Once he saw Hull approaching with Lady Susanah, Evan guided his sister-in-law, Rebecca, into the forming set for the next dance.

“I’m not certain, my husband would approve of me dancing with you,” she said as she turned to face him.

“Then he should have danced with you himself,” Evan told her. “Now you’re all mine for the next quarter hour.” Then he’d return her to his half-brother, unscathed and none the worse for wear. Rebecca knew that, but she took great delight in tormenting him. She knew that he’d frequently asked her to dance because he wanted to be in the set with another woman, one he was pursuing.

Generally, she was a good sport about it.

His breath caught as Lady Susanah and Lord Hull took their places next to them. Eventually, their paths would cross in the movements of the dance. But until then, he was pretending he didn’t notice her—although she was almost all he noticed.

Rebecca looked at the women who’d joined the set before them. But that was the wrong direction. Hull had brought Lady Susanah over to the set he’d already joined rather than the other way around. He owed Hull a drink. Hell, he owed the man a bottle, maybe the entire contents of a wine cellar.

Susanah looked lovely. A trifle pale, but beautiful. He wanted more than anything to look at her directly, but he dare not acknowledge her before the dance figures brought them together. She had too many people watching her. He looked past her to see Lord Weatdon watching his daughter from a different vantage than her mother and Lord Farringate. Was it always thus for her?

She had managed to be somewhat alone at the ball where he encountered her in the alcove near the servants’ stairs, but her mother had been on the hunt for her. Then a few weeks later she managed the note and the lone excursion to the dining room. But he suspected tonight, she wouldn’t be allowed out of sight. His muscles clenched. Had she been caught? Or was it that her parents had decided she should marry Farringate and they weren’t allowing her to refuse his attentions.

Rebecca maintained a steady stream of flirtatious chatter, and he returned it, without thinking. Too much practice in that arena. He was just saying something about the sparkle in her eyes when he finally was able to make a bow to Susanah.

“Lady Susanah,” he said as if he’d just noticed her. “How are you?”

“I’m fine and you?” she answered with that false upward curve on her lips. Her eyes looked flat.

“Truly?” he asked softly as the movements drew her together. “I’ve been concerned.”

Her pale blue eyes clouded.

That was all the time he had to say anything before he was back to dancing with Rebecca.

Susanah was still looking in his direction. His focus back on his sister-in-law, he gave a negative shake of his head.

“What?” asked Rebecca. “Have I displeased you in some way?”

“You please me in every way,” he said with an amused tone.

“Oh good, because you never call on us.”

“You have missed me?” he asked Rebecca, but he cast a quick glance at Susanah. Ever so slightly he lifted an index finger in her direction. He wanted to indicate that he’d missed her, but he wasn’t certain she caught the gesture. Or would interpret it correctly if she did.

He wouldn’t have a great deal of time to chat with her, so he would just have to get to the crux of the thing. The next time their steps brought them together, he whispered, “Tell me what night to call.”

Her lips flattened and she shook her head negatively. “No.”

What?

His ears rang with her response. He stared at her and then remembered himself as Rebecca moved into his line of vision. “You are looking lovely tonight, dear,” he said. “Is that a new gown?”

Rebecca preened and launched into a monologue about her dress.

He couldn’t have cared less about her gown. If pressed, he doubted he could recall what color it was, but he nodded every now and then to encourage her. It seemed an age before he came back together with Lady Susanah. “We need to talk.”

“We don’t,” she said stiffly.

During the separation, he searched his mind for reasons she wouldn’t want to speak with him. He glanced at her father, then at her mother, and Lord Farringate still sitting with her mother as if he were already a member of the family. Had she been caught? Or had she decided that becoming a countess was more important to her than anything else? Or had she not enjoyed his kisses after he’d done his damnedest to find the manner she liked best?

If he hadn’t succeeded, then she was the finest actress in London. And more than anything he wanted to kiss her again and make her come alive as he knew he could.

When they were finally close again. “Why not?”

She didn’t answer. He spent too much of the tiny piece of time they were together waiting for her answer.

He glanced around looking for her keepers. “I waited Sunday last.”

Her eyes followed him as they separated again. He hadn’t known what else to do since he hadn’t received any word from her. “Perhaps I confused the day.”

“What?” asked Rebecca.

“Becky, you are not paying attention. I said I misused the day.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes at him. She hated being called Becky. “How so, Evy?”

Just as he didn’t like to be called Evy. He grinned at her, although he didn’t want to smile, and it felt almost as fake as Susanah’s smiles. “I spent all day fretting.”

“What about?” Rebecca asked.

“The fickleness of a certain woman.”

Rebecca all but snorted. “Is her lack of constancy anything compared to your own?”

He supposed she had a point. He wasn’t known for the duration of his affairs. “My loyalty once bestowed is not a mutable thing.”

“Loyalty or love?” questioned Rebecca.

He swallowed hard. He hadn’t meant love. Why was it women always wanted that word from him? Not that he ever used it outside of family and only rarely with them.

“I am loyal to those I care about.” He was loyal to his cousin, his family members, and friends.

He glanced at Susanah to see if she was following. But she steadfastly ignored him.

She inspired something in him. A desire to protect her as much as to claim her. Only the need to conquer her had become something softer, a desire to have her give herself to him. Or failing that, to see that she was happy in the path she took, even if her path took her away from him.

As the dance ended without an answer from her, he told Rebecca to excuse him a minute as he had to say something to Lord Hull. He grabbed Hull’s arm and positioned him so he was blocking Lady Weatdon’s view of her daughter. Evan moved so his back was toward Lord Weatdon, knowing that would hide Susanah’s face from her father.

“What the devil are you doing?” demanded Hull.

He looked at Susanah’s stricken face, and it sliced at him. Then the expression faded beneath her bland mask. He simply said, “Were you caught?”

Susanah averted her gaze, but her chin gave the briefest of dips.

His stomach clenched. Should he go to her father and acknowledge his part? Did she want him to?

She turned back to him, her eyes hard bitter ice. “Friday night,” she whispered.

Was she angry with him? Admittedly it was his fault if she had been caught, but he was just glad to see the sign of life in her eyes. If she was angry, she wasn’t beaten down too far.

“Wear boots,” he called after them as they walked away.

Hull turned around and gave him a questioning look. He supposed it was an odd command. But Evan hurried to Rebecca’s side and apologized for deserting her so unceremoniously.

“What woman has dared to refuse you?” she asked casually.

“Have you lost your mind? No woman would refuse me.”

“Did the lady you intended to flirt with not join the set?”

He gave her a smile. “Not every plan works out.”

As he said it, his heart momentarily stopped. Had Susanah just given him a time to stop him from pestering her? What if she didn’t have any intention of showing up tomorrow night? It wasn’t as though he could knock on her door and demand to see her at midnight.

* * *

Heat crept across Susanah’s face, and she didn’t know where to look. She couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to an illicit rendezvous while in Almack’s, that bastion of propriety, of all places. In front of Lord Hull. In front of the patronesses, and the cream of society. She hadn’t intended to meet with Evan ever again. What was the point? She risked her reputation being destroyed and being ostracized by the ton.

“My lady, are you all right?” asked Lord Hull.

No doubt her consternation showed on her face. There wasn’t any use in pretending she hadn’t been at the masquerade. Lord Hull had to know it had been her with Evan. “I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”

“I haven’t quite got past wondering what to think about Mr. Cooper, yet.”

What was there to think of him? He was a shameless rakehell, flirting outrageously with his partner, at the same time insisting Susanah meet with him. He’d paid the other woman dozens of compliments and then ordered Susanah to name a night to meet as if she’d jump because he said so. She closed her eyes and fought for composure. She tried to think of a pattern to stitch or exactly what shade Lord Hull’s waistcoat was. Ivory, cream, or a light ecru.

He would think her insane if she asked him to name the exact color. Or he’d just say it was white.

“It isn’t like him to…to…attach himself to a marriageable maiden,” Lord Hull continued as if oblivious to her consternation or perhaps because of it.

“I beg you not to speak of him.” It was no use, she couldn’t think of anything else but Evan. “It is not what you think.”

“What is it that you think I think?” Lord Hull asked.

She realized she was frowning at him. Shaking her head, she measured the thirty feet to her mother’s side. It was too close a distance to risk candid conversation with Lord Hull. But once back at her mother’s side she wouldn’t have to explain at all. “Thank you for the dance, my lord.”

Lord Hull stopped. “I don’t think I can agree to be complicit in the ruination of a young lady.” He paused. “Or any more complicit than I already am.”

“Please,” she whispered. “My mother has the ears of an eagle.” Which wasn’t what she meant to say. “Or rather she has ears like an eagle has eyes.”

“I see,” he said. “Let us take a turn about the room then.”

He turned and began a circuit around the ballroom. The cold angry gazes of Lord Farringate and her mother bit at her back. She resisted the urge to put her hand over her nape as if to protect it.

“We need not…” She bit her lip. Although if her parents thought Lord Hull was interested in her, she might be granted leave to try and fix his attentions. And walking about would give her time to compose herself.

When they were a little space away from everyone, she said. “He isn’t trying to seduce me if that is what you think. Nothing could be further from the truth.” After all, he hadn’t paid her half as many compliments as he did his flirts. She could see that now. If he’d wanted to seduce her, she had made it incredibly easy for him, practically begged him to. But he’d only just kissed her the last time they had been together. “I just asked him to assist me with something. And you said yourself that he is leaving town soon.”

Lord Hull gave her a skeptical glance.

“Could we please change the subject?” she asked.

“Yes, of course.” He cast a glance over his shoulder as if he felt the animosity coming their way. “Do you have an understanding with Lord Farringate?”

“No.” Not yet, she should have added.

Lord Hull’s voice pitched upward. “Does he think you have an understanding?”

“I don’t know what he thinks,” she said shortly. More shortly than she should have. She reminded herself she shouldn’t be rude to a man who knew enough to destroy her.

“He is very dog-in-the-mangerish about you.”

“My parents are encouraging his lordship,” she confessed.

Maybe she should accept Lord Farringate’s offer when it was forthcoming. She would, after all, become a countess, and he had his own castle to which he would remove her. He was not young. Perhaps she would only need to be his wife for a decade or so before she was widowed. Although the thought was beneath her. A lady didn’t marry a man hoping he’d pass. And to fulfill her duty she should have a son, so the marquessate could be restored.

“You’d do better to marry Mr. Cooper.”

She stiffened all over. “Mr. Cooper has not offered, nor would my parents welcome his suit.”

He had only offered to take responsibility for having her out in the middle of the night. If she thought on it, she wasn’t really his type. His lovers were often dark-haired, like the woman he’d been dancing and flirting with tonight.

“And they welcome the addresses of a man whose wives expire like flies?” Lord Hull asked as they rounded the far edge of the ballroom.

“Hardly like flies,” she objected.

“All right. They don’t live as long as dogs then. He marries women and they disappear to his castle never to be seen again.”

Although Lord Hull wouldn’t know it, going away to some castle and never having to see her parents again might be a point in favor of Lord Farringate’s suit.

Lord Hull hadn’t finished though. “He is the only man I know, who’s had a wife fall to her death from a castle battlement. Four wives in thirty odd years is not what I’d consider a healthy situation for said wives.”

“I thought it was three,” she squeaked. Something cold ran through her like a frozen river.

Lord Hull patted her hand that was clutching at his arm like a clawing bird. “Fairly certain it is four.”

She deliberately relaxed her grip. Probably he was wrong. Besides people died. Women had the added risk of childbirth. One never expected it to be oneself, but if there were anything nefarious happening, at the very least, there would be rumors. More likely there would be charges. Doubtless, Lord Farringate had been incredibly unlucky.

They walked in silence for a bit. Her head spun with concerns. Her parents would know. Or perhaps she should demand an explanation.

Just as they were completing the final leg of their circuit, Lord Hull said, “Mr. Cooper’s expectations are not quite as dire as you think they are.”

“W-what?” Mr. Cooper had no expectations that she knew.

“You should ask him about it,” said Lord Hull.

Because obviously, Lord Hull wanted nothing to do with her. She tried to tease him, but even to her own ears her voice sounded desperate instead of teasing, “You couldn’t use ten thousand pounds, yourself, Lord Hull?”

He blinked three times before he tried to stammer out a response.

She smiled as if it didn’t matter. “I am bamming you.” Obviously, her lessons in passion hadn’t taught her to flirt. She would have been better served if she had asked Evan to teach her how to flirt. “I would never suggest that any gentleman marry me for my dowry.”

He gave her a relieved smile. “You’re not half bad, Lady Susanah.”

Oh, to be damned with faint praise. “Thank you so much for the dance and the chat. You have given me much to think on.”

He led her the last few steps to her mother’s side and bowed. “It was my pleasure, my lady.”

* * *

Evan returned home uncertain of whether or not Lady Susanah would show up the evening after next. He picked up the one piece of correspondence his man must have placed on the table in his bare rooms. Most of his clothing resided in the two trunks that sat by the door. His personal items had been removed, packed, or sold. His coach had hit the auction block too. He’d decided to keep his phaeton instead of the coach for Gilbert’s sake. But he couldn’t pick up Lady Susanah in the phaeton tomorrow night. One didn’t drive in an open carriage after dark in London. It would be remarked upon. They could, however, ride horses. That would be unusual, but less so than walking or riding in a phaeton.

He’d told Susanah to wear boots. He’d have to lease a mount for her. Since he couldn’t recall ever seeing her on horseback in all the years in London, he’d find a gentle mare. She’d said she enjoyed riding her pony as a child. Perhaps riding a horse in London was something her mother frowned upon. It was hard to remain wooden on a horse, so that might be why she never rode in the city.

He’d order a generous basket of food, in case she was still on bread and water.

He looked down at the letter in his hand and realized with a pang of guilt that it was from his uncle. He should have left town two weeks ago as he’d originally intended. He could have packed, settled all his outstanding tickets with the tradesmen, the landlord, the stable, and the nearby pubs, as well as sold his unneeded possessions in a week if he’d set his mind to it. Instead, he’d spent more time planning ways to evoke emotion in Lady Susanah, to learn what she hid from everyone, even herself.

What he found was that under her rigorous discipline was a woman who had lashed down passion and joy so tightly she no longer knew what it was to be happy. And that he had an unprecedented desire to cheer her.

Unfolding the sheets, he scanned to make certain no ill had befallen Gilbert or Uncle Phillip. Instead, he found his uncle entirely sympathetic acceptance of his delay. His uncle relayed that Gilbert was hoping that Evan was pursuing a wife.

All of which only served to deepen his guilt.

But his uncle’s next words made him suck in a deep breath.

I do hope you will not delay marriage as long as I did.

What? His uncle expected him to marry?

Evan fell more than sat in the ladder-back chair. Granted, it was fairly obvious that the title would pass to him one distant day, but he hadn’t thought Uncle Phillip wanted him to marry as long as Gilbert was alive.

Then again, his uncle had not married young. Evan knew, as all the family did, that Uncle Phillip had been the second son and hadn’t expected to inherit the barony. He’d been in the horse guards for more than twenty years. A tragic boating accident had wiped out two generations of men in one day and Uncle Phillip had resigned his commission to take up the title. Then he’d married his childhood sweetheart. Their only child had been Gilbert.

His uncle wrote about not having enough time with his wife. They should have married years earlier. Not only would they have had more time together, but the doctors had told him that children like Gilbert often came from older mothers. Although his uncle could marry again, he had no desire to and certainly not to marry some child bride just to get another heir.

Evan skimmed through the ramblings. But certain sentences jumped out at him.

His one regret in life was not having enough time with his Martha.

Evan had only the faintest memories of his aunt from his uncle’s wedding nearly twenty years earlier. After Gilbert’s birth, his aunt and uncle had cloistered themselves at the estate. Over the years, Evan had seen his uncle as he came into town to take his seat in Parliament, but his aunt remained behind in the country. After Aunt Martha died, his uncle stopped attending all but the most important of sessions.

I only hope you choose a woman capable of guarding family secrets.

Evan certainly knew one woman who guarded everything right down to her expression, but did he want her for a wife? Even if he did, she wanted a husband with a title, not a man who would be a steward for years to come.