Page 15 of How to Marry a Marquess (Wedded by Scandal 3)

With a curse, he released her and stepped away, thrusting his fingers through his midnight-black hair. He tipped his head to the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m a dishonorable bounder,” he muttered.

Though her heart was a pounding mess, she smiled. “And what does that make me, since I returned your embrace with such enthusiasm?”

He gave her a chastening look.

“I shall not be sorry. I’ve always wanted my very first proper kiss to be with you,” she admitted shyly. “I’ve gotten weary with the number of kisses that have been stolen by supposedly ardent suitors. This is the first time I gave an embrace willingly, and I enjoyed it.”

The gaze he settled on her was piercing and intent, assessing, stripping the secrets in her heart bare. He strolled over, cupped her cheeks in his hands, and brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip. “You are the one lady I feel safe around. Let’s not ruin our friendship with messy emotions. I treasure you too much.”

A familiar ache welled in her chest. “Safe?”

“Hmmm, I have no worry you will attempt to trap me into marriage.”

She snorted. “Marriage to a man who believes love is for those deluded by sentiments is not a desire of mine. I…I…simply wanted to kiss a man whom I chose.” And to comfort you and to wipe the pain from your eyes. Never had she expected the burst of pleasure that had lit a fire in her blood.

; “Then I am glad I was of service.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “We have not conversed properly for several weeks. I’ve heard rumors of a courtship with Lord Muir.”

“I hardly think my problems warrant a discussion now.”

“They matter to me.”

Her throat closed. “It does not seem the tactics we’ve used over the years work on him. He is quite determined to secure my hand,” she said tremulously. “But I am certain I shall prevail. I informed him of my love of cooking, and instead of scurrying away, I was told in explicit terms it must be stopped at once. What right does he have to order me about? It is always incomprehensible to the opposite sex that we ladies have other interests than embroidery and gossiping.”

“I will pay him a visit.” Richard’s voice throbbed with unnamed emotions. There was something dangerously fascinating about the ruthless charge that emanated from him.

“Be reasonable. I will be ruined if you were to warn a gentleman from courting me. It would be assumed we have a tendre. Unless you have plans to offer for me?” she teased, ignoring the stirring ache in her heart. Her mother was bringing greater pressure on Evie to select a beau, a thing that frustrated her so much she wanted to be unladylike and scream.

“Good God, no.”

Evie grinned. “There is no need to be so aghast.”

A fleeting smile touched his lips. “I am appalled at the notion of marriage.”

“You have sworn your disgust for the state of matrimony so sufficiently that I do not doubt you,” she said softly. Yet there was a place in her heart determined to win him to her way of thinking. That perhaps they were a perfect match with all their idiosyncrasies. The notion had started brewing in her heart when she tumbled into bed exhausted from late-night balls or rides in the park, when her dreams inevitably turned to being held, kissed, and heaven help her, seduced by this charming rogue.

“The norm is to marry for wealth and social connections. If it is not your desire, Evie, defy your parents. I shall expect no less of you.”

“Lord Muir is full of pride and importance, with little thought of anyone but himself and his horses. I assure you I will never marry such a man.”

Was it her imagination or did relief glow in his golden eyes?

“I must take my leave.”

“Be safe,” she whispered.

A rare smile lit his face, and he leaned in and cupped her cheeks between his long, elegant, but so very warm and comforting hands. He brushed his lips against her forehead in farewell, then over her cheek, then lower to where he inexplicably lingered over her lips. “I will call upon you when I’ve located my daughter. If you have need of me before then, send word to my townhouse, and my man will find me.”

A shocked gasp came from the doorway. Evie lurched back and spun around, her hand fluttering to her chest. “Mamma! Upon my word, you gave me a fright.”

The countess’s eyes gleamed with triumph before she lowered her lashes. When she met Richard’s regard, her composure was serene. “My husband and I shall expect you tomorrow before noon, Lord Westfall.”

“Mamma!” Evie hurried to her and pulled her farther into the room, gently closing the door. “Please stop this nonsense. Lord Westfall simply wished me farewell.”

He strolled over, a curious frown on his face as he regarded the countess. Richard was quite aware Mamma had always disapproved of their friendship. Her turnabout now was revealing. In his eyes, Evie spied the knowledge and the contempt.

“Lady Gladstone,” he murmured with a curt bow. “Lady Evie. I bid you both good evening.”