Christine Merrill - Regency Temptation

On your recommendation, and that of my father, along with the continued requests from the duke himself, I have agreed to St Aldric’s offer of marriage. To celebrate the engagement, Father is giving a ball this coming Wednesday. I must remind you, you promised to attend. And despite all that happened after, I hold you to that promise .

Damn the girl. He had promised. And despite what reason demanded, he did not want to go so soon.

If it is truly your wish that I marry, I need your strength to help me carry it through. And if, for any reason, it is not, then you must tell me before that time .

I await your answer …

Et cetera.

For the first time in her life, Evelyn Thorne had done exactly as he’d told her to. It was a trap, of course. She’d finished the letter with a reminder that he might stop the proceedings at any time. He had but to ask and she would cry off.

And in that, she had created the perfect hell for him. It was no less than he deserved, he supposed. He had revealed all to her, or as much as he ever would. Now that she knew he had feelings for her, she sought to inflame them with jealousy. He had given her reason to hope, even as he had pushed her away.

But before that, he had approved her match and promised to attend her wedding. As her older brother, he owed her as much. If he did not want her to think of him, ever again, as anything more than that, he had best learn to play that part.

He went to the table, took up his pen and wrote.

Evie ,

You have nothing to apologise for. It is I who am at fault. As to what happened yesterday, it is best that we never speak of it again. I will forget if you shall .

As to my going to sea again? It is clear that this distresses you. My plans are not set. If it is so important to you, I will forgo the navy and practise on land .

But be damned if he would go to work for St Aldric. That was too much to expect of him.

As to your wedding, I am supremely happy for you, and send my congratulations to his Grace as well. I will remain in London and attend your engagement ball and wedding, just as I said. You have my word. Eagerly awaiting the day that I might call you her Grace, instead of my dear little Evie …

He scribbled a signature at the bottom, then blotted and sealed it before opening his door and calling to the footman, who was still waiting in the hall.

There. It was done and the letter was on its way. It might as well have been written on black-bordered mourning stationery, for all the satisfaction he felt. Even though the situation had been hopeless from the first, he could not help feeling a fresh sadness at losing her, any more than he could keep from wanting her.

But in medicine he had found that it was sometimes necessary to give the patient poison to counteract a more serious malady. Attending her wedding would be so to him. Swallowing this bitter pill would be the first step towards a cure for his affliction.

Evie was beautiful. Sam had known that already, of course. He had never seen her decked in finery. He had thought her lovely in a simple day frock, but tonight she was magnificent. The silk of her ball gown was as blue as her eyes, and as smooth as her hair. A necklace of gold and diamonds lay, like a collar of stars, about her lovely white throat.

Perhaps Thorne had been right all along. Even without the complication of blood, the creature that stood before him could not have been his. The necklace alone was worth a year’s salary. He could never have afforded to put it there. And to her, it was nothing more than her mother’s necklace that she had never been old enough to wear. With St Aldric, she would have this and better. A different jewel for every month of the year and a room full of ball gowns to wear them with.

With the duke at her side, the picture was complete. He was tall, handsome and nearly as golden as she. He smiled at her as though it was an honour for him to have won her. They were like two pieces of statuary, designed to complement each other. As a duchess, she would glitter, as she did tonight, from without and within. She was already so bright that it hurt to look upon her.

Yet he could not seem to stop. Once he had fulfilled his promise to her, he would be gone for good. If memories were all he had for sustenance, he would burn each detail into his brain so that he might never forget. As he waited to be presented to the happy couple, he did his best to mask the hunger he felt for her and arrange his face in an expression of brotherly pride.

‘Sam.’ She reached out and took his hands in hers.

‘Evelyn.’ She leaned in, presenting her cheek to be kissed. He could not very well avoid it without looking silly. He leaned forwards as well, kissing the air a scant inch from her skin. Even then, his lips tingled as if a spark sizzled between them, bridging the gap.

‘It is so good to see you here. I feared you would not come.’ She whispered it in his ear as he leaned close to her. When he leaned back, she searched his face with worried eyes. ‘It has been almost a week.’

Since he had very nearly ravished her in his rooms. He still woke each night from a dream where the ending to that interlude had been different and he had felt her gasping in passion beneath him. ‘I promised I would be here, to celebrate your happiness.’

‘That is most kind of you,’ St Aldric said. He was still at her side, quietly possessive.

‘My felicitations to you as well, your Grace.’ He bowed, feeling stiff and awkward.

‘Thank you, Doctor.’ St Aldric was better at managing a gracious response.

Evie was staring at the pair of them, as though hoping that there could be anything more than cordial dislike between them.

‘And now, if you will excuse me?’ Sam raised a genuine smile at the thought of escaping. ‘I must not keep you from the other guests.’

There. He was through with the first challenge. Now he must manage a few hours of courtesy and then he could be on his way again. But when Evie was involved, nothing was ever that easy. Was it just because she was the hostess that she seemed to be everywhere he turned? Or was she actually following him through the gathering, showing up where he least expected her, to flash a smile or blow a kiss?

Each time, he turned away, pretending that he did not notice, or had not seen, or was too busy in conversation with another to speak to her. At last she caught him standing alone by the dance floor, with no excuse to avoid her.

‘Dance with me.’ She was holding out a hand to him, sure he would come to her, as he always had, and swing her easily in his arms.

‘I do not think that is wise,’ he replied. Just the thought of touching her made his palms begin to sweat.

‘Dancing, not wise?’ She laughed. ‘Is that your professional opinion? I assumed that such harmless exercise would be recommended by a physician.’

‘You know that is not what I mean,’ he said in a harsh whisper, glancing around to be sure that no one else could hear.

She gave him a coquettish flutter of her fan. ‘I really have no idea. If you mean something specific by the refusal, you had best tell me directly.’

‘If you truly mean to marry St Aldric, I think it is unwise for the two of us to dance,’ he said through gritted teeth.

‘My commitment to him has not stopped me from standing up with every other man in this room. Save yourself, of course. You have been avoiding me.’

‘I have not,’ he said, wishing that it was not such an obvious lie.

‘I am sure that St Aldric has no objection to it.’

‘What he wishes does not concern me.’ And now he sounded like a jealous fool.