Twice the Temptation (17 page)

 
“It’s no matter,” Redmond said, offering his arm. “I believe we have a quadrille, Miss Munroe.”

 
“Indeed we do.” With a glance at Connoll, she took the earl’s arm and joined him on the dance floor.

 
Previously Redmond had been an easily outmaneuvered piece of a puzzle. Now, though, as he and Gilly touched hands and swished about the floor, Connoll wanted to flatten him. It wasn’t just that the fool was touchinghis Gilly—though that certainly played a part in it. Rather, it was the knowledge that he’d done his best to sway her, to convince her that a union between two participants was so much more interesting than one between a ruler and a servant, and yet he still didn’t know who she would choose.

 
“Are you genuinely in pursuit of my daughter’s hand?” Lady Munroe asked abruptly, shaking him from his thoughts.

 
He’d forgotten she stood there. “Yes, I am,” he answered.

 
“You won’t succeed; you’re not the sort of man she wants in her life.”

 
“Not the sort of manshe wants, or not the sort of manyou want?” Connoll returned, gazing directly at her. “Because if she would but open her eyes, I think she would find that there is more variety to her taste than she might previously have believed.”

 
“You think you know everything; you think you know Gilly. But you do not.” With that, the viscountess glided away, her nose in the air.

 
Connoll very much hoped that Lady Munroe was wrong. Because though he’d never been one to believe in deep and lasting love, the past week had served to change his perspective. He wanted Evangeline Munroe
in his life. But that could only happen if she changed her own perspective.

 
More time would have been nice, so that he might at least have had the opportunity to remove his shirt and boots. Not just for his sake, though; he’d never met a woman with so much passion in her bones and yet so dedicated to following a path leading to an emotionless future.

 
He gazed across the dance floor at her. Had tonight been the beginning for her? Or would she see it as a once-only excursion to a place she never intended to visit again? His fingers curled into fists. If this had been a matter for someone to smash down walls and throttle villains, he would have been more than willing. It was harder to wait and see what she would do. But however much he wanted to go about swinging his sword, the decision was up to her.

 
“You wouldn’t happen to have another one of those cigars, would you?”

 
Taking a breath, Connoll turned away from the crowded dance floor. “I would,” he said, pulling one from his jacket pocket and handing it to Lord Munroe.

 
“My thanks.”

 
“May I ask you a question?” Connoll continued, as the viscount tucked the cigar into his own jacket.

 
“Certainly.”

 
“Lady Munroe seems to have a certain negative opinion of our sex.”

 
“Oh, I’m aware of that. Believe you me.”

 
“I do. But my question is, why?”

 
“Ah. Walk with me, will you?”

 
Reluctant as he was to let Gilly out of his sight, Connoll nodded and headed for a second time out to the terrace.Steady , he reminded himself.Patience . It wasn’t
as if she would accept a proposal from Redmond in the middle of a quadrille, whatever decision she ultimately made.

 
“Heloise’s father,” Lord Munroe began, pulling out the cigar and lighting it on a torch, “was a baron. He was also a drunk and a gambler and a brute who very nearly lost the family fortune on several occasions. She rarely speaks of him, but when she does…well, her contempt is obvious.”

 
“Her contempt doesn’t seem to be limited to her parent,” Connoll noted, walking to the doorway to glance at the well-lighted room inside.

 
“When we met, I made it my primary task to prove to her that not every man was like her father.” The viscount grimaced. “It’s taken a bit longer than I anticipated, I’m afraid.”

 
Hm. It seemed more as though the viscount had only reinforced her beliefs. By doing only as she asked, by being little more than her manservant, he’d proven that a life with her in control was better than one where she shared or relinquished power. And she’d passed that mind-set on to her daughter.

 
Munroe was looking at him as though he expected a response, so Connoll nodded. “You’re a very patient man,” he commented.

 
“Too patient, I sometimes think, but I’m a bit outnumbered now.”

 
“I’ve been trying to convince your daughter that a balanced partnership might be more rewarding.” He couldn’t be any more explicit without risking making an enemy. And he could use an ally, ineffective or not.

 
“Considering that we’re both dressed to complement the ladies of my household, Rawley, I’m not convinced of your success.”

 
“You’re not convinced ofmy —”

 
“And your particular lady is dancing with Earl Redmond, who means to propose to her tomorrow.”

 
Connoll looked back at the doorway.Tomorrow . “That doesn’t give me a hell of a lot of time,” he said aloud.

 
“You’ve arrived late to the race.”

 
“I had business elsewhere.” He couldn’t regret acquiring the paintings in Paris, especially when his absence had given Daisy the opportunity to make Ivey’s acquaintance. Hm. So now he was grateful that his mistress had found someone else. What a difference a week and a carriage accident, not to mention a cursed diamond, could make.

 
“Do you have a plan?” the viscount pursued.

 
“You could deny Redmond your blessing,” Connoll returned. “That might give me some time to convince her to see things my way.”

 
“Heloise has already given her blessing. Mine doesn’t count.”

 
“Maybe it should,” Connoll snapped, drawing a sharp breath.

 
“Excuse me, lad, but that’s a raceI’ve been running. And I’ll thank you to refrain from commenting about it.”

 
Swearing under his breath, Connoll paced to the terrace steps and back. “Apologies. It’s just that…it’s one thing to lose when the battle’s been fought fairly and the ground is level. This, I don’t understand. What in God’s name would make Gilly want to spend the remainder of her life—well, his life—with the Earl of Redmond? Or Dapney, for that matter?”

 
“I think I’ve explained—”

 
“No, I understand Lady Munroe’s prejudice. What I don’t comprehend is why Evangeline is so content to
look through her mother’s eyes.” Even as he said it, though, of course he understood—her mother’s had been the only voice influencing her. For her entire life all she’d heard was the worthlessness of men and the only conditions under which they should be tolerated. And whatever changes her father had been trying to bring about were so subtle as to be nonexistent.

 
With Redmond planning a proposal for tomorrow, he was running out of time. If their interlude in the storage room had done nothing to sway her, he’d probably already lost. All he had remaining tonight was one waltz. It had best be one hell of a dance.

 
Evangeline looked toward the terrace door through which her father and Connoll had vanished. If he meant to confess their sins in order to force a marriage, he was speaking with the wrong parent. And if he attempted any such thing, she would never forgive him.

 
“…spending a great deal of time with you lately,” the earl was saying as he took her hand. They turned and separated and then joined again. “The fellow spends far too much time in France, for my taste.”

 
He was also approximately twenty-three years younger than the earl. “I enjoy traveling,” she said, mostly to see how Redmond would respond to that.

 
“A married lady may travel as much as she likes,” he returned with the predictability of a clock. “And there are other benefits, as well.”

 
“Such as?”

 
“More of those delicious kisses,” the earl breathed as they passed one another. “You fill me with desire, Miss Munroe.”

 
Previous to Connoll she’d heard enough talk among the servants to have a fair idea of what intimacy entailed.
Experiencing it, and even more, feeling it, was another matter entirely. And now the thought of doing either with Lord Redmond made her shudder. The idea of him on top of her, inside her…

 
Once they’d consummated the marriage, though, she could make fairly certain he would never touch her again. And then she could travel, she could attend dances, she could entertain friends, or read, or anything else a married woman wished to do, and Redmond would be nothing more than the man who shared the house with her and held her shawl.

 
No need or desire for conversations or kisses or long, warm nights in bed—they wouldn’t even share a bedchamber. Evangeline shook herself. If she had it all settled in her mind, then why was she imagining all of those things, and with Connoll? Yes, he’d taken her virginity less than half an hour ago, and yes, the way she’d felt, the way he’d made her feel, surprised and pleased her down to her bones. But had it really changed anything?

 
His goal, most likely, had been to let her know that he was a proficient lover. She’d already experienced his skills at kissing. But it was more than that, and while half of her was angry with him for presuming that he could change the way she viewed her entire life because of twenty naked minutes, the other half wanted an additional twenty minutes, and twenty more after that.

 
She supposed if she married Redmond she could take lovers, but that seemed rather contrary to her stated purpose to have as little to do with men as possible. Choosing the least demanding, most easily swayed of men meant freedom. But now because of stupid Connoll she had to ask herself, freedom to do what?

 
Across the room her mother watched them dance the quadrille. The viscountess didn’t have affairs, and, from
what Evangeline had been able to decipher as she’d grown older, gave her husband what she termed his “birthday present” no more than once or twice a year.

 
“And now that blackguard’s with your father,” Lord Redmond huffed abruptly, his gaze on the terrace door. “I have the primary claim. I hope he realizes that.”

 
Evangeline turned her head. Connoll and her father strolled back in from the terrace, her father wearing the guilty expression that said he’d been smoking cigars again. Connoll, though, didn’t appear to be feeling guilt about anything. Rather, his deep blue eyes searched the dancers until he found her. And then he smiled.

 
Warmth spread from her insides out to her fingers, lust tugging at her like a summer breeze. Heavens. This wanton was not who she was.

 
But it could be. Easily. And every time Connoll Addison looked at her, she wanted it more. The dance ended, and she headed them in her father’s direction rather than her mother’s.

 
“Lord Redmond,” she said, “I will marry whom I wish. My parents will not make that decision for me.”

 
“Of course, my sweet. Of course. I know that. It’s just that I don’t like the idea of a pretty-faced pup poaching my territory.”

 
He’d done more than poach; he’d caught the prize game. Evangeline stifled an unexpected grin. “A pretty face to gaze at is well and good,” she said loudly enough for Connoll to hear, “but I prefer adoration.”