he kissed her again. She could feel his hands fumbling in the darkness, and at one moment, she murmured, ‘Do you need a knife to cut them?’

He choked back a laugh, but finally, she felt the easing of the ties. Then, he reached beneath the neckline of her gown and chemise to cup her breast. A searing heat blazed through her when his thumb caressed her nipple. She let out a soft groan, and instinctively, she pressed herself against his erection. The motion brought a delicious ache between her legs, and she grew restless upon him.

The thought disappeared when James’s mouth closed over her nipple. She nearly cried out at the devastating pleasure that washed over her, and she bit her lip to keep anyone from hearing her. His tongue swirled over the erect tip, and a wild storm of need took her prisoner. She lost every thought of common sense until there was only the mindless pleasure of his touch.

James reached beneath her skirts and petticoats. ‘Will you allow me to touch you?’ His voice was a husky whisper. She didn’t know what she was agreeing to, but when she murmured her assent, he pushed aside her undergarments cupping her intimately. She barely had time to grasp what was happening before he slid one finger inside her moist depths. The pleasure exploded within her, and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

Words utterly failed her, and she could only cling to him as he stroked her from inside. He added a second finger and began a rhythm of entering and withdrawing from her body. Evie arched her back, unable to grasp a clear thought. The rest of the world seemed to fall away, and she surrendered to him, giving everything of herself.

He kissed her breast again, and the sensation only heightened the intense pleasure. She was crying out now, unable to bear the fierce tension rising higher.

‘Let go, Evangeline,’ he commanded.

She didn’t understand what he meant until his thumb found a sensitive place, sending her over the edge. She shuddered as the pleasure ignited every inch of her skin, and she spasmed against him. He seized her hips and rubbed himself against her centre until he groaned and collapsed with his mouth upon her throat.

Her heart was pounding, her body spent. She knew he’d never intended to touch her like this. It had spiralled out of control, but she held no regrets. She wanted to marry James, and she had no doubt that it would happen now. No man would ever touch her the way he had, and she was glad of it.

He helped her to dress and buttoned her gown again, though she suspected her hair was an utter mess. ‘We’d better get you home before my family returns.’

At that, she realised she had to remind him about his sister. ‘You’re right. And Lily is coming to spend the night with me. I should go home…before she arrives.’ He helped her to stand, though her knees still felt weak. ‘Will you want to speak with my father in the morning?’

It was a risk, but she needed to know what their future would be. James was an honourable man, and surely, he would do what was right.

For a moment, he paused. Then he took her face between his hands and kissed her mouth gently. ‘We’ll talk of it later.’

Her heart swelled up with the unspoken promises, and she nodded. ‘All right.’ Evie paused at the gate and turned back to him. ‘I don’t regret what we did.’ She refused to feel guilty for the stolen moment she’d seized. If it meant he would stay in London and marry her, it was all worth it. Even now, her body felt as if it had awakened to what love was supposed to be.

He said nothing but squeezed her hand. And when he arranged for his driver to bring her home, her heart soared with dreams of what the future would bring.

* * *

He was a cold-hearted bastard. There was no other term for it. James had known that Evangeline wanted marriage. She’d come to confess her girlish infatuation, and like a blackguard, he’d taken advantage.

He couldn’t even say why he’d done it. He’d never imagined that he would behave so badly, but there was something about her sweetness that had silenced his good sense. Her lips had ignited a madness within him. He couldn’t have stopped the storm any more than he could stop ocean waves from crashing against a cliff.

Never had he imagined she would enslave him to such desire. He’d always liked Evie, but he’d had no idea that she had such a sensual nature. He had fallen beneath her spell gladly, and he couldn’t stop thinking of her.

She deserves better , his conscience admitted.

There was no doubt of it. Evangeline wanted what every woman wanted—a home, a family, and a husband who loved her. And after he’d pleasured her last night, she would expect him to ask for her hand in marriage. If he were a true gentleman, that’s exactly what he’d do.

The weight of guilt burdened him, for he couldn’t be that man. Not yet. This was his last and only chance to see the world, and he simply had to go. It was bad enough that he’d touched Evangeline so intimately, but at least he’d left her a virgin. If she did marry while he was away, no one would know what they had done.

But a darkness curled within him at the thought of another man touching her.

He tried to tell himself that it was for the best if he let her go, to be loved by someone else. But he would never forget the sweet taste of her lips, the soft curve of her breasts, and the way she had responded to his touch. Even now, the memory of Evie evoked an arousal he wanted to deny.

He never should have touched her, never should have tasted that forbidden fruit. He’d considered writing a letter to Evangeline, but there was no apology that would atone for what he’d done.

She would despise him, as she should. And perhaps that was what needed to happen. If she hated him, it would be easier to let her go.

He’d already packed his trunk and intended to leave at dawn, disappearing without saying goodbye. It was easier that way. Otherwise, he might change his mind and stay.

The weather was grey and overcast, which suited his dark mood. He reminded himself that he’d promised his father that he would go and explore India. He ought to drink in every last adventure before returning home.

But his heart grew heavy as he left everything else behind.

* * *

‘Evie, you need to eat something.’ Margaret set down a plate of cake in front of her, but the thought of eating made Evangeline’s stomach twist.

James was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. He wasn’t going to talk to her father or ask for her hand in marriage. No, he’d taken advantage of her and had disappeared to the other side of the world. She’d practically given herself to him in the garden, and in return, she’d been left with nothing.

Her initial shock had faded, and now, it was replaced by rage. How could he do this? How could he listen to her naive confession and then treat her like a courtesan? If the man she loved had behaved like this, how could she ever trust anyone else?

‘Evie?’ her mother prompted again.

‘Just leave it there,’ she murmured. Under any other circumstances, she would have consoled herself with cake. But now, it seemed to make a mockery of her, reminding her of the time she’d spent in the library with Lord Melville.

She’d let her heart lead her down the path of temptation, and it was only through good fortune that she hadn’t been caught. The thought of ever letting any man close to her again was unthinkable.

‘You cannot hide away forever,’ her mother continued. ‘I want you to come with your father and I to your aunt Juliette’s musicale. It will be a small gathering. Lily and Rose will be there.’ It was a veiled attempt at consolation.

‘And will there be other eligible bachelors there as well?’ she prompted.

Her mother shrugged. ‘Of course. But I know it’s too soon for you, Evie.’ She moved closer, and Evangeline felt the weight of her mother’s palm upon her shoulder. ‘I never realised you had feelings for Lord Melville.’

‘It’s my own fault,’ she admitted. ‘He told me from the beginning that he had no interest in marriage.’

‘It still hurts,’ her mother acknowledged. ‘But all I ask is that you don’t hide yourself away.’

She couldn’t confess her reasons or her secret shame. Guilt brought a flush to her cheeks, and she realised that she’d centred her life around one man. But there was far more to living. She’d never searched inside herself to find out who she truly was or what she wanted.

Maybe it was time to do some soul-searching and find out. But in the meantime, she intended to avoid marriage. She would wear the most unflattering gowns she could find and chase away any man who dared to court her.

Instead of becoming the most desirable heiress, she intended to become the least likely to marry. She would say whatever she wanted—especially against men like Lord Dunwood. A smile caught at her lips as she imagined becoming a veritable shrew.

‘Will you come with us?’ her mother asked.

Evangeline nodded, imagining a dreadful hairstyle and the worst gown she had in her wardrobe. ‘Only if I can wear whatever I choose.’

Her mother expelled a sigh. ‘So be it.’